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#gray Jedi
incorrect-kotor-quotes · 10 months
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captainsophiestark · 5 months
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Gray Jedi
Anakin Skywalker x Reader
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Written for Fictober 2023!
Fandom: Star Wars
Day 23 Prompt: "No, you won't understand, ever."
Summary: Y/N left the Jedi Order over differences with their teachings and a love for Anakin Skywalker. Now, however, something is wrong with Anakin, and they might be the only one who can stop tradgedy from happening.
Word Count: 2,094
Category: Angst, Fluff
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I'd spent the majority of my life as a Jedi, so I'd heard plenty of Masters utter the phrase "I feel a disturbance in the Force" or some variation of it over the years. I'd even felt a few myself, once or twice. But nothing had ever felt like the looming cloud of dread that hung over me now.
I hadn't been a Jedi for more than a year now, which made the feeling all the stranger. I'd left over a few differences with the Council and their rules, opting to become a Gray Jedi by technicality and a non-Force-user by practice. So the feeling of dark premonition battering me awake from my peaceful sleep was even stranger.
Even having let my connection with the Force fade a bit, I knew enough to not ignore this sign. Especially because the face of my former best friend, Anakin Skywalker, featured in every single flash this vision was giving me.
Anakin had been one of the reasons I'd decided to leave in the first place. Somehow, when I wasn't paying attention, I'd fallen in love with my best friend. And that kind of love was forbidden among the Jedi.
I'd put up with it for a while, for most of the Clone Wars. But finally, when it started to feel like Anakin might have returned my affections, it got to be too much for me. I couldn't have something with him and still be a Jedi. So I'd left.
Anakin had stayed, and I didn't blame him for it one bit. The Jedi were the only family he'd known since his mother, and the only family he had left since her death. I, probably stupidly, had never talked to him about my feelings. What reason would he have had to leave?
I'd been living a new, peaceful life as far away from the war and the Sith and the Jedi as I could get, and it had been going fairly well, all things considered. But now, something was clearly wrong.
I hadn't survived as long as I did in the war by completely ignoring my instincts. So, I grabbed my lightsaber and took off for the Temple, since that would be the best place to talk about my vision and to start finding Anakin.
When I got to the Temple, however, I found it almost deserted. Something was clearly, deeply wrong.
As I stood in the entryway of the place I'd once called home, I felt a harsh shove in the Force, like someone had physically put their hands on me and pushed. I stumbled, taking a few steps in the direction to keep from falling, then decided to keep going. I rested one hand on the hilt of my lightsaber, ready to draw at a moment's notice as I raced through the halls.
To my surprise, the shoving brought me right to one of the most relaxing, comfortable spaces in the Temple. Even more surprising, I found this one full of what must've been every youngling in the Order.
They looked at me questioningly, and I looked back the same way. That violent shoving in the Force had stopped, so what exactly did it want from me? Why had it dragged me here years after I'd left all this behind?
A moment later, I got my answer. The gaze of the younglings shifted from me to a point behind me, and chills went down my spine. I heard a familiar voice say my name, but nothing about his presence in the Force felt familiar.
Slowly, I turned, leaving one had on my saber. With the younglings behind me, I came face to face with Anakin Skywalker, the only man I'd ever loved. And he looked terrible.
His shoulders were hunched, and he held his lightsaber in his hand like he was ready for combat. His hair was a mess, and through the Force, I could almost see a literal cluster of darkness surrounding him. But worst of all, his eyes were yellow. Glowing Sith yellow.
"Anakin..." I breathed, keeping my tone carefully calm like I was talking to a scared animal. "What are you doing?"
"The Jedi have to be destroyed, Y/N. They are corrupt, and working for the downfall of the Republic."
"Anakin, what-"
"They've been keeping things from me my entire life. They're plotting against the Senate. This is the only way to ensure peace."
"Anakin... I understand that you're feeling hurt and angry-"
"No, you won't understand, ever! This is the only way!"
Anakin ignited his lightsaber, pure emotion and anger lacing his tone as he seemed to grow to the point of towering over me and the younglings. I should 've been terrified. Instead, I was feeling some anger of my own.
"You think I don't understand what you're feeling?" I demanded, raising my voice to match Anakin's tone. "You think I don't understand the anger, the betrayal that comes from realizing the Jedi aren't always right? That the thing you grew up with, your family, is enforcing a code that is actively hurting you? Do I need to remind you, Anakin, that I left the Order? A year ago?"
"It's not the same."
"No, it's not. Unlike you, I managed to develop somewhat healthy coping mechanisms and didn't listen to the Chancellor hissing in my ear, the snake."
"You're like the Jedi! You hate him! He's the only one who's been honest with me, who's helped me."
I sighed heavily and rested one hand on my hip. I could still feel the storm of emotions swirling around Anakin, but now I was determined to diffuse it.
"I don't hate the Chancellor Anakin, I just think he's a slimy politician. Ergo, not to be trusted. And usually not the honest type."
Anakin spluttered like he didn't know what to say, so I continued.
"Anakin, listen, I understand feeling angry and fed up with the Jedi. It's why I left! And I really don't mean this as an insult, but since you came to the Temple so late, they were especially terrible at accommodating you and helping you find healthy ways to deal with your emotions. But the Sith are absolutely not the answer either. Their path is an endless cycle of pain, anger, and hurt. You lash out, like you're doing now, in an attempt to stop the hurt. Then you feel more hate, for yourself and for the world rejecting you, as a result of what you did to try to stop the hurt in the first place. And other Sith, whoever it is that dragged you down this path, will manipulate, exploit, and abuse you through that pain to get you to do their bidding. I... I really don't want to see that happen to you, Anakin."
He took a long, long moment to respond, his eyes staring into the distance past me rather than focusing on any one thing. I just waited, trying to project all the warmth and love I'd ever felt for this man to him through the Force. Finally, he turned back to me.
"You don't know who the Sith is?"
"No. I stopped caring, to be totally honest with you, the day I left. I wanted to leave this life and everything that came with it behind."
"So why did you come back?"
I sighed, long and heavy. This was not a conversation I particularly wanted to have, especially not with a bunch of younglings listening in behind me, but it was that or let Anakin fall. The second option wasn't really an option, so that left me with the first.
"I got bodied awake by the Force in the middle of the night after spending a year ignoring it with a premonition that something bad was going to happen, and that I needed to come back here."
"And why did you listen?"
"Well... because you were in the vision, Anakin. I didn't get details, but I did get an overwhelming bad feeling, and I knew you were involved. So... I came back for you."
He narrowed his eyes at me, and I squirmed a little under the intensity of his gaze. There were so many bigger, more important things happening right now than my feelings for Anakin coming to light, but somehow that thought dominated my mind.
"You came back... for me?"
"Yeah, Ani. I mean... ugh, I can't believe I left the Order and now I'm still having to admit this, in the Temple no less." I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, completely removing my hand from the hilt of my lightsaber. I had no desire to fight my way out of this one against Anakin. Then, I used every last ounce of willpower in my body to look the man I loved straight in the eye. "I love you, Anakin. I've loved you for a long, long time. A while ago, I thought maybe you might've felt the same way, but... that doesn't matter. The Jedi Code forbids that kind of love, that kind of loyalty and reliance on another person. But you, and the love for you filling my heart, have always made me happier and stronger than I was without it. I spent a long time trying to square that with the Jedi ideals, and I couldn't. So, for that and other reasons, I left.
"But Ani, for the record, it didn't and doesn't fit with the Sith teachings, either. The Sith have no room for love. Obsession, maybe, but not love. They thrive on hate and anger, and there's no lasting room for those emotions in a loving relationship. Or in a happy existence, for that matter."
"You... love me?"
"Very very much." I gave him the smallest smile, letting as much hope as I could muster shine through. Anakin blinked back at me, his grip on his lightsaber relaxing, and I thought I noticed that cloud of darkness shrinking quite a bit.
I took a deep breath, then held out my hand to Anakin. I'd already come this far, so why not.
"Anakin... come with me. Let's both get the hell out of here, leave the Sith and the Jedi behind. Let them fight their war with their Codes and their restrictions, their lack of love and their hate and their anger, and go make our own, happy lives together somewhere else. I can't pretend to have all the answers, but I've at least had some practice developing healthier strategies for dealing with big feelings than the Jedi ever gave me. Let's go figure out more together."
For a few long, heart-stopping moments, I thought Anakin would refuse. He'd raise his saber, let the darkness win, and end everything right here and now. Then, slowly, he retracted the blade on his lightsaber. The darkness had all but gone now, and the yellow had faded slightly from his eyes. Finally, he nodded and reached for me.
"I love you too. I have for a long time. After you left, I thought I'd never see you again."
I smiled, trying to keep the sadness out of my expression as much as possible as Anakin finally took my hand. Our eyes stayed locked on each other, and I pulled him closer to me.
"Well, it's a good thing I came back then, isn't it?"
Anakin nodded, slowly at first and then much faster as he pulled me the rest of the way to him, wrapping me tight in his arms. I hugged him right back, a warm glow surrounding me and spreading through every part of my body. Who or whatever had shoved me here with the Force seemed to let out a sigh.
"C'mon, Anakin," I said, pulling back gently, just enough to smile at him. "Let's get out of here."
He nodded, a small smile finally working its way onto his own face, and I led him away from the younglings without looking back. I hated to think what might've happened if I hadn't been here, but it didn't matter. It hadn't happened, and now Anakin and I were finally getting a shot at some kind of happy ending.
A disturbance still echoed through the Force as we left the Temple and returned to my ship, but it wasn't the one that had sent me running here. Something strange and terrifying was happening in the galaxy, but now, it was happening without Anakin. Hopefully that would make a difference, and even if it didn't, at least I'd have him by my side for the rest of whatever was to come.
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Everything Taglist: @rosecentury
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sirikenobi12 · 8 months
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Gray Jedi code in a nutshell.
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antianakin · 10 months
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Since people like throwing out "Gray Jedi" as some kind-of gotcha with a made-up definition to lift up their faves as better than all of the other Jedi, I think it's within the rules to make up my own definition of Gray Jedi to reduce my least faves as worse than all of the other Jedi.
"Gray Jedi" now means a person who is technically still a member of the Jedi Order, but is choosing not to follow their teachings or practices out of arrogance whenever it suits their selfish agendas. In other words, a Jedi in name only, but not in character or behavior.
So. Anakin. Anakin is a Gray Jedi. Say hello to Gray Jedi Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi Order's worst Jedi in history!
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yourneighborhoodporg · 5 months
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The Guardian
Series Masterlist
Rating: T
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
Summary: When Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka crash land on the desolate, ice planet Hoth, they meet a stranger with great power and deep connections to their past. You join the trio, hoping to face your destiny, which has long been foretold. But when the Separatists and Sith threaten you and your newfound family, you’re forced to make sacrifices to defend your friends, fulfill the prophecy, and protect the man you’ve grown to love.
✨Playlist✨
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Part I: Rescue of the Fates
The Hoth Arc
Chapter 1: The Accident
Chapter 2: The Revelation
Chapter 3: The Escape
The Arrival Arc
Chapter 4: Arrival— Part 1 & Part 2
Chapter 5: Identity
Chapter 6: Patience
Chapter 7: Master
The Dark Waters Arc
Chapter 8: Blackened Water— Part 1 & Part 2
Chapter 9: Ancient Instruments
Chapter 10: Troubled Water
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thecleverqueer · 9 months
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I think it’s worth mentioning that Ahsoka Tano is NOT a gray Jedi. She wears gray. That’s the extent of her “grayness”. At no point has she ever embraced any form of darkness willingly, and she harbors the life energy of a light side force god within her. She’s not going to be the one to make “gray Jedi” canon, an ideology that makes no sense and goes directly against what we know about balance of the force in canon.
Ahsoka is an ex-Jedi. She doesn’t consider herself to be a Jedi, but it will not shock me when her show is about her reconnecting with that part of herself. Her journey seems to be pointing in that direction anyway.
Ahsoka has never forsaken the Jedi code, just the order itself. She is spiritual, not religious if you will. She’s always followed the code of the Jedi. She left because she felt betrayed by the order. She was forced to step back for a minute where she realized that they were the ones that were not living up to their own code because they’d been blinded by the darkness of the times.
I believe that if Order 66 had never occurred, Ahsoka would have already been back in the order and I say this because of the conversation that she has with Yoda after the siege of Mandalore:
Ahsoka: I did my duty as a citizen.
Yoda: Not as a Jedi?
Ahsoka: No. Not yet.
“No. Not yet.”
I digress.
Ahsoka’s moral compass is firmly placed in the light side of the force. She is more Jedi-like than some of the actual Jedi. There’s literally nothing “gray” about her outside of her poncho.
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autistic-puffin · 6 months
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AHSOKA SPOILERS AHEAD
(also, long post apparently)
i'm actually kind of obsessed with this latest tidbit from baylan. the fact that he decided to reframe the fall of the jedi both as something inevitable, a repeated pattern throughout history, and that they had coming due to their own weakness, instead of what it is (genocide).
we've all seen how different jedi responded, how some became inquisitors or otherwise turned to the dark side, how some turned their backs on the force entirely (like kanan tried to), how some stayed completely hidden and separate (yoda), how some ended up training new jedi (like kanan also did)
it's really interesting to me that baylan is aware of the other "wild" jedi (bokken jedi, apparently), and considers himself different and separate from them, but shin still associates herself with the bokken jedi. when they first appeared, given their red lightsabers, i figured they had to be more sith-aligned, though probably not outright sith. if they're gray enough for shin to still consider herself as jedi-trained before baylan corrects her, then that's super interesting to me also.
the other day i rewatched the first two episodes of rebels. the very first episode opens with darth vader telling the grand inquisitor to hunt down the force sensitive children - and any surviving jedi that could train them. i am beyond obsessed with the apparent inevitability that jedi will train new jedi, but moreso also with the different ways we see this play out.
there's kanan, who retains his jedi identity (obviously there were some bumps along the road with that) and has a proper padawan he trains/raises to be a jedi.
there's ahsoka "i am no jedi" tano, the "part-timer", who does also apparently take on a (basically not force sensitive) padawan and abandons her. we also see her refuse to train grogu.
and now there's baylan skoll, who trains a padawan to be "more" than a jedi, who seems (at least sometimes) reluctant to kill other jedi, who has semi-fond memories of the temple, whose padawan seems actually uncertain about their status as jedi or not.
both ahsoka and baylan definitely exist in the gray between jedi and sith, with ahsoka basically still being a jedi and baylan being much more dark side-adjacent.
it's just so fascinating to me that we've seen multiple jedi/former-jedi/jedi-adjacent people that are so bitter and disillusioned with the jedi order, so critical of their failures and shortcomings, that they seem to ignore the reality of what happened. they were massacred. their home and the center of their culture was burned, their children were murdered, they were shot down by their own troops in the field, they were chased and hunted down and killed. regardless of the very real flaws of the jedi order, they didn't deserve that. no one does.
i think baylan's reframing makes a lot of sense as a classic trauma response. "this bad thing that happened was actually for a reason beyond palpatine's agenda, the jedi were too weak." because if there were real reasons, then it's preventable. he also, though, views it as a continuing pattern in history. the key thing here is that he thinks (apparently) it's a pattern that he can stop. he seems to both think it was the fault of the jedi for their weakness but also an inevitable pattern of history. he addresses both by raising his apprentice to be "more" than a jedi and by this mysterious plan to stop the cycle of history from repeating itself.
this is the longest post i've written about star wars in a minute and i'm not entirely sure my thoughts have made sense (definitely doubtful they'll be read). i also haven't looked at what people have been saying for this week's episode, so it'll be hilarious if someone else has already spoken on this. it's turning around in circles in my brain. i just think the post-order 66 jedi are really really interesting and i think about them a lot
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mademoiselle-cookie · 7 months
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gammacousin · 6 months
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The portrayal of Baylan Skoll will NEVER be matched.
Thank you, Ray.
May the force be with you. 💔
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incorrectpizza · 2 months
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Forget "gray Jedi" I want to explore Nightsister morality. A culture steeped in dark side magick but which seemingly has many members that shy away from pure evil.
Ventress, who's a Sith apprentice tossed aside, clinging to the dark yet occasionally drifting closer to the Light, using a yellow lightsaber, devoting herself to the Force while still using her hatred and pain? Merrin, who retains her Nightsister culture, resurrects the dead, and yet pries her Jedi lover from the very brink of the Dark she draws from?
I'd take exploration of this type over "gray Jedi" any day of the week.
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inquisitor-apologist · 11 months
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The thing about the Gray Jedi that doesn’t work is that you can’t be 50/50, that’s not how the Force works.
The Force is an incredibly simple magic system, honestly. Good people (Jedi) gain Good People Powers through working on themselves and helping people, and bad people (Sith) gain Bad People Powers by making themselves miserable and hurting everyone around them.
You cannot be a good person and have Bad People Powers like Force Lightning or whatever because those powers literally come from causing and exploiting people’s suffering. The Gray Jedi just don’t work because the Force is a dichotomy. There is the the Dark Side and the Light Side. You cannot be both, and if you could, well, being 50% evil is not a good thing, actually.
At best, you get something like the Bendu from Rebels where he’s just like, the worst kind of bystander. He has a ton of power and strength and he refuses to use it for anything, he lets everyone else be miserable, he lets the world get worse because he refuses to pick a side in a world that demands he have one. And at worst, you get Anakin Skywalker in RotS who is flip-flopping between light and dark, killing an unarmed prisoner one moment and risking his life and the Chancellor’s to save Obi-Wan the next. You get someone desperately unstable and uncontrollable who lashes out randomly and extremely destructively, pulling himself deeper into the Dark because he refused to choose a damn side.
Being 50% evil is either a step towards being 100% evil or it’s just… nothing. Utter passivity, refusal to do anything because it disrupts the ‘balance’ that never actually existed because good and evil are not equal. There’s no real nuance there, it’s a simple magic system, but that’s because it was made for kids! Look it up, GL has said all this before.
Anyway, yeah, being half evil kind of inherently precludes you from being a good person.
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rum-and-honey · 2 months
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The universe is a strange place. Stardust falls at random, and humans fall in love.
-K.Towne Jr
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neon-junkie · 11 months
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happy may the 4th!!
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mostthingskenobi · 3 months
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youtube
Whether it's controversial or not, we really enjoyed talking about the gray Jedi concept.
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antianakin · 10 months
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Grey Jedi Cal?
No.
Grey Jedi BODE.
Because a Grey Jedi as per real Star Wars/George Lucas worldbuilding would be a Jedi who is starting to commit selfish, heinous acts and building attachments but hasn't completely fallen.
Bode Akuna was a Grey Jedi for years before he fell.
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yourneighborhoodporg · 3 months
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The Guardian
Chapter 8: Blackened Water (Part 2)
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, banter, migraines, a tiny reference to drugs, self-sacrifice ish, skechy neighborhoods, brief stalker (?), very concerned Obi :(
Summary: After this morning's incident in the Starfighter, you go on an afternoon run to clear your mind. Of course, your track of choice is the seedy underground neighborhoods of the outer Senate District— a decision that will prove to be full of twists and turns.
Song Inspo: Black Water — Of Monsters and Men
Words: 7.5k
A/n: All I’m gonna say is, hella foreshadowing and hella symbolism. I’ll let you decide what that means 🫡
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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The thought was this: that all my life had been murk and depths, but I was not a part of that dark water. I was a creature within it — Madeline Miller
Your loosely booted foot smacked against the damp pavement, splashing apart shallow puddles that collected in the occasional crevice with each sprinting step as you made your way deeper into the alleys of the Senate District. The flickering, golden glows of periodic street lamps illuminated the path ahead, just enough to avoid tripping over scattered waste piles that dotted street corners. It forced your eyes to remain alert as you maneuvered around them and below the thick, interwoven cable squiring across miles-long under-street ceilings like an infinite den of snakes.
You glimpsed at your chilly sleeves without a hitch in your bounding steps. The slate-gray of your robe had soaked into a deep, inky black from the afternoon’s drumming rain. One that had already enveloped the region by the time you first launched this trek into the neighborhood’s bowels at hour’s dawn.
But dampened earth wasn’t your reason for keeping to empty passageways and abandoned tunnels. Coated in shadowed light as distant clatters atop metal rooftops trickled down into groans that bellowed from the surrounding walls.
No.
You were clinging to shadowy covers because, once again, you’d chosen to embrace that long-held, Hoth tradition of keeping a low profile.
And, having spent your entire existence hiding from the world, it’d proven to be a bit of a hard habit to break.
It haunted you as you flashed down each narrow passageway, eyes shifting like chosen prey vigilantly watching for their predator— an action that reflected your utmost desire to keep your Jedi identity concealed. Yet you continued to engage the Force, fueling nearly supernatural sprints down new corridors and twisting avenues. Movements that would usually garner unwelcome attention in any other zone.
But not here.
Not in the underground neighborhoods of the Senate District.
It was where you’d discovered the only way to engage the Force without revealing yourself in public. Through the obscurity of its gloomy locales that credibly camouflaged you from searching eyes.
But besides your decade-long custom of concealment, you knew that these days, it was still vital to remain cautious.
More than ever.
Ever since your arrival, you’d been engaging with more diverse characters every day. Most of whom were uninformed about your real purpose as a Jedi. The Council believed it would be safest to conceal your real identity, name and all. And even though that was quite the adjustment from the fanfare you were expecting, you still felt inclined to agree with them. At least at the Temple, individuals who’d become all the more threatening by learning your secret were weeded out before they could even reach the front door.
But not here.
Not down seedy boulevards or dimly lit backstreets that characterized the forlorn neighborhoods of the outer District, slinking with suspect figures whose watchful gazes peaked out of hooded wear.
Sometimes they’d observe you pass, bodies still with eerily calm attentiveness as they watched on. Others would wriggle far back into the cover of darkened crannies, their jittery silhouettes talking lowly with other, unseen beings of the shadows during their retreat.
Still, in spite of the uncertainty that surrounded this quarter, you took the risk.
It was necessary, you convinced yourself. Mindless movement seemed to work as some sort of binary treatment for your persistently taxing migraine. That was why, following this morning’s planet-side return, your first order of business was to be right here.
In this moment.
In a No Man’s Land of deserted corridors and limited natural light.
Despite the downpour which greeted you on an otherwise tepid day, that instant the Starfighter touched down at the Temple hangar, you knew exactly where you wanted to be.
By yourself. On the street. And running.
You thought back again to those fleeting seconds following your return from Anakin’s piloting lesson. How you were so quick to open the cockpit’s hatch with a click, the engines just barely starting to cool as you agilely hopped out, toes gracing the stone below while you made a beeline for the inner Temple.
All to facilitate your confident escape.
Yet despite your resoluteness in slipping away, you still felt a chilly twinge of remorse dip your stomach. Especially when the distant, resounding tick and whir of the fighter’s opening canopies subtly announced your flight companions’ perfect view of your departing form.
Of your decision to leave them behind without even a goodbye.
Guilt encircled your ears like curiously buzzing blood flies, forcing you to at some point realize that engaging in some mad dash of endorphins wasn’t your only motivation for this morning’s speedy retreat.
You did it because, if you knew anything, you knew Anakin.
Yes, you’d only met him a little over two weeks ago. But Maker were you beginning to grasp his mind as well as your own.
Recently, the two of you had been spending a lot of time together.
Or at least, many hours more than your Hoth upbringing supplied.
Intense sparring sessions, the occasional evening supper that would devolve into its more charming discourses when Obi-Wan joined halfway through. Not to mention those rare, yet revealing conversations with Anakin about his past. The most earnest of which transpiring that night above the garbage pit, when he revealed to you his mother’s passing, and let slip his pervading turmoil on the matter.
And in the end, it didn’t take long for you to recognize that the summation of all those wholehearted interactions, those sundry dialogues amidst quality time, was a sharper ear for his thought process.
For how his heart beat for others.
This morning in the Starfighter, you knew the instant Anakin heard your painful exhale that the cogs of his feeling mind began to whirl. Further propelled to miraculous speeds when you tersely instructed him to bring the ship back in seconds later.
Then, during the reentry, you knew how he was, in all likelihood, anticipating to relay those four, troubled words the moment you two stood face-to-face.
What happened up there?
Of course, throughout that entire, sedated descent, you knew he was thinking about what to say next. Particularly, which words to use if you tried blowing him off again with another two, dry syllables. A phrase that’d drifted from your lips as popularly as each breath during this past week and a half.
I’m fine.
All of this pervading his mind right up until your door unlatched behind him, shocking him out of his stupor, you imagined. Coaxing him to leap out of the cockpit just as swiftly as he heard you do from behind.
But you didn’t give him the chance.
You refused to even glance back to check. To see if he was about to chase after you.
You couldn’t.
You just flicked on your robe’s hood, tugging its gradually dampening form tightly around yourself as your footsteps abandoned the landing platform.
You didn’t even hear what he said next. That is, if he’d said anything at all when you entered the hangar bay. But whether that was due to the clamoring headache that’d momentarily incapacitated you or your pervading questions surrounding this affliction running wild, you didn’t know.
You just blocked it all out.
Deafened your ears to any immediate surroundings, like scattered hangar workers and hammering repairs, as you hastened your evasion of the ditched trio.
But, no matter the shame that tugged at your chest afterward, you were still confident in the reasoning behind your withdrawal.
As of now, you were still trying to investigate the cause of this harassment. And you recognized that until you found some answers, involving Anakin or anyone close to him would put The Chosen One in a land of uncertainty that you weren’t quite comfortable with.
And that just wouldn’t do.
Your striking heels continued to clobber the decaying trails of the outer District’s underground streets, bringing the chatter of leather on wet concrete into a strange harmony with the increasingly beating rain that danced upon the streets above. Centering yourself in another Force-amplified hurdle, you again reminded yourself of the important fact that influenced your decision to keep this secret. The conclusion that you knew would reduce any chance of complications to your duty.
It’s not his job to worry about you.
However, it was technically the responsibility of your ‘new Master.’
Maybe that’s why, at the end of last week— following four, stretched-out days of irregular headaches— you found justification in approaching Master Windu for counsel. Because no matter your efforts to quell this silent beast, through extended rest or quiet meditation, its burning onslaughts ferociously prevailed.
In other words, at some point, it became utterly clear that you required a much wiser opinion.
In many ways, you were confident in the stoic Jedi. And by that, you meant that you trusted him to keep the matter private. Even from those who associated with The Chosen One, and especially from Anakin himself. In fact, at the outset of your conversation, he assured you that he’d only divulge a discussion between Master Advisor and Jedi if it concerned the Council.
And you had no reason to believe it did.
You thought back to that chat while pivoting down another slick alleyway. This one grew narrower than the last, its spotted lamps decaying in luster and prevalence as you dug cavernously into the belly of the beast-like web of tunnels while your mind wandered.
Master Windu had already separately arranged to meet with you once every week. At least until the Jedi were called back to the battlefield, he was sure to clarify. It was time to be spent preparing you for what was to come in this mystifying conflict. To guarantee that its distractions wouldn’t impact the primary reason for your presence.
For your existence, really.
However, of the two sessions you’d already had, the powerful Jedi spent little time on combat training. Rather than correcting your form or educating you on Separatist capabilities, his focus was instead driven toward scrutinizing the closed doors to your mind. All during hours-long, joint meditation sittings in which Master Windu attempted to meticulously probe your life force with the gentle influence of his signature on your forehead.
Sometimes, the spells would last so long that, in the end, you were often left with the sensation of a phantom touch. Though it always faded eventually, so imperceptibly that it felt more like a shift in temperature than a disappearing force.
Although the two of you ended up making little progress, you still enjoyed these opportunities as a way to get to know your new Advisor. Exchanges regarding his unwavering faith in the Order’s ideals reminded you of your own lifelong commitment to a similarly demanding prophecy. The Master also seemed to share a kindred distaste for politics, conveying briefly his disapproval of the Jedi and Senate’s interwoven nature, hastily drawn at the outset of war.
Most importantly, however, the two of you shared a distinct displeasure for the Senate’s conversion of Jedi into generals. You’d been struggling with this concept of converting Jedi peacemakers into soldiers for weeks now, and it appeared that Master Windu held common sentiments. All in all, it was a moment that made the Order feel just a little less foreign to you after a lifetime of studying its older, more contrasting ways.
Perhaps that’s why, despite previous reticence about receiving a ‘new Master,’ you found yourself gradually opening up to the idea.
Besides, you could tell Master Windu was experiencing some kind of similar development.
You’d discovered from Anakin this past week that the wise man had long disapproved of Jedi who acted outside the Order. From that, you easily acknowledged that despite offering to advise you, the traditional Master likely remained biased against your nature.
In fact, you fleetingly surmised that the only reason he put his name in the hat was so he could keep a closer eye on you. On the Gray Jedi that came from a long line of counterfeiters against the Order he held in such high esteem.
Yet, as your sessions progressed, you sensed a subtle shift in the Jedi Master. How the crease of his brow subtly slackened with each passing hour. How his openness to your questions became faintly readable.
Though whether that was because he’d momentarily forgotten about your past or had become lost in his analysis of your mind, you didn’t know.
What you did know was that you appreciated the sagacious Master’s relatable convictions, allegedly burgeoning tolerance, and outright professionalism.
And that was enough for you to test the waters in requesting his guidance.
It was at the tail-end of one of these forums that you narrowly untangled these painfully strange migraines, focusing primarily on their unpredictability and continuance rather than each occurrence’s raging ferocity.
And in the end, you found the effortless flow of his counsel to be uniquely compelling.
“Meditate on these irritants. But do not only acknowledge their existence. Observe their nature. If you give these headaches a name derived from your inner impressions, it may aid you in identifying and extinguishing their source.”
So, you did just that.
In the days that followed into the start of your second week at the Temple, when that familiar pulsing tingle began to crawl across your hairline, you made a routine out of stopping whatever you were doing to search for a quiet alcove. Then, after locating a corner of the Temple free from distractions, you’d lower yourself into crossed legs, all to funnel your accessible energies into discerning the exact nature of this eccentric affliction. You’d reach out to the Force, drawing in its swirling ecosystem through tingling extremities, astutely wielding it to dive into the yawning depth of your inner being.
And for those few days, you explored branching elements of your mind, tracing each errant twig to sense its perception of the boundless, clawing twinges that relentlessly contested your focus.
It was arduous work. Attempting to observe the irritants’ nature would eventually lure you toward sensing its more distinctive effects. But at the same time, the action often amplified your tenderness to those countless cerebral spasms. They were still quite bearable, of course. But it certainly did nothing to speed along your investigation.
That was until the third day in. When you finally found a pattern.
Even now, you starkly remembered how the discovery permeated your body with untapped endurance simply from the realization’s excitement alone.
On that day, you were able to eventually comprehend that, while your skull’s outline felt the stitching thrums of the week before, the sensation was marginally dissimilar in its influence on your life force. Here, you still felt the indiscriminate, unpleasant taps against your spirit, but with a nearly imperceptible caveat.
You rooted out their tendency to unfurl on impact.
So, with the next pounding ache, you were empowered to recognize it again, snatching the sensation with agile fingers. The savage smack quickly plunged into scattered fragments, like drops of water thrashing apart from a violent impact with stone.
That was it.
It was like raindrops, pattering against your mind.
Yet, it wasn’t the refreshing sensation that you associated with such weather. Not that electrifying stimulation you felt in this very instant while you sustained your urgent, whirlwind dash down another curving passage harboring hints of gaseous fumes.
No.
Rain was vitalizing, giving life to despairing vegetation and beasts alike. For you especially, its cooling effect on balmy Coruscanti afternoons calmed your mind. It ventilated you in a chill that provoked cherished memories of soaring amid whispering snowstorms during those afternoon duels with Qui-Gon on Hoth.
Yet this was different.
These drops were draining. Heavy. They weighed down your soul. Blackened your connection to the Force through a permeating pain that enveloped the branches of your mind and sucked the sap of your thoughts.
Yes, blackened.
Master Windu said to give it a name. An association. And, finally, you felt confident enough to put words to this strange disorder’s influence on your inner being.
Black Water.
If you only knew what a mistake you’d made.
Somehow, following this identification, the migraines spiraled into a realm of greater frequency and brutality. They would linger in their pervasion. Graduating from hours to afternoons of ubiquitous discomfort. And then, when you tried to find familiar solace in the quelling nature of a meditative state, you harshly discovered that doing so now only magnified the pain’s potency.
You recalled it so clearly. How the shock of that realization jolted you at your very core, ripping you violently from your connection to the Force like a toy snatched from the hand of a youngling.
It was something you had never experienced before.
And it forced you to learn the hard way that for the time being, it was best to avoid meditation.
Instead, you found it easier to unearth the medicinal properties of attaching your mind to another matter.
And your poison of choice?
Running.
You weren’t sure why it lessened your cranial discomfort more than any form of meditation or training. Maybe it was the fresh air. Or the exploratory element. Or the dichotomy of the District’s underground shafts which swayed darkly on even the brightest of days.
Maybe it was because, in a way, sprinting combined the two Jedi practices. It did encourage you to physically tap into the Force for access to greater speeds, and simultaneously unclogged your mind of worldly distractions.
Still then, it was only enough to center yourself. Never to the degree in which the migraines’ kindling was fanned into embers.
Whatever the reason, it didn’t change the fact that mere minutes into this afternoon’s excursion, you were able to finally relish in the flood of relief that followed. One that washed over you as sprightly legs carried you into a mystic realm where stabbing pains were faintly dulled by the rule of constant motion.
The past week of experimental sprints into Coruscant’s veins had become your drug of choice. Providing additional relief just from the realization that occupying your mind would temper these moments.
Now that made you hum retrospectively. It was hard not to wonder if perhaps this notion subconsciously motivated you to join Anakin’s short-lived piloting class this morning.
You ruminated about those spiraling seconds in the cockpit once more. Even then, in the midst of intrusively distracting g-forces, you were powerless to ignore that your headaches still somehow stirred with new vengeance, threatening your theory on how to properly address the affliction.
You descended another set of echoing stairs, this time entering a residential tunnel that reigned sleek with standing water gradually leaking through cracked roofing. Though the hazard never assuaged your volant charge past the streams of identical, stonewashed doors on either side. Landmarks that supplied forward guidance as you thought carefully about the day’s earlier incident.
With another burdened exhale, you compared the fighter episode to all the others, quickly deciding that this morning’s occurrence was the worst to date. If you were being perfectly honest with yourself, it was the first time one of these vast headaches really threatened your ability to function in the moment.
And that spooked you.
Either way, it was clear in its aftermath, that it was time to return to old habits.
To what worked.
You swiveled left, the squeak of your twisting heel reverberating off the slender walls as you rushed down another flickering tunnel of rundown apartments. You were thankful that the potency of constantly coarse splits at your forehead’s center had eased into a duller pound, so much so that it permitted your mind to wander during this impromptu outing.
However, you weren’t expecting to become so consumed with inner musings to the point of becoming lost within a labyrinth of snaking neighborhoods, forgotten by the Senate District’s lavishly living surface inhabitants. In fact, as you glanced around the residential tunnel, you soon realized that you couldn’t even remember how you entered this quiet zone. One that didn’t follow any semblance of rational architecture to hint at a way out.
So, with no signage to guide you in your search for higher ground, you did the only thing you could do.
You followed the quivering lights, lodged every few meters into the decrepitly, sinking ceiling.
A luminescent road out of the darkness.
That was your plan for the last ten minutes, anyway, until a deep-toned snap zipped past your ears, reverberating across every door as it traced down either wall.
You ground to a halt, dribbling boots faintly whimpering as they fought the floor’s slickness in your attempt to reel toward the noise.
A few heavy seconds passed you stared back into the tunnel's murky depths, trying to discern the source of the sound while labored breaths rung out from your body and colored the eerily barren chamber. It was difficult to focus your vision, finding that the barely perceptible shapes hidden in shadowed corners were playing tricks on your eyes the longer you stared at their forms.
Another crack.
But this time, you could markedly tag its source.
Far down on the opposite side of the shaft, another brittle light in the ceiling’s row numbed like the death of a star.
Great.
You whirled back around, launching yourself into an energized bolt as you tried to escape the coming darkness.
In all sincerity, you should have assumed something like this would happen. You had found the vacancy of these quarterly halls odd. It was midday in a residential area so some activity was to be expected. Beings would usually be on their lunch break around now.
Yet, there were none around.
But the partial flooding? The unstable roofing?
You sighed, powerful legs carrying you blisteringly quick while you connected the dots ahead of the accelerating demise of weak, mechanical stars.
This underground neighborhood was breaking down.
It must have been evacuated.
And now?
They were cutting the power.
Drawing on the effortlessly fluid stability of the Force, you catalyzed your stride, hoping to get a better sense of where you were before being immersed in utter blackness.
Luckily, the opportunity to do so appeared to lie just ahead.
Fairly soon into your run, you noticed the fork in the road, pinned to the tunnel’s far reach. How the illusionary dead-end wall, in fact, split into two, opposing paths. All you needed to do was get there fast enough for a cursory glance of either end before the last light at your disposal became the limited glow of your grayed lightsaber.
You picked up the pace, the reflection of your form in the waterlogged stone flying like loose leaves trying to catch up with you as it too bolted from the ensuing pattern of light fixtures snapping off.
Soon, there were only a few left as you neared the hall’s end, impelling you to power one last thrust of your leg into the junction. You swiveled your head down both corridors as your heels squealed to a halt before the stone wall, catching sight of a larger industrial door just meters into the second corridor as the final fixture above cracked into nothingness.
But that was all you needed.
It didn’t take you long to maneuver your way toward the exit in the pitch dark, lugging open the croaking apparatus only to be met with an ascending staircase illuminated by the scattered, gloomy rays of a showery, Coruscant afternoon.
You jogged up the concrete steps before encountering a wide, open-aired avenue, dotted with as many road lamps as hurrying beings who scampered from industrial cover to cover in an effort to avoid wetting their clothes. The walls of buildings encapsulating this strip stood in an unornamented, brutalist fashion, which effectively limited their options. It was quite the contrast to the streets of the Entertainment District. But that was all you could really say about it. Your observations remained sparse as the continuous downpour did little to reduce the haze.
Pivoting to your right, you followed the road’s natural path, immediately feeling the cool sprinkles pelt your face as you slowed into a crisp walk. You tugged at your biting, saturated robe, bringing it closer to break the slight draft.
As you turned down a wider street doused in equal cloud cover, you decided that it was time to return to the Temple. If anything, at least to give your body a break. You’d been running for close to an hour, and those stretched lungs and burning legs were sure to thank you for the short respite.
Perhaps you could return to the Archives for some easy reading. Your headache had dissipated enough to certainly make that possible now. And you had to admit, you were feeling a bit behind on your knowledge of Separatist technologies.
It was only twelve minutes into your return hike when you began to embrace that peaceful rumination on future plans. Twelve minutes for your mind to drift to lighter musings. But also twelve minutes for those thoughts to be swiftly dashed from reality by a new intrigue.
There were many beings who dusted the streets. All of which you simultaneously kept a close eye on. Of course, special attention was dedicated to those who’d decide for a period to amble too close for comfort. But even then, it usually held no matter. As always, they’d eventually divert onto a path of their own as wandering, city walkers did.
An example was the being that had been sauntering ten meters behind you for the past five minutes. One you didn’t give much mind to. Until they were oddly quick to tread on the heels of your latest deviation from the main road. Which was…odd, but not enough of anything to concern you.
Yet.
You swiveled down another detour, this one more unusual than the last given the District’s layout. It was part of your usual route of choice, since it avoided most of the neighborhood’s major hubs, but still powered enough street lamps to guide you back to the Temple in the evening.
Or in this case, on a rainy day.
Either way, you knew from experience that this was usually when any unintentional tails would break off to continue their lives on a road to elsewhere.
Maybe they were returning home to a waiting family after a long intergalactic trip. Running late for a business meeting because of the rain. Or simply exploring the city’s landmarks with their free afternoon.
These were all activities you imagined civilians had the freedom to enjoy. Freedoms that you certainly fantasized about in your younger years. And freedoms that you later learned you’d have to sacrifice to protect.
You smiled thoughtfully to yourself. It always helped to have a gentle reminder of the good you were doing. These elements of peace you were maintaining. It even allowed you to take a relaxing breath as you continued along the path not taken.
Until the creeping stranger’s presence fully seized your attention by following you down this second detour.
You fought the urge to look back, despite their presence jumping to the forefront of your mind. If that being really was tracking you, you didn’t want to raise any suspicions that you’d caught on.
Not yet.
Even now, after back-to-back questionable activity, you still needed to make certain that your misgivings were accurate. Thinking about it, you would’ve sensed this individual before had they been following you during your run. So why would they suddenly trail you now? You hadn’t done anything topside to give your identity away.
Then, this might have still all been just a simple misunderstanding.
Right?
Only one way to find out, you told yourself.
Keeping an even pace, you scanned your surroundings, quickly catching a narrow alleyway that lay just a few steps ahead to your left. Narrowing your eyes through the gloomy lighting, you soon realized that its width would at most fit two and a half people stood side-by-side. In other words, this gap was sure to lead to a dead-end. One that any city dweller would know not to enter in a neighborhood like this. And one that any traveler would have the instincts to avoid.
From this, you comfortably concluded that a bona fide passerby would have no reason to follow you inside.
Unless, it was you they were after.
So, you swiftly ducked in.
You jogged a few meters down the pitch-black crevice, nimble toes putting some distance between you and the fissure’s entrance before briskly finding a secure spot from which to spin around and face it. You shoved at the midsection of your robe with the back of your hand, nudging it away to make room for stiff fingers to envelop the cold metal of your belted saber.
Your silent, hot breath fogged the cold air just below your nose as you waited out those few, tense seconds. A careful quietness encapsulated your form despite your prediction that this stranger would likely pass.
It was always best to be cautious, you reminded yourself.
But, of course, you had no such luck.
On high alert, thumb hovering over the hilt’s activation, you observed as the being sidestepped in after you, their face and figure obscured by the rift’s absence of light. Watchful steps characterized their form while they inched deeper into the crevice, head tilting side to side as they tried to discern their surroundings with blurry fingertips gracing the left wall to keep them centered.
Strangely, you perceived an air of delicacy from their cautious outline. A meaningfulness in each of their carefully selected motions. However, you still had difficulty in sensing their motivations. Whether it be malice or geniality, their presence felt too calm to point to either direction definitively.
And you were not one to take chances.
So, with the flick of the wrist, you snatched your saber from its resting place with a clink, unfurling that familiar gray glow as you stepped back into a lunge to whip the blade up before resting it inches from the figure’s face.
Instantly, its luminescence unveiled from the twilight a familiar set of bright blue, yielding eyes, accompanied by an auburn beard dewed by drizzles. The plasma’s heat had stirred the man to raise his hands calmly, feigning surrender as a curious expression tickled his cheeks.
You sighed, adrenaline evaporating from your veins while your blade dropped a few degrees.
“You’d think after a lifetime as a Jedi, you’d know it wasn’t a good idea to sneak up on one,” you voiced, raising a brow.
Obi-Wan lowered his hands, offering you an affable expression as you deactivated your saber and snapped it to your belt.
“I’m always willing to take a chance for a friend.”
You shook your head in mock disapproval while you moved to pass the Jedi, unintentionally brushing your upper arm against the weight of his similarly soaked cloak. It didn’t take long to reemerge on the outer end of the gap, cascading you in the brighter light of the still-overcast street.
“What are you doing out here?” You asked, vision centered on a pair of beings strolling near the far end.
“Looking for you,” he stated matter-of-factly while following your form out onto the road.
You leisurely turned, now able to better see his face as he phased into the muddled daylight, his hair sleek with water and eyes dulled by the hidden sun.
“Why?”
The relaxed Jedi paused before you, creasing his brows as he spoke tactfully.
“Anakin came to see me earlier.”
You looked away, choosing to draw your attention to the street ahead before leaning into a quiet stroll.
Though the Master was quick to follow, matching your pace as he glided beside you.
“He was concerned,” Obi-Wan continued, stitched gaze never leaving your face. “Something about a reaction you had during his piloting lesson today?”
The understatement tugged at the corner of your mouth, though your eyes remained tethered like anchors to the raindrops exploding into puddles below.
“Did he also tell you he took the fighter into an Aileron Roll with the gravity dampers off?” You emphasized, waggling your brows in a challenging, yet light-hearted manner.
His eyes widened for a brief moment, cycling through all the stages of what you could only assume was Former Padawan-related grief before capitulating into an expression of experienced resignation.
His gaze fell to the ground, mirroring yours.
“He did not.”
You breathed in deeply, absorbing the momentary silence flooded only by the pitter-patter of cooling raindrops. It had aerated the street of this morning’s blistering heat. And as a creature of the cold, it had the effect of alleviating your exercise-induced, clammy skin deliciously.
“Silvey,” Obi-Wan began gently. “Anakin isn’t the only one.”
You blinked toward the subdued Jedi who must’ve sensed the motion as he quickly met your gaze. Both pairs of cloud-shaded eyes locked for a moment, enabling you to stretch into the space before signaling for him to continue.
“I’ve also noticed that something is affecting you.”
You sighed.
You began wracking your brain for some excuse. Any excuse that you could throw out at this moment. All so that you didn’t need to explain your strange yet nuanced predicament to the man beside you.
You searched the falling droplets for answers, reminding yourself that finding a solution before anyone close to Anakin learned the truth was for the best.
It’s not his job to worry about you.
And that went for Obi-Wan too.
“Is it Qui-Gon? I understand his death may be fresh for you. I’d be happy to lend an ear—“
“No, it’s not that,” you interrupted.
Instantly, you recognized the falsehood in that statement.
“I mean…”
You shook your head at yourself, hoping to shake the right, jumbled thoughts into alignment.
“I can’t deny that he’s been occupying my mind more than most things…”
Your jaw hung loose as you tried to catch the words buzzing in jumbles above your head. But, for some reason, they just kept escaping through your clawing, slippery fingers.
“But that’s not…it,” you uttered.
You glanced back up at Obi-Wan.
His eyes had abruptly softened while he listened to your voice intently. Vision piercing your very soul as if he was hoping to look right through you.
And you weren’t sure why, but that penetrating expression suddenly took you off guard.
Your brain stumbled as you tried to refocus on the conversation. You supposed you weren’t expecting him to have had such an empathetic reaction. Right? Maybe you just hadn’t really made a point to notice how kind his eyes could be. At least, not before now.
But here? In this instant?
You could see their radiance so clearly.
Even among gradually strengthening raindrops that blinked into streams after colliding with the chiseled face of the Jedi before you. They did nothing to dissuade the thoughtfulness that shone from his features.
But then again, wasn’t that always the rule with Master Kenobi?
It was those same eyes that had shared with you looks of encouragement when you were first struggling to pass the thoughts of large crowds. Those same bright blue eyes that happily guided you to the Sparring Arena during your first full day at the Temple when you were terribly lost. Those same entertained eyes that would glance at you briefly after throwing a sarcastic remark at Anakin to lighten everyone’s moods. Those same, unwaveringly concerned eyes that trailed your figure every time you unexpectedly removed yourself from his company, always to deal with another burning onslaught of pulsing stabs that gradually became more pronounced on your features.
Those thoughtful eyes that were first to check if you were okay, despite the Master Jedi having taken the brunt of your full-speed collision, during that shuttle escape from Hoth.
Those unflinchingly kind eyes which, for some unknown reason, seemed to crack a chink in your conviction.
Enough to let out a sliver of splintering light.
Your feet stalled underneath you, bringing both you and Obi-Wan to an aimless rest as your heart raced. You curved fully toward the soaking Jedi, lips parted in thought as you searched for the words to begin explaining your situation to the man waiting ever so patiently.
You weren’t sure whether it was from the buildup to this long-held secret’s reveal or a side effect of your body’s fatigue. But the moment you glanced up, the moment your gaze locked once more with those two, perceptively azure orbs, you suddenly felt…
Very
Very
Naked.
“I’ve been having…headaches.”
Master Kenobi’s head tilted slightly in disquiet confusion, subconsciously inciting you to tighten the robe’s wrap around your torso with crossed arms.
“Headaches?” He asked oddly.
“I think?” You dithered. “But they aren’t…normal.”
Exhaling, you redirected your gaze to the surrounding building’s upper structures and the gloomy gray of Coruscant’s atmosphere as you rammed through your next words, leaving behind any care of making sense as the wall you had so carefully built began to chip under his still engrossed stare.
“At first, they’d show up…randomly. Last for hours no matter what I did. Until I asked Master Windu for his input. He told me to give it a name the next time I meditated. He said it would help. That if I could pinpoint the feeling, it would root out the source of getting rid of them. So, I did.”
You shrugged.
“But, for some reason, it made everything worse. The times, the duration, the pain. And it doesn’t feel like a regular headache either. It’s-“
The bridge of your nose creased in thought as you drew imaginary lines from rooftop to rooftop with your eyes.
“Deeper.”
The silence that followed, no matter how short, felt utterly deafening. Even the quiet showers around you seemed to stall into white noise.
Until Obi-Wan sighed.
Pensively.
His furrowed brows never left your form as he raised a hand to tensely stroke his mouth for a moment.
“Is that what happened in the fighter this morning? One of these…headaches?”
Your gaze shifted back to his as you breathed.
“Yes.”
He hummed, resting his fingers upon the beard. “And when did they start?”
“About a week and a half ago.”
The Master Jedi allowed his hand to laxly fall, chin rising unexpectedly as his brows faintly furrowed. He’d now given room for his earlier concern to sparkle a bit brighter off ocean eyes that suddenly burrowed into yours.
“I’m taking you to the infirmary.”
Your stomach dropped, unsure if it was dragged down by your displeasure in making this situation a bigger deal than you believed it to be, or by the complete confidence with which the man before you voiced his plain alarm.
You began to question yourself. Were you misjudging this affliction? Were your symptoms really that bad?
Honestly, you thought, you’d had far greater scares on Hoth.
Qui-Gon’s gray hairs could attest to that.
And although most of your heart was beating a bit faster to the rhythm of these circulating thoughts, you couldn’t help but be enveloped by the small fragment that warmed at Master Kenobi’s caring sentiment. So much so, that it pulled you from your uncertainty before guiding your voice into a sweeter lull to address him.
“Obi—“
“This is not good, Silvey,” he interrupted firmly. “And I don’t like leaving such matters unresolved.”
You exhaled, shaking your head in disbelief as you backed down from his solid stance. Instead, you angled back toward the path ahead, resuming that same calm stroll with heavy feet. Again, Obi-Wan fluidly followed, his creased expression peaking at yours, which remained impassive despite your inner thoughts.
“I can’t.”
Master Kenobi dissolved into further unease as he acknowledged your response puzzledly.
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re right,” you began, neck angling toward him coolly. “I don’t understand what this is either. And it could be dangerous or it could be nothing. But what’s fact is that the more I involve beings from the Temple, the more likely this will all get back to Anakin. And I can’t have that.”
You huffed, sending a feeble kick to a passing puddle underneath you while building winds began to zip around the surrounding structure’s corners, nudging you both by the edges of your robes.
“I’m his Guardian, Obi-Wan. The last thing I should be doing is dragging him into unpredictable matters. He has enough to deal with right now, and I’m not adding to it-“
A sudden weight warmed your shoulder, guiding you to pause mid-stroll in the midst of finishing your thought. Still, you followed the slight tug, turning toward the man whose gentle hand rested assuredly by your throat like a sudden fire on a cool afternoon.
“So your solution is to travel through rainy streets in dangerous neighborhoods? Are you hoping to find the answer at the wrong end of a phaser?” He questioned sarcastically, retrieving his limb to gesticulate to your surroundings as a sudden chill nestled in its place.
You defended yourself, throwing back that same trickle of wit that briefly oozed from his figure with a cheeky grin. “Running has proven to help. Besides, I’d never pass up the chance to hone my combat skills. We are in a war, you know.”
You tried to suppress your chuckle at his unimpressed stare.
Still, you couldn’t help the gravity of the situation overcome you once more as his expression carefully hardened.
“And what if something happens because this wasn’t addressed sooner?” He argued. “I agree. Right now, it’s best to not tell Anakin. And I can make sure that he won’t find out. I certainly won’t tell him, and you can trust the doctors at the Temple to do the same. But you owe it to the Galaxy to at least sit through an examination. If the prophecy is true, we will all need you at your best.”
You exhaled, realizing fairly quickly that you were on the losing side of this battle.
“Please,” he emphasized.
You watched as Obi-Wan raised both hands, delicately resting each on your upper arms with their encapsulating heat.
Then, he leaned in.
Just a few inches, but enough to pervade your eyes, filling all the edges of your vision with his cautiously encouraging expression. He spoke lowly, in a deep, smooth tone as the hotness of his breath brushed across your wet cheeks.
“Allow me to accompany you to the Infirmary.”
The sensation of your throbbing heart had now reached your fingertips, shooting down your arms so boldly that you were surprised Obi-Wan couldn’t feel the beats through his steadied palms. Though his confidence in his ability to keep this matter private had eased your stirring veins slightly.
A quick checkup itself wouldn’t do too much harm, you supposed. As long as it remained just that. Still, this was all assuming Obi-Wan could keep you under The Chosen One’s radar until the matter was fully resolved. As you stared at his confident demeanor, you also had to admit that you’d been a bit concerned about how this exchange would end. For a brief second, you thought that as soon as you explained your affliction to Obi-Wan, he’d whip right back around to inform his former Padawan. He’d certainly known him for many more years than you, you surmised.
But that wasn’t the case.
Master Kenobi respected your motives. And he seemed assured enough to support you through these small sacrifices that you’d always need to make as Anakin’s Guardian.
As long as you were also getting the help you needed, it appeared.
But, deep down, you knew that wouldn’t always be possible. Save this exception.
Is that why telling him, even after all of these assurances, still felt so wrong?
No, there was no need to remind Obi-Wan of that reality at this moment. You were comfortable enough to let those blue eyes get the win they so strongly fought for.
Tugging on the seam of your robe, you spoke softly.
“Alright.”
And in return, the Jedi Master offered you a grateful, almost relieved, smile.
After presenting Obi-Wan with this small victory, you couldn’t help the sudden confusion that overcame your mind, born from a latent realization. A perplexing thought which transformed into one more question that you needed to ask before surrendering yourself to the trained hands of Jedi physicians.
“By the way,” you spoke up. “How did you find me? I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”
The Master sent you a look so pointed that it blared across rooftops one undeniable judgment:
That he knew you were not going to like this.
“Apparently, Anakin was having trouble finding you for those unplanned sparring sessions the two of you enjoy so much. Mostly, because he hasn’t been able to sense your presence.”
He exhaled.
“His solution was to place a tracker in your robe.”
Your jaw dropped, a drop of rain catching your marginally exposed tongue.
“That little-“
“Don’t worry,” Obi-Wan announced in that thick, Coruscanti accent.
“I told him to turn it off.”
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