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im-a-wonderling · 4 months

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Rescue Me, Part 3 ~ Obi-Wan Kenobi

Merry Christmas from me to all y'all!

Summary: Obi-Wan and his padawan arrive on Taris, but Obi-Wan's odd behavior only increases, sending his padawan into confusion.

Warnings: none that I can think of, let me know if I missed something!

Word count: 8.1k

Rescue Me masterlist

The landing gear clicked as it unfolded, the ship coming to a landing a moment later.

Obi-Wan and I stood in silence as we waited for the door to open, allowing us to step foot onto the skyscraper that rose high above the pollution Taris was famous for. The rich got to avoid the worst of the pollution, condemning the rest of the planet to fend for themselves.

It was the kind of thing that would stoke the flames of Obi-Wan’s contempt, causing it to bleed through his resplendent Force signature. As we waited, however, my sense of him was strangely subdued. What was left of the normally pleasing hum had soured into a deep whine.

“What’s our objective?” I asked, unable to take the silence anymore.

“Taris has stayed out of the war until now, but Senator Kin Robb is realizing she cannot stay neutral anymore. She must pick a side, so she has arranged a meeting including the Republic and the Separatists.”

“So…we’re making a case for Taris to join the Republic?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Obi-Wan nod. Attempting for some normalcy, I turned to him, plastering on a lopsided smile. “You mean I’ll finally get to see the famous Negotiator Kenobi in action?”

Obi-Wan remained staring directly ahead. “That you will.” There was no mirth or happiness in Obi-Wan’s tone.

I dropped my smile. “You don’t want to be here.”

As the door cracked open, letting in the first sickly yellow light of Taris and revealing the sight of a tall woman and two even taller armored soldiers waiting for us, Obi-Wan finally looked over at me. “I am not a politician.”

“Thank the stars for that,” I muttered. Perhaps I was imagining it, but as Obi-Wan swept forward to meet the attendant, I could’ve sworn I felt a momentary flash of warm light through the Force.

The woman, dressed in elegant purple garb, glided forward. “Thank you, Master Jedi, for your presence here.”

I craned my neck to meet her gaze, marveling at the famed height of Tarisians. Obi-Wan answered with a bow, which I quickly followed. “Thank you for the invitation,” my master said, a silkiness to his tone I rarely heard before. “This is my padawan, Y/N.”

“Welcome to Taris, Y/N.” The woman shot a no nonsense smile at me. “I’m Kin Robb, I’m very happy to see both of you safely on my planet.” She refocused on Obi-Wan. “Now that you’ve arrived, the negotiations can start. In the instance that they extend overnight, I’ve asked them to prepare a suite for you.”

I tried to keep my expression neutral. A suite? That would be a vast improvement over a bedroll in some war camp.

“And finally, the conditions of this negotiation are peaceful, so we ask that you surrender all your weapons to us.”

A shot of alarm spiked through me, and though I couldn’t feel it, I knew Obi-Wan felt the same. “Ma’am, we are peacekeepers,” Obi-Wan said. “We do not raise our weapons until it is necessary, and if it is necessary, we will need them.”

“I’m afraid I must insist,” Kin Robb replied, her voice firm.

One of the soldiers expectantly held out a shiny, metallic tray. I looked at Obi-Wan, silently asking for direction. He gave me a tight nod. Reluctantly, I set my lightsaber on the tray, and Obi-Wan followed suit. I watched the soldier carry the tray into the building, feeling off-balance without the familiar weight of my lightsaber on my belt.

Kin Robb’s appreciation was evident, if subdued. Like most everyone in the galaxy, she would’ve heard stories about Jedi. If I were more naive, I would’ve expected those stories to speak for our peaceful and moral conduct, but I knew firsthand that not every Jedi was peaceful and moral.

“If you follow me,” the senator said, “I will lead you to where the Count of Serenno is waiting.”

Obi-Wan stiffened. He really didn’t want to be negotiating, did he, if the very sound of it wound him tighter than a spool of thread? Whatever the issue, I would be there to help him, I decided as I started to follow the politician. For my master, I would be a pillar of–

A hand grabbed a hold of my elbow, dragging me back. “Thank you,” Obi-Wan said to Kin Robb, causing her to stop, “but my padawan will be heading to the suite.”

“What?” I blurted, twisting my neck up to look at my master, confused at the abrupt change in plans. “What are you talking about?”

His beard scratched beside my ear, his words barely audible. “I need you to go to our suite.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to see you until I retire to the suite at the end of the day, is that understood?”

A splash of discontent soaked me through to the bone. “Obi-Wan, I am here to learn. I won’t learn if I’m not with you.”

“Go to the suite,” Obi-Wan said lowly. “That’s an order.” Without waiting for a response, he followed Kin Robb, whose surprise I could sense even if it didn't appear on her face.

I watched them go.

“This way, please,” the remaining soldier said pleasantly.

Since Krell became a figment of my past, I’d gotten better at sorting through my thoughts and feelings. I had to, since I could no longer push them down or hide them. Obi-Wan helped me identify the ones of which Jedi needed to be wary.

Shame.

Jealousy.

Fear.

The feeling boiling inside me was familiar, one I’d become intimate with long before I’d learned its name: anger.

It was one thing for Obi-Wan to stonewall me, to not treat me as confidentially as he used to. But to keep me from the negotiations? Was he punishing me? And if he was, what for? He’d been given ample opportunity to tell me why he was displeased with me, and yet he said nothing.

Clenching my jaw, I followed the soldier.

The suite was indeed something to behold.

Plush, colorful furniture filled the room which adjoined the two bedrooms, each with beds massive enough for an Anoatian pit beast. Double doors made of transparisteel led to a balcony, as if the room were intended for a contamination connoisseur to gaze out on the hazy, sallow air hovering over the ground below.

The soldier left without so much as a word, leaving me to my own devices.

For the first hour, I fumed over being left out.

For the second, I paced, starting to worry about Obi-Wan. With no lightsaber and no padawan, would he be easily taken unawares?

For the third, I searched the rooms for anything out of the ordinary, almost hoping to find a bug or a bomb if only for some entertainment.

When four hours had passed, my restlessness had peaked, enough for me to try something unorthodox. I seated myself in front of the balcony doors, relaxing my shoulders and taking a deep breath. The Force responded as soon as I closed my eyes. “Where’s Obi-Wan?” I whispered. I waited for the Force to grab me, like it had on Felucia, bringing me right to my master.

But nothing happened.

I felt the Force around me, but it didn’t take me anywhere.

I huffed. I’d just have to do it myself then. Taking a deep breath, I began to stretch my conscience. I didn’t know what direction Obi-Wan was in, so I just reached out in all directions, expanding the radius of my mind, searching for any hint of my master.

My conscience didn’t make it very far before a searing pain shot through my head. “Ow!” I blurted, my eyes shooting open. But the pain stopped as soon as it’d begun.

“Ready to be a Jedi Knight, my butt,” I grumbled.

The door at my back opened, and in a moment, I was on my feet, ready for anything.

Obi-Wan let the door fall closed behind him, walking over to the couch.

I cocked my head. How had I not felt Obi-Wan drawing near? I’d searched for him, and he’d been close, and yet I hadn’t sensed him. Curious, I reached through the Force again, trying to place Obi-Wan’s light. But there was no light, nor any hint of his emotional state. I scowled at him. Why wasn’t he sharing with me? Why was his light so far away?

Obi-Wan dropped onto the couch, closing his eyes and bringing his fingers up to rub at his temples. He looked…exhausted. In fact, his very bones seemed to sag underneath his weight. The salient weariness lifted my irritation.

I sat beside him. “Are you okay?”

“We didn’t get anywhere,” he rumbled. “Hours of talking, and we’re worse off than when we started.”

“Well, if it was an easy choice, Kin Robb wouldn’t have organized the meeting.”

Obi-Wan merely nodded, his eyes still closed.

Once, I’d been so cut off from the Force that I had to rely only on what my other senses could tell me. Now, it felt wrong to be able to see the evidence of Obi-Wan's fatigue and not feel it.

I got to my feet. “C’mon,” I said softly, causing Obi-Wan to look up at me. “Let’s go get some food.”

The servants down in the kitchen didn’t seem very happy to see us, and with their added height, I felt quite like a Gartro just waiting to be squished.

We were seated at a tiny table, tucked away by the cellar in the corner. Obi-Wan ate and drank with a vengeance I’d never seen in all my months with him. I was as happy as could be that I was eating something other than war rations, but this was different—Obi-Wan was practically ravenous. Were the negotiations really so taxing?

If he’d let me take part, perhaps I’d know.

Once Obi-Wan polished off his plate, a servant whisked both plates away and set down a serving of chocolate cake. “Wait, we didn’t–” I said to her, but she walked away before I could finish. I eyed the cake hungrily before looking up at Obi-Wan, asking the question I already knew the answer to. “Are we…allowed?” I braced myself for the brusque, negative response. As Jedi, we really weren’t supposed to indulge, and Obi-Wan wasn’t one for breaking rules.

But to my astonishment, a soft smile played with Obi-Wan’s lips. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

I grinned at him, swiftly taking a bite before he could change his mind.

The delightfully rich taste bloomed on my tongue, the decadent chocolate seemingly melting in my mouth. “Ohhhh.” I shut my eyes and covered my lips to keep any crumbs from falling because to let even a smidgen of this cake go to waste would be a crime. “Okay, I’m not exaggerating when I say this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” My eyes fluttered open to see Obi-Wan smiling at me. “You have to try this.”

Obi-Wan lifted his fork, tentatively bringing a bite to his mouth. At first he didn’t react, as if the cake were no different from the overly sweet sugar cubes we’d been eating for the last week. But then he started to cut another piece, and I knew he enjoyed our debauchery as much as I did.

We took turns cutting bites, eating in blissful silence.

I still couldn’t locate Obi-Wan’s light through the Force, but some of it had returned to his eyes again. As much as it pleased me to see him acting more like himself, only my concern derailed my boiling questions, and unluckily for him, my concern had been sated. Time for answers.

Obi-Wan refilled his cup, drinking deeply.

“You must be thirsty after all that negotiating,” I said shortly.

“I am,” he replied.

“I’m not thirsty at all.” I slowly cut another bite of cake. “There’s plenty of water in the suite.”

“Is there?” Obi-Wan’s tone was bland.

I tossed my fork onto the table. “Do you think I’m ready to be a Jedi Knight?”

Obi-Wan’s startled blue eyes looked from the delicious dessert to me. He slowly chewed his bite of cake, looking down at the fork in his hand. He chewed. And chewed. And chewed. Finally, he swallowed. “That is the council’s decision,” he said, before quickly adding: “do you know what specialty you’d want?”

I narrowed my eyes, but he avoided looking at me, studiously watching the cake as if it may grow legs and walk off the table. While I could hardly begrudge him vigilance where this cake was concerned, his evasion irked me. But I decided against voicing my thoughts. Obi-Wan could already feel it all anyway. “If I pass the trials, the council will decide my specialty.”

Obi-Wan didn’t answer for a moment, and when he did, it was quiet but firm. “When you pass the trials, do you know what specialty you will request?”

I stared at him, grappling with my confusion. Whatever answers he hid, I sensed they lay in between the words instead of in the words themselves, yet I could not puzzle them out. “Once the war is over, I was thinking perhaps of being a Consular Jedi.”

My master twirled his fork thoughtfully. “Not healing?” I lowered my eyes to my food, a pang shooting through my chest. He leaned forward. “You’re sad.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not hiding my emotions might be the Jedi way, but it sure benefits you a great deal.” I expected Obi-Wan to respond with immediate cheek, but he didn’t say anything. Yes, his eyes probed, urging me to reveal more, but his mouth stayed closed.

Without even thinking, I reached out with the Force, hoping to gain some insight, only to be reminded that it couldn’t tell me anything. Had Obi-Wan had some sort of falling out with the Force? Was that even possible?

“Why are you sad about healing?” Obi-Wan asked, forcing me back into the present.

I lowered my eyes. The healing ability of a Jedi stemmed from one thing, and one thing only. A thing I’d lost a long time ago. “The heart of a Jedi healer is pure.”

“And you think you’re not pure of heart anymore.” Obi-Wan paused, as if waiting for a reaction. I gave him none, instead raising my cup to my lips. “I think you are.”

I choked on the liquid, nearly splashing it all down my front. “How do you figure that?” I asked, once I finished coughing.

Obi-Wan rested his elbow on the table. “Cody told the council you saved a clone on Felucia.”

I looked down at the dessert, but instead of chocolate-y goodness, images of Dank, Click, and Exit floated through my mind. “I barely did anything.”

“You stabilized him.” Obi-Wan’s stare dared me to argue.

“Well, what of it?” I said crossly, staring right back. “It’s just common courtesy on the battlefield.”

“And then with that villager?” Obi-Wan asked. “Was that battlefield courtesy too?”

“No, that was picking up after the Separatists, which is our job last I checked.”

Again, it was strange to see Obi-Wan’s exasperation and not feel it. “Over and over again, you prove that your first instinct is to heal.”

“Instincts mean nothing, not when–”

“Instincts,” Obi-Wan said firmly, “mean everything. They reveal things that might otherwise be hidden by deception or fear. Your instincts do you credit, and credit builds up.”

“The council would never allow me to become a healer.”

“The council may change their minds,” Obi-Wan said slowly.

I slammed down my cup. “You and I both know that’s not true!”

The noise around us went quiet. I glanced around to see all the servants staring at me. My cheeks burned, and I averted my eyes, wishing I could disappear.

“Carry on,” Obi-Wan said, and I could feel the Force surging from his every word. Without a moment’s hesitation, the clatter and chatter resumed like there was never an interruption.

Another reminder of Obi-Wan’s prowess.

I gripped my cup. “The council sees me as an encumbrance. They won’t ever change their minds.”

“They’ve already begun to.” There was a strange tint to his tone. Was it…bitterness?

I titled my head. “What do you–”

As one, Obi-Wan and I twisted to look at the door. Something had changed, as if the planet had an earthquake and shifted everything to the left by an inch.

“I feel it too,” I said breathlessly. We leapt to our feet and sprinted out the door and up the stairs towards the higher levels.

Together.

Whatever we were about to face, we would do it together as master and pada–

“You need to go back to the suite!” Obi-Wan shouted at me as we ran.

Faltering a step, I struggled to keep time with him. “I’m not doing that,” I said.

“It’s an order, not a request.”

“You’re going to need back-up,” I bit back.

“Y/N, go!”

“You can’t fight on your–”

Obi-Wan grabbed my shoulder, bringing both of us to a stop. “I fought and won many fights before you became my padawan. Go!”

I watched Obi-Wan disappear out of sight, feeling as though he’d just cut me down at the knees. Why wouldn’t he let me help? If he believed in me as much as he said he did, why did he keep sending me away?

I stood straight. I obeyed him once and wasn’t able to be there to support him during the negotiations. I wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

I was about to start running again, when the Force tugged at me, tugging me in…a third direction. Not the way to the suite and in the opposite direction that Obi-Wan had gone. It was as if the Force was whispering to me, but I couldn’t quite hear the words. I tried to listen, but the whispering disappeared and the tugging increased.

So I followed it down two flights of stairs and across a large hall to a door that was slightly ajar.

On high alert, I pushed the door open wide enough to soundlessly slip inside, my heart hammering in my chest.

The walls were covered with weapons similar to the ones I’d seen the guards armed with. Why would the Force bring me to some type of armory? The answer made itself clear as my eyes fell upon a pedestal with two lightsabers on top. If Obi-Wan and I were going to protect Kin Robb and face whatever threat lurked in this building, we would need our weapons. I clipped both lightsabers onto my belt, turning to go. When my head lifted, I nearly screamed.

Behind the door lay a pile of Tarisian guards, all of them with closed eyes and unmoving bodies.

It took only a moment to realize I felt no life through the Force.

By the light. Someone had killed the guards and piled their bodies out of sight. Anything that could easily dispose of this many guards without raising an alarm was a grave threat.

And my master was running around this building without me or his lightsaber.

I left the armory at a panicked run, following the Force’s guidance, trusting that it would lead me to Obi-Wan. Up stairs I didn’t recognize, through corridors I didn’t have time to search.

I must’ve been nearing the top of the building when I ran past a pair of double doors and came to a screeching halt. The prodding from the Force was far from subtle. Something was going on in there.

If I were truly ready to be a Jedi Knight, I might’ve waited outside the door and eavesdropped to get an idea of what situation unfolded inside. If Obi-Wan were here, he would force us to wait.

I didn’t hesitate—I flung the doors open.

The suite was laid out exactly as the one I’d spent my day in.

The only differences were the rich purple of the couches, Kin Robb cowering behind said couches, and the balcony that contained a man I’d never seen before.

A brown cape, held in place by a delicate silver chain, flowed from the brutally straight posture of his shoulders. The power on his wrinkled face was centered upon the chilling assurance in the arch of his gray eyebrows. He stood so tall, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could be mistaken for a Tarisian. But the most threatening quality was the surge of shadows that emanated through the Force.

Whoever this man was, he was not a good one.

“You are interrupting.” He spoke with the authority of a man used to being obeyed. “Kin Robb and I have business.”

Kin Robb let out a little whimper, a strangely vulnerable sound from such a noble woman.

I stepped further into the room, my hands raised non-threateningly and my steps slow. “I believe these are Kin Robb’s chambers, therefore Kin Robb decides if I’m interrupting or not.” Kin Robb darted away from the bed, clinging to my arm as she ducked behind me. I shot an easy smile at the man. “Looks like I’m not interrupting.”

The man fluidly tilted his head to the side. “You’re with Kenobi.”

I didn’t answer, for I didn’t discern a question.

“He hid you away, did he?” The man pursed his lips as if he were amused. “How impotent. He kept you in the shadows, not by his side.” The man dipped his chin, and a searing warning hurtled through the Force. I whirled around, shoving Kin Robb behind me and igniting my saber just in time to block the strike from behind.

I beat back the tall assailant, before slicing their weapon in half and slicing at their arm. Only once the assailant was on the ground, gripping their arm in pain did I notice they wore a Tarisian soldier’s uniform. One of Kin Robb’s own men, turned against her? Or an imposter?

As I turned, I caught sight of the double doors I'd just come through. They were closed now. Suspicious, but I couldn't linger on it. I returned my attention to the man of darkness, holding my lightsaber loosely in front of me.

“You’re not ineffective,” the man noted with little surprise, like he was blandly commenting on the weather.

“No, I’m not. Now I believe it’s time for you to leave.”

The man narrowed his eyes, taking a few steps into the room, studying me with enough intensity to send a shiver up my spine. Clearly something perplexing held his attention, but what could he possibly be trying to puzzle out? “What are you?” the man finally asked.

What, not who.

The oddity of his phrasing threw me off guard, but I quickly brushed it off. “This negotiation is a peaceful one,” I replied. “You are in direct conflict with your government’s agreement by attacking Kin Robb in this fashion.”

“What are you?” he repeated.

“I’m a Jedi.” I crouched slightly, searching with the Force to discern if any more attacks lay hidden in wait. “That’s all you need to know.”

“You’re afraid.”

No, I’m not, I wanted to shout. I’m not afraid!

But a true Jedi didn’t hide their feelings.

“Yes,” I finally admitted. “Yes, I am.”

“Is that why you have a touch of–” he hesitated, as though tasting the air. “The dark?” The words made me lose focus for a moment. The man lifted a hand to his chin. “Or is it something else?” Without waiting for a reply, he reached out with his hand. I flinched, waiting for some sort of attack around me, but I felt nothing, nor any strange nudging from the Force.

What in the blazes was he doing? I threw a look over my shoulder to check on Kin Robb, who was unchanged from her position. If the man wasn’t attacking me nor attacking Kin Robb–

“You’re Krell’s padawan.”

I jerked back to face the man. He spoke with no intonation whatsoever, nor did his face show anything even remotely human, and yet I could sense the surprise that tainted the shadows.

Tightening my grip on my saber, I rolled my shoulders in an effort to stay loose. “I haven’t been his padawan in a long time.”

“And yet his signature is all over you.”

“Well, he matters not, for he is now one with the Force.” It was selfish of me, but my heart burned with satisfaction at the fact that Krell was gone. He couldn’t hurt me or anyone else ever again.

“And yet our teachings bely us, don’t they?” The corners of the man’s mouth turned up into an eerie smile. “He is tucked away inside you, deep in the recesses of your mind.”

“No, he’s–”

“How very like a Jedi you are,” the man said, a cruel smile on his face. Despite his dismissive tone, his dark eyes never left me. “You deny what is inside you.”

Robbed of speech, I glanced at Kin Robb again, to remind myself that my purpose was to keep her safe. Nothing else mattered, especially not this man’s goading.

“How disheartened Obi-Wan must’ve been to receive you as his student.”

I hissed at him before I could stop it. “You don’t know what you speak of!"

For the first time during the whole exchange, the man smiled. It was a starved gesture, the corners of his mouth barely upturning, but it transformed his whole face. He looked human, and it was far more terrifying than any scowl he could’ve given me.

“What a pity I have to kill you,” he said as he reached for his belt. “We could’ve done a lot together, you and me.” Red light filled the room as he ignited a lightsaber.

My heart nearly stopped beating against the pressure of fear that ballooned in my chest, and I quickly took calming breaths.

He was a sith.

I was barely able to lift my lightsaber before the man brought his own down.

“Go!” I shouted at Kin Robb, trying to hold the locked position. The man—the sith—possessed such strength, I wasn’t sure how long I could hold on.

The sith slid his lightsaber higher, creating an awful scraping sound before pushing hard enough for me to fall back a step, our lightsabers breaking contact. I had less than a moment to catch my breath before the red saber swung again.

I was at a disadvantage. Not only was this man clearly the superior fighter, but I was limited to the defensive. The moment I gave him an opening, he would take it and kill Kin Robb or worse.

The sound of rattling reached my ears, but I couldn’t afford to look. Was Kin Robb trying to open the doors?

My momentary distraction cost me.

The sith struck my lightsaber with such force, my fingers lost grip of it and it went flying off to the wall. I had barely a moment to grab Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from my belt before a great force hit my chest.

I managed to roll away, nearly colliding with Kin Robb, who was indeed wrestling with the doorknobs. Without sparing her another glance, I ran at the sith, lifting my master’s lightsaber in an offensive strike, determined to land a blow.

The red lightsaber moved too quickly for me to follow, and the next thing I knew, I flew backwards, landing so hard on my back that the lightsaber slipped from my grasp and my breath filtered out of my lungs.

“You’re no match for the dark side.” The man pointed his saber at me, the end so close to my neck, I could feel its heat on my skin.

I looked up into the man’s face, certain that it was going to be the last sight I would see in this life.

A loud thump sounded, and the man whirled around. Taking advantage of the moment, I scrambled to my feet, once more putting myself in between the man and Kin Robb.

That’s when I saw Obi-Wan, breathing hard on the balcony. His hands were empty, but his eyes were dark. “Get away from her.”

Get away from her.

Which ‘her’ was he referring to?

I thrust out my hand towards my lightsaber, using the Force to bring it to my palm.

“I must say, Kenobi,” the man clasped his hands behind his back, his lightsaber sheathed one more, “you did a spectacular job of hiding her from me. Now I know why you were shielding yourself from me earlier.”

I sucked in a breath. Obi-Wan, shielding himself?

“No wonder your padawan found me before you did.” The sith laughed, a cold and short-lived sound.

“I will give you a chance to leave in peace,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice stiff as his feet moved fluidly closer. “I suggest you take it.”

“Kin Robb is coming with me. Alive or dead, though I assume you prefer the former.”

“You’re in direct conflict with the terms of this arrangement.” Obi-Wan’s eyes didn’t budge from the man, but the fingers of his right hand flexed ever so slightly.

“Alas, the same Kenobi as always, with focus so great, it blinds him.”

Obi-Wan smiled tightly. “I appreciate your concern, Count Dooku, but I assure you my eyesight is fine.”

My legs wobbled like my knees were suddenly replaced with jelly.

This man was Count Dooku?

I’d been fighting Count Dooku?

As if he heard my thoughts, for he probably did, Dooku’s piercing eyes found me. “Tell me, Obi-Wan, did you choose your padawan or did the council?” Distantly, I saw Obi-Wan scramble towards his abandoned lightsaber, but I was frozen. Not under Dooku’s stare, but under his question. “Well, padawan?” Dooku asked. “Did he choose you?”

My world tunnel-visioned to just the sith lord in front of me.

Dooku’s eyes somehow flayed me open, inspecting every piece of me, even the parts of myself I couldn’t see. He read every piece of me, clearly searching for something, perhaps something that matched his own sinister shadows.

Suddenly, my view was blocked as Obi-Wan slid in between us.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said sharply, igniting his lightsaber, casting blue light onto Dooku’s harsh features. “I chose her.”

“Interesting,” Dooku murmured. “You’re flirting with the darkness, Kenobi.”

He means me, I thought.

Without looking away from my master, Dooku nodded his head, as if concurring with my thought. “And you know it, don’t you? It’s why you’re still shielding yourself.”

“I have no time for your chicanery,” Obi-Wan said forcefully. “This is your last chance to leave in peace.”

Dooku’s only answer was to step forward, and I braced myself for the furious fight that was about to occur.

But then Dooku cut a glance at the door, just as it burst open. As Tarisian warriors poured into the room, he ran for the balcony and jumped off, free-falling into the gray pollution and disappearing from sight.

A loud “No!” broke through my lips. Holding tight to my lightsaber, I ran for the balcony, bending my knees in preparation for jumping after him.

An iron grip seizing my arm, holding me back with a great jolt.

Incredulous, I looked at the firm hand and followed the length of the arm to my master.

“Let the warriors go after him,” Obi-Wan said, a little breathless. “Our concern is Kin Robb.”

I looked back the way Dooku had gone, contemplating wrenching my arm out of his reach and following Dooku anyway.

The grip tightened, as if Obi-Wan knew what I was considering. “Let him go.”

A ship rocketed out of the smog below. As we watched, it flew straight for the atmosphere, growing smaller and smaller. Reluctantly, I stepped back. Obi-Wan’s grasp held on still. I looked up at him, expecting his eyes to be trained on the ship.

But Obi-Wan’s eyes were fixed upon my face, his steeled look enough to make even the proudest bow their head in chagrin. I couldn’t blame him. I stood in this chamber as a direct result of disobeying him.

After a long look, my master mechanically released me and walked to Kin Robb. “How are you, my lady?”

Ignoring Kin Robb’s response, I looked back at the way Dooku’s ship had gone. Kin Robb was still alive and with us, so we’d done what was necessary. But I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that something horrible had just occurred.

“I told you to return here.” Obi-Wan paced between the couch and the window of our suite, his pivots aggressive and his tread heavy. “I gave you an order, and you defied it.” His admonishment was strangely loud compared to his normal low-toned criticism.

“I’m sorry, master,” I said for the third time, hoping to put an end to the frantic pacing. If I could feel his light, I’m sure it would’ve been pulsing like a racing heartbeat, but my master must've still been shielding himself.

How could I be so foolish? It was obvious once Count Dooku said it, but it never even occurred to me that Obi-Wan was concealing himself.

“He could’ve killed you both, he could’ve killed Kin Robb, and then what would have happened to Taris?” Obi-Wan's scowl and raised voice hit me like wafts of bantha dung. It struck me, down to my innermost self. “What if he’d taken you too?” Obi-Wan was saying. “Chobb knows what he might’ve done to you if I hadn’t gotten there in time!”

I blinked, my own mind starting to swivel as quickly and harshly as he was. “But if I hadn’t gone,” I said slowly, “then no one would’ve stopped Dooku from taking her.”

Obi-Wan’s feet halted on the carpet, and my heart rate kicked up into an agitated pace. I couldn’t make myself look up at his face, my own starting to burn.

I’d just questioned him.

Me.

Questioned Obi-Wan.

But even with the desire to sink through the floor, I couldn’t retract the statement, because I wanted to hear the response. None came. Taking a breath, I dared a glance up into my master’s face. I could see the conflict on his face, clear as day, but I couldn’t see which two sides were fighting.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” Obi-Wan said suddenly, turning away from me to resume his trek. “You should’ve done what you were told, that’s what padawans do.”

Padawans.

I lowered my eyes again to the luxuriously plush carpet. “You really don’t think I’m ready.”

My words were soft, and the way his shadow shifted as he turned was anything but. “What?”

My insides swept and roiled with something I couldn’t name, but it brought hot tears to my eyes. I tried to fight them, and, like every fight I’d fought today, I lost.

The alarmed face of Obi-Wan came into my view as he knelt by the couch. “Y/N?” I twisted away from him, not wanting him to see the tears, but he caught my wrists. “What’s wrong?” I wrenched my wrists from his hands, getting to my feet to put him behind me. “Y/N.” Obi-Wan’s stern voice only made the waves inside me swell all the more.

“Why would you tell me to be a healer?!” I cried, spinning to face him.

Obi-Wan jumped a little, looking like he’d been bowled over. “What are you talking about?”

The words were so jumbled up in my mind that I could hardly keep track of them. “You…you keep telling me to be a healer, but you think I’m useless.”

My master rose to his feet. “I never said–”

“But you’re thinking it!” I shouted. Deep down, I knew it was wrong for me to raise my voice at him, but even deeper down, there was something growing, something that would not be contained. “You…you were disappointed in me on Felucia, and then when we got here you wouldn’t let me go to the negotiation, and then when Kin Robb was in trouble, you sent me away!” My breaths were coming in short gasps, and my head spun. I needed Obi-Wan to explain it, to order my thoughts in the way only he could, to make it make sense.

But he didn’t speak, simply stared back at me. What was he not telling me? Why had he sent me away? Why did he continually keep me from doing my job at his side? Why had he cut himself off from the Force, to the point where he couldn’t find Dooku and had to physically pick up his lightsaber in a fight instead of using the Force to bring it to him?

There was only one possible answer to all of those questions.

“You don’t trust me,” I said miserably, my voice wobbling.

“That’s not true,” Obi-Wan said sharply, but what else could it be?

“Can you feel the darkness too?”

Obi-Wan’s wary expression didn’t stir, showing me his infamous control as he spoke with an even voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Dooku said that I have a touch of darkness. He could feel it.”

I could’ve sworn Obi-Wan paled. “You talked to him?”

“He knew that Krell taught me!” I spat. “He could–could sense Krell’s signature in mine!”

The distress on Obi-Wan’s face would’ve been enough to clue me into the gravity he felt, but the sudden devastation I felt through the Force could’ve leveled planets. He lifted shaking hands to his hair, clenching his locks with whitening fists. “Y/N–”

“You’re the one who always tells me that my history with Krell is irrelevant!” I snapped, my voice growing louder by the second. “You tell me that I am pure of heart, but you’ve known all along that I’m not!” My voice broke on the last word.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does! It does to Dooku! It does to the council!”

I paused to suck in a big breath, giving Obi-Wan time to say: “Y/N, you’re ready.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t keep cutting me out!”

“I’m not–”

“Don’t you dare lie to me again.” My breathing was heavy and loud. “You taught me that cutting oneself off from the Force to hide thoughts and feelings was the way of the sith, and yet you’ve been shielding yourself all day!”

An uncharacteristically wild look flashed in Obi-Wan’s eye. “I was trying to protect you!”

“From what, my own incompetence?”

“From Dooku!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, crossing the room in two, urgent strides. His hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me closer. “Dooku trained Qui-Gon Jinn, my master. Dooku sees myself and Anakin as part of his legacy!” Obi-Wan’s chest heaved as he took gulps of air. “I knew that when he met you, he would be able to sense Krell, it’s why I kept you away!”

Obi-Wan would…go against his own teachings to keep me safe?

I tried to think through the magnitude of his actions, but his sharp blue eyes hovering so close to me made it difficult to think. “Maybe that explains your actions here,” I said slowly, “but why were you acting strange on the ship?”

Obi-Wan froze, and I could read guilt all over his face.

“You couldn’t have been angry about my actions in battle,” I realized aloud. “Otherwise…you would have talked to me about it before we went to help the village.” Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide and his grip on my shoulders tightened, begging me not to continue, but I'd listened too long. “It happened in the council meeting, didn’t it? Whatever it was?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and exhaled shakily, like a child scared of the dark, wishing for some light to chase away the shadows on his bedroom wall.

“Tell me the truth,” I said quietly. “You owe me that much.”

When his eyes opened, the deep pain in them was almost enough to dissuade me. But I held his gaze, willing him to talk.

He let go of me, but didn’t step back. “After this negotiation–” Obi-Wan’s words were scratchy, and he cleared his throat. “After the negotiation, the council wishes for me to bring you to Coruscant where you will complete your trials.”

The news which ordinarily would bring me joy made my mind go blank. The council wanted me to complete my trials? To rise from the rank of Padawan to Knight?

This was…huge.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered. “Why did you let me believe I’d done something wrong?”

Obi-Wan rubbed his face. “I never meant to give you cause to doubt yourself, for that I am sincerely sorry.” He looked at me for a long moment, perhaps waiting for an acceptance of his apology, but I couldn’t even form the necessary thoughts. He pursed his lips, his face tight. “As Jedi, our lives are based on change. We carry no possessions with us, we have little control over our whereabouts or activities, and we are charged solely with caring for others.” His eyes flicked to mine, and there was hesitation. “Perhaps…perhaps I wasn’t ready…for this to change.”

“Change?” I echoed. “Why would–”

Oh.

Suddenly, my chest was lit on fire, burning and thrashing in agony. Something must’ve shown on my face, for Obi-Wan nodded sadly. “Once you are no longer a padawan, you no longer have need for a master.”

No, I had every need for my master!

“I…I can’t do this without-without you!” I stammered as my head spun. “I’m not, I’m nowhere near ready!”

Obi-Wan stepped back, and I resisted the strange urge to seize his robes before he could disappear forever. “You can,” he said. “And you are. You actually have been for a while now.”

“But what about my darkness?” I spluttered. “I still have a touch of darkness!”

“A touch of darkness!” Obi-Wan laughed—actually laughed—and shook his head. “You haven’t the faintest idea how remarkable you are.”

“Remarkable?!”

“Yes, remarkable.” Affection punctured the amusement in his eyes. “Y/N, you faced a sith.”

Confusion spun my mind like an antennae in a dust storm. “I did not face a sith, a sith thrashed me and then got away!”

“Not Dooku.” Obi-Wan leaned against the couch, his face growing grim. “Krell.”

My brain seemed to make some sort of perplexed popping noise as it tried to understand his meaning. “I never fought Krell. And even if I had, he would’ve won.”

“You were raised by a sith. Krell spoonfed darkness to you and said it was light.” Obi-Wan pushed off the couch and came closer again, his eyes sweeping the expanse of my face. Was that…wonder on his face? “It should’ve eaten you alive,” he murmured. “It should’ve snuffed out the light without a trace, and instead you beat it back.”

His unbearably warm tone caught me by the throat, barricading it shut.

“You haven’t told me all of what Krell did to you,” Obi-Wan said, and I stared at the floor, unable to look at him. Obi-Wan grasped my chin, lifting it so I was once again trapped under the weight of his inescapable stare. “You told me some things, and Rex told me others, but I know there’s more.”

“Obi…” I pleaded.

“Yet even with what I know, I’m shocked you have enough goodness in you to think of others.”

My eyes burned. “It wasn’t me.”

“It was you.”

“No, I couldn’t have done it without your guidance, your teachings.”

Obi-Wan exhaled in exasperation. “You give yourself so little credit.”

“I thought humility was the mark of a Jedi,” I said weakly.

“The mark of a Jedi healer,” Obi-Wan’s careful words made me brace myself, “is conquering darkness. You can’t conquer darkness if you pretend it isn’t there.” He shook his head. “The code doesn’t say that Jedi must be innocent. Even in a galaxy at peace, it’s impossible to stay innocent for long.” Obi-Wan inclined his head. “Most padawans haven’t faced as much as you, it’s true, but instead of letting your experiences make you weak, you turned them into strength.”

The effects of his words were…indescribable.

They were like wind passing over me, dislodging my hair and making me feel I could fly. Like warm water pouring over me, giving me relief from the cold. Like the forbidden but heavenly taste of chocolate cake I was never supposed to eat.

I cast around for something to say, something else to look at, but Obi-Wan’s gravity made it impossible. I could only see—only feel—him.

His long hair, which never got cut, no matter how many times I offered or how many times he said he meant to do so himself. His beard, excellently framing his mouth whether he smiled or frowned. His eyes, half-closed as they were now, spilling into mine, like the distance between us was irrelevant.

I knew the Force showed him everything. He knew how I felt. I knew that he knew how I felt.

Suddenly, a rush swept through me, warmth nearly twice as large and strong as I'd ever felt. It knocked the breath from my lungs, yet I couldn’t mind, even if I were to drown in it.

Obi-Wan wasn’t shielding himself anymore.

The light that shone was sweeter than the cake he’d let me have. I couldn’t name it or understand it, but I could feel it better than I could see it in his eyes.

And just as unexpectedly, the warmth turned to an aching loss. Obi-Wan’s deep bereavement was mirrored in me, the pain he felt about our parting sharp even though I still stood in front of him.

I felt Obi-Wan’s need to speak before he opened his mouth, but while the Force in between us tensed in preparation for his words, no words came. Obi-Wan licked his lips. “Promise me,” he said finally, “that you’ll request to be a healer.”

The tension remained, as if that wasn’t what words he’d been going to say.

“I don’t think–”

“If not for yourself,” he pleaded, “then for me?”

If this was the final request my master—my good, kind, accomplished master—would make of me, how could I refuse?

“Okay.”

Obi-Wan nodded, his expression one of satisfaction, but his signature one of apprehension. “We are Jedi.” He squared his shoulders. “This is what we are made for.” Made for change? Or for loss? “We should sleep.” Obi-Wan walked towards the door of one of the bedrooms. “Tomorrow, we will escort Kin Robb to Coruscant, and you should be well-rested for..."

For my trials.

We held each other’s gaze for a moment longer, the silence loaded with all the things we couldn’t and didn’t know how to say.

“Goodnight…master.”

The light fluttered for a moment before Obi-Wan replied. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

I shut my door, clutching the door knob tightly.

Obi-Wan was right. Of course he was. Our lives were devoted to the Force. To serve it best, I would eventually have to move on and teach others of it. But if leaving Obi-Wan was a part of my duty, why did it feel like the ground beneath me was disappearing? Why was there a great heaviness inside me, threatening to swallow me whole?

My chest felt like a crumbling bridge, my arms sagged at my sides, and I somehow couldn’t lift my feet from the floor.

I closed my eyes, reaching out for the Force, craving its peace.

As always, it answered, enveloping me like the embrace of a mother and the protection of a father. Bend, the Force whispered to me, don’t break. I leaned into the feeling, allowing the weight in my chest to bend me. I sank to the floor, pulling myself further away from my present and closer into the Force.

And then I felt the light.

Obi-Wan’s light.

It shook violently, like it’d been left out in the cold with no cloak and was desperately trying to hold on.

And then another pull appeared. One far in the distance. A pull made up entirely of shadows. My first instinct was to panic and recoil as fast as possible, even if I ended up recoiling from the Force itself.

But as my master said: one can’t conquer darkness if one pretends it isn’t there. If I wanted to be a healer, it was time to recognize the darkness. Recognize and prepare. I can feel you, I said to the pull. And next time we meet, I may not be with my master, but I will certainly be ready.

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sarasapen · 2 years

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Next To You

AN: When I first posted Little One, I had absolutely no intention to continue writing or creating a series out of it. That being said, here is the first official Plot Heavy fic, set before the events of the very first Little One post. And yes, there will be more :)

Warnings: Clone Wars mentions, getting close to some ROTS plot points, it’s more angst-heavy than anything else, so proceed with caution, this does not need to be read to understand the other parts of the Little One series!

Summary: Shortly after her trials, Obi-Wan comes to a rather horrible realisation regarding his Padawan. Well... former Padawan, now.

Word count: 9.9k

I really liked the song ‘Next To You’ by SYML when writing this.

.. .-..---...-.-.-----..-

They were seated on the new sofas in Obi-Wan’s new, private apartment, an hour to sundown. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it just yet, not that he’d ever voice out his complaints if he had any. The apartment itself was actually quite lovely, roomy enough that he could have his bookshelves and still have enough space to entertain company, but it was… empty.

The shelves no longer displayed forgotten earring studs or stray hair ties in front of half-read books placed askew atop his meticulously organised rows. The coffee table in front of him didn’t have your favourite cup two inches away from its coaster. The rug wasn’t bent just slightly upwards from where you would wiggle your toes under. The sofa hadn’t been shifted from where you’d always bump into the armrest, and then apologise with a pat but never straighten.

But here they were, seated on the new sofas in Obi-Wan’s new, private apartment. An invitation to try some new tea that Padmé had sent him had gone answered by Anakin and declined by you. You were “not feeling very well”. You apparently hadn’t been feeling well for the past two weeks.

“Perhaps she’s finally gotten sick of you,” Anakin teases, but all traces of humour disappear from his face when Obi-Wan doesn’t even offer a raised brow in return, let alone anything lighthearted.

“It- that was a joke,” The younger of the two clarifies, wanting to make it known that he in no way meant his previous words.

“And yet there might be some truth in it,” Obi-Wan responds quietly, eyes trained on the drab landscape outside the window. It cuts him, and cuts him deep to think even for a fleeting moment that you might no longer enjoy his company.

“She has been rather…quiet, lately. Withdrawn,” Obi-Wan continues steadily, although he feels anything but confident in that moment. “She can barely look me in the eye when we talk, and that’s only if I manage to catch her before she runs away.”

“She has been shielding herself in the Force a lot, now that you mention it,” Anakin supplies, brows furrowing together. How easily changeable, his demeanour was, when it came down to someone he loved. “You always said that she hated doing it.”

“She did,” Obi-Wan confirms. You did. You felt as though your energy was confined into a tiny little box, and doing it too much or too often was a cause of major annoyance and irritation for you. It was the driving factor behind you learning to regulate your feelings remarkably well, so that you didn’t have to hide them. It worried Obi-Wan to no end that perhaps you were going through something that had you not even wanting to risk a slight exposure of your true emotions.

Obi-Wan lifts his cup to his lips. It’s good tea, this new flavour, he thinks distantly you would’ve liked this one, probably a lot, and he would have readily given you the entire box of teabags if you had shown up.

“Have you tried talking to her?” Anakin probes, but immediately shuts down at the look his former Master gives him. Of course he had tried talking to you, Obi-Wan wouldn’t be here, talking about this to him in extreme confidence, unless he had exhausted all other routes that he could’ve thought of himself.

“Every time I ask, she insists that she’s perfectly fine.”

“With that reassuring smile of hers,” Anakin murmurs knowingly.

“With that damned smile of hers,” Obi-Wan responds, downing half of his tea in one go.

“You remember what I was like after my trials,” Anakin continues, lifting a shoulder. Obi-Wan did remember. It was a common enough experience amongst newly knighted Jedi, the sense of confusion and loneliness. To help with the disorientation, the Order usually sent the newly knighted Jedi on a mission, a simple one, but enough to give them a little ego boost and get them properly on their feet.

That’s what they did with you; immediately after your trials you were sent on a diplomatic mission to Corellia. The details of the mission Obi-Wan had not been privy to- not for its confidential nature, but rather for it being so miniscule that the majority of the Council weren’t aware of the finer details either. After all, Jedi Masters could hardly concern themselves with learning the ins and outs of everything that passed through the doors of the Temple; they’d never get any work done otherwise. Regardless, Obi-Wan had been- perhaps foolishly, he thinks to himself- expecting you to tell him all about it. He has enough fingers and some to spare if he counted the number of words you had spoken to him since then.

“Or maybe Dooku said something that got her a little shaken up.”

What.

Flashes of an old mentor and trusted friend. Flashes of a previous conversation; one that had cemented Dooku’s position as a Sith. Flashes of betrayal, a proposal that stood against so much of what Obi-Wan stood for.

“Dooku?” Obi-Wan responds slowly, turning his gaze back onto his former Padawan. “What do you mean, Dooku?”

Anakin falters then, there’s a brief moment of uncertainty that taints his signature, but he’s quick enough to put his shield up that if it was anyone but Obi-Wan, they probably wouldn’t have recognised it. In any other situation, Obi-Wan would have even felt a little pride at how well Anakin did. But you wouldn’t have done it like that.

“Dooku was on Corellia the same time she was. She said she saw him, but didn’t say anything else.” Silence. And then, “I thought she would’ve mentioned it to you.”

“She didn’t,” Obi-Wan confirms, trying not to get irrationally jealous and hurt that you talked to Anakin about the mission and not him.

“She probably didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Anakin tries to soothe. Obi-Wan appreciates him for it, for his attempts to make the situation appear better than it was. Because after all, it had just happened once, right?

Nevermind that Dooku was, well, Dooku. And no matter that any involvement with a former high-ranking member of the Jedi Order, now turned Sith, would be a detail that any Jedi would deem worthy enough of a mention to the Council. Oh, and disregarding the fact that Dooku had ties to you, through Obi-Wan, as Obi-Wan had ties to Yoda through Qui-Gon and Dooku. It was, admittedly, a bit of a stretch. After all, it wasn’t as though Obi-Wan and Master Yoda were particularly friendly. Although perhaps it wasn’t the best comparison; Obi-Wan respected Master Yoda immensely, and looked up to him as a mentor and a leader, as most of the Order did. You and Dooku, on the other hand… why, you had met on no more than a few occasions, none of them long enough to form what Obi-Wan would consider to be a concerning bond of any kind.

Oh, where was his head? He was overthinking it. So you met Dooku once when Obi-Wan hadn’t been there. You were a capable adult; young, yes, but a Knight now. And once is just chance.

.. .-..---...-.-.-----..-

There are murmurs.

Obi-Wan hates murmurs. Well, hate is a strong word. He dislikes them very strongly. He… he prefers if murmurs didn’t occur in the Temple. Yes- that’s it.

Murmurs are a waste of time, in Obi-Wan’s opinion. And more often than not they were so very far from the truth. Small talk and stupid conversations about nothing were completely fine and normal, in Obi-Wan’s opinion, but oh, did he so dislike gossip.

These murmurs however are worse than any he has had the absolute displeasure of being privy to. There are murmurs, murmurs of a known Sith Lord being on a planet at the same time as a newly-anointed Jedi Knight, and said Knight had not reported this to the Council. Once is just chance, Obi-Wan tells himself.

Then he’s sitting at the Council and you’re standing in the middle of the floor, features a perfect mix of absolute coolness and polite respect. If he weren’t so worried for you, Obi-Wan would’ve been proud of how well you were doing. You don’t glance his way, not even once.

“On Corellia, Count Dooku was, at the same time as you, hm?”

“He was.”

“With your own eyes, see him, you did?”

“Yes, Master Yoda.”

“You didn’t think it was worth reporting to the Council?” Obi-Wan finds himself stepping in. He burns his gaze into your eyes, getting more antsy by the second. The words to report to me left hanging in the air, unsaid, but understood by the both of you perfectly.

You turn to face him, and to anyone else it would appear that you meet his gaze. But it’s clear to Obi-Wan that you’ve focused on a spot on the wall behind him- You don’t look at him.

“I exercised my judgement, Master, and came to the fairly reasonable conclusion that Dooku buying a crate of Corellian wine was hardly anything to concern the council over.”

“Agree with young Knight, I do,” Master Yoda chimes cheekily. “An advantage to us would be, Dooku getting drunk.”

There are a few chuckles. Windu cracks a smile. You manage a shyly polite one.

But again, you don’t raise your eyes to Obi-Wan’s. Why?

Once is chance, he tells himself.

That’s all. Mere chance.

“Aware, were you, of Dooku’s presence on Corellia last week?”

Hold on.

“I did not run into Dooku on Corellia last week, no.”

Hold on.

“The Count did not try to contact you?”

No, stop, hold on just a sec-

“No, Master. He didn’t initiate anything.”

Obi-Wan feels his mouth getting dry, his stomach turning uneasily as he scrutinises the features of his Padawan- his former Padawan’s face. You were on Corellia again? And Dooku was there, again?

He is forced to bury his train of thought when you’re dismissed, leaving the Council to deal with far more important matters. You leave with a polite bow and without so much as a single glance his way.

Once is chance, twice is coincidence.

That’s all it was. Coincidence.

After all, why would Dooku have any interest in you?

Why, indeed.

.. .-..---...-.-.-----..-

When he finally does manage to talk to you, Obi-Wan’s done something that he’s debated long and hard over.

Showing up at your door uninvited was possibly one of the rudest things Obi-Wan could have done, one of the most inconsiderate of your feelings- save, perhaps, yelling your name across the Temple loud enough so that everyone would hear, and you’d be forced to confront him. The first option, of course, saved you from any public mortification, and ensured you were in what Obi-Wan hoped would be a safe space for you.

For an added you can’t be mad at me factor, Obi-Wan made sure to, one, not arrive too early lest he wake you up, because Maker knows he would be embarking on an already doomed mission. And two, who could say no to a box of their favourite biscuits in the morning?

When you open your door, it takes everything for Obi-Wan’s polite smile not to slip completely off his face.

You look- not that he’d ever say this to you, of course- like shit. You look pale and there are ghastly circles under your eyes, and speaking of your eyes, they’re lifeless and unseeing, and the only emotion Obi-Wan detects in them is the brief spout of panic when you register who he is.

“M-Master,” You greet, bowing politely.

“Knight,” Obi-Wan greets, hoping to convey a sense of playful teasing in the title. It strikes him even deeper just then that he won’t ever call you Padawan again.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” You murmur, running a hand nervously through your hair to try to pat it into submission.

“I suppose that’s what provides the surprise element of surprise visits,” Obi-Wan continues smoothly, acting oblivious to your obviously uncomfortable state. Acting oblivious also helps ignore the nagging thought at the back of his mind that screams out to discover just what has happened that you’re in so much discomfort around him.

There’s a pause as you try to figure out what to say to him. You don’t want to invite him in, clearly, but it’s not like you can turn him away either.

“I brought a housewarming gift,” Holding up the box of biscuits, he gives you another smile, pretty much making your decision for you.

“Thank you. Do you- do you want to come in?” You open your door wider, and he sees you jerk your wrist slightly in what he assumes is an attempt to hide whatever mess you could. “I apologise for the mess.”

“Nonsense,” Obi-Wan tuts good-naturedly. “You act as though we have not spent over a decade in the same living space.”

You flush a little at that out of sheepish embarrassment, letting Obi-Wan glide past you into your apartment. It’s a little more bare than his, there’s still a box of old reports that Madame Jocasta made copies of for you once you checked a copy out more than twice. (It started after you had checked out the same report for the seventh time in half a year. Not that it stopped you from visiting the library every other day, but Madame Jocasta was always more than eager to aid with whatever old journals you were pouring through. She seemed to have a soft spot for you, and Obi-Wan knew better than to complain that his padawan spent most of her hours in the library.)

There’s a few bits and bobs here and there, yet Obi-Wan would be lying if he said the apartment resembled anything homey. The room didn’t look lived in, just occupied, as if you hadn’t spent any time making it a place you’d like to stay in. It was as though the very walls of the room not only reflected but amplified your blatant discomfort.

“Tea?” You offer weakly, gesturing for him to take a seat on the nice little settee that is so completely unlike you.

“Tea would be lovely,” Obi-Wan smiles, sitting down and trying to look around in a pleasantly curious sort of way, so that you didn’t think he was watching you. Because he wasn’t. Watching you.

A moment later, you’re setting down a tray of tea, along with a mound of sugar in a little bowl that Obi-Wan knows you won’t touch. If you wanted to add sugar, you would have done so before sitting in front of him. You never liked stirring the contents of your cup in another’s company, you got weird over the possibility of the spoon hitting the sides of the cup and making noise. It’s one of the seemingly insignificant details Obi-Wan just knows about you, the knowledge engraved into his very soul.

Obi-Wan opens the box of biscuits and sets it enticingly on the middle of the coffee table while you pour the tea, and when his eyes meet yours, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite so out of place before. He takes the saucer and cup handed to him, and he pretends to be busy with blowing over the surface to cool the tea down a little. It’s only as he raises the cup to his lips does Obi-Wan remember that he hadn’t added any sugar, and to do so now would be incredibly awkward. It doesn’t help that you’re watching him through your eyelashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

“It’s perfect,” He lies, taking another sip so as to drive his point home. You place your own cup back on its saucer, legs tucked primly beneath yourself. “You don’t have any pressing issues to attend to, today, do you?”

“No, no, I… I’m free today,” You murmur, keeping your eyes on your cup.

“Good, good,” Obi-Wan cringes at how stilted he sounds, and tries shooting you another warm smile that you do not see. There’s a pause as he flickers his gaze between his tea and the sugar.

“How are you?” It hadn’t meant to come out as heavily and full of concern as it did, but Obi-Wan supposes there’s hardly any need to conceal his worry now that it’s out in the open. You glance up, eyes wide for a split second as if you hadn’t been expecting that question.

“I’m alright.” Liar.

“That’s good to hear.” You had never been able to lie to him, he thinks.

“How were your missions to Corellia?” Obi-Wan continues casually. He leans forward and picks up the box of biscuits, holding it out for you to take one. He then sets it back down and takes one for himself, trying desperately not to show how calculated each of his movements were.

“It was a courtesy call. To represent the Council’s goodwill,” You raise your eyes to his and shrug a shoulder, tired smile on your lips. “Nothing terribly exciting.”

“No?” Obi-Wan murmurs, sensing a good segue into a little teasing that would, hopefully, ease your clear anxiety over the topic. “Was the Senator’s son not there? The one with the crush on you?”

You fumble with your biscuit a little out of embarrassment, shooting him a look of desperate annoyance. He raises his eyebrows and takes a sip of his bitter tea, waving his hand as if to tell you to go on.

“No,” You respond pointedly, rolling your eyes and muttering a quiet “Thank the Force,” under your breath.

“Is Corellian not your type?” Obi-Wan continues, beginning to make himself amused as well.

“Hilarious,” Pointing your biscuit at him, you narrow your eyes. “You should become a comedian.”

“And have the Coruscanti crowd as an audience? I’d make no profit. Besides, those in the Temple boast far better company.”

Then he sees it. Something he said, he isn’t sure what, but something suddenly changed your mood; your smile completely drops off your face and you’re sitting stiffly yet again. He had meant that last line as a compliment to you but you’re scarcely daring to breathe, and Obi-Wan hastily backpedals his thoughts to comb through what he had said.

What did he say? What did he say?

It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t have the time to sit there and stare dumbly at you, he must press on. He’s tried beating around the bush, now he supposes he might as well just get on with it.

“So Count Dooku enjoys Corellian wine, hm?”

He tries to sound off-hand.

He sees from the way your face falls even more and your shoulders slump in utter exhaustion that you know it’s anything but.

“Is this an interrogation?” You ask tiredly, setting your saucer down on the table. Your gaze finally returns to him, and Obi-Wan feels duly chastised by the look in your eyes alone.

“Not at all,” Obi-Wan hastily tries to make assurances. “I’m simply inquiring about the unique nature of your mission-“

“Well then, let me satisfy your inquiries,” You cut him off, standing as your voice turns cold.

“I was sent to Corellia two and a half weeks ago on a courtesy call as a representative of the Jedi Order and by extension, the Galactic Republic,” You pick up the tray of tea, pointedly returning it back to the island next to the sink of your kitchen. “The journey lasted half a day, and when I arrived, I was greeted by Senator Dulani. From there, I was escorted to the Great Hall of Corellia.”

“Knight-“

“You needn’t worry, Master, I haven’t quite finished with my report.” You say as you empty the contents of the teapot into the sink. Obi-Wan sets his own cup down and stands, his own patience wearing thin not out of anger, but for fear. “There was a dinner, and later a meeting, with Senator Dulani and other members of the Corellian senate present. The minutes of the meeting were recorded and I have a copy that was submitted to the Council upon my first report, if you’d like to look through it.”

Obi-Wan calls your name as he makes his way towards you, desperate now in his desire to beg for your forgiveness, to drop down onto his knees and plead for you to pardon whatever wrong he had committed that had been pushing you so far away from him.

“It was after that meeting that Senator Dulani invited me to a little festival that was occurring in the main city. We only went for a few hours- that too, is in the report, for your reference- where we stumbled into Count Dooku-“

“Stop.” Obi-Wan grips you by the elbow and turns you around to face him, leaving you trapped between him and the counter. You glare up at him, tears beginning to prick behind your eyes as he raises a hand up to touch your cheek. The violence at which you flinch away from his touch certainly does not go unnoticed by him.

Obi-Wan blinks.

“-He was, as I had mentioned in the council meeting, buying wine,” You grit out, trying to ignore the way tears were no longer gathering in your eyes, but falling freely.

“Little one-“ Obi-Wan whispers softly, eyebrows drawing together as his gaze flits all over your face.

“Did I answer your inquiries, or do you have any more?” You snap, pulling your arm out of his grasp and pressing back against the counter as if to get away from him.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, trying once again to anchor you back with his hands resting on your arms. “What’s gotten you so upset?”

It backfires spectacularly, resulting in you altogether sidestepping him and retreating away.

“It seems that I have a previous engagement that I had overlooked,” With your back to him, you seem to take a moment to calm yourself before meeting his gaze headon. “Thank you for your company, Master Kenobi. I’m sure you have more important things to attend to.”

A precisely diplomatic way of telling him to fuck off, if he’s ever heard one.

And, oh, Obi-Wan doesn’t want to leave, he truly doesn’t, but what else can he say to you? How much more can he encroach into your personal space, how much more can he force you to have this conversation with him, when he doesn’t know what to ask and you refuse to give him any leads?

It was his nature to fight, he was a blue saber. It came so easily to him, no matter how he suppressed it. And he would continue to fight for you, Obi-Wan decided resolutely. But not here, not now; not when he needed to show you that he respected your wishes-regardless of whatever they may be.

You asked him to leave.

So he left.

.. .-..---...-.-.-----..-

It’s remarkably strange how time passes. Swamped with missions and treaties and Council duties, a month passes before Obi-Wan has a chance to breathe again. His tin of Naboo tea has barely been touched; the most obvious indicator of how much of his wakefulness he spent in his quarters.

Obi-Wan is extremely guilty to admit that, between being bombarded with an ever-growing workload, he hardly had the time to spare you much thought. Out of sight out of mind, perhaps.

That doesn’t explain the restlessness in his bones, however.

He misses you.

It’s been just about two full moon cycles since he’s had a proper conversation with you, and the silence of his apartment is more than Obi-Wan can bear. Perhaps his busy schedule served as a distraction, to give you both time before you faced each other again.

Or maybe…

There’s a nagging voice at the back of his head. You and your Padawan are close, Master Kenobi. Your time under his tutelage had come to an end. You had no obligations towards him now. He had no right to ask you to be more than coworkers. The desire to keep you close- all it was was a desire.

One he should do away with.

As if the Force understood, his comm buzzed with a new mission report. Obi-Wan takes a glance at it and grimaces, pouring his far-too-hot-to-drink tea down the sink. Now he supposed he could claim he had begun to make a dent in the tea tin.

But as Obi-Wan’s eyes roved over the multitude of words, he recalled his previous praise of the Force’s all-knowingness. It seemed that he would be spending the next two weeks- at the least- with you by his side. More accurately, he would be at your side as you acted as a mediator for trade alliance discussions in both Mandalore and Corellia.

The travelling itself would take two weeks, and knowing the characters of the courts in question led Obi-Wan to suspect that these discussions would not be easily won; a safe bet would be an additional week or two.

And although a month by your side was all that he had been dreaming of since you had parted ways, now with his prize in front of him, Obi-Wan is filled with an overwhelming feeling of dread.

What was he supposed to do?

Was he supposed to bring up your previous conversation? Was he, as a Master with a place in the Council, supposed to chastise your lapse into overwhelming emotion, despite him being the one that pushed you to that point? Or was he supposed to remain silent, let you deal with your own problems now that you were no longer his Padawan? No longer his responsibility, no longer his-

You do not greet him at the docking pad when he approaches. If not for the way your shoulders tensed, Obi-Wan might have thought you oblivious to his presence. He greets you, determined to put an end to the silence. He tries for small talk, but all he gets is clipped, detached answers. He hopes, perhaps foolishly, that being in the same ship would force some sort of conversation.

You seem equally moved to avoid him as he is in trying to speak to you.

The second you step onto Mandalorian soil, it is as though a flip has switched. You greet the Duchess with all the charm and grace anyone could ask for, knowing precisely what to say and when to say it. It is no wonder the Duchess barely spared Obi-Wan a second glance, as enthralled as they all were by you. Not that he would have noticed, with the way he refuses to let you out of his gaze.

You handle the first round of discussions beautifully, and Obi-Wan scarcely needs to speak unless he was specifically called upon by a senator.

“I have to say,” Satine murmurs to him on the way out of the meeting room that evening. “Your former Padawan is certainly doing your Order justice. You should be proud.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan replies immediately, earnestly, gaze shifting to the side to seek you out, missing the knowing look Satine gives him.

“You won’t mind if I steal her away from you for dinner, would you?” She hums, pausing the conversation to exchange pleasantries with Senator Dulani. “I’ve grown rather tired of the opinions of those in this court. Perhaps she would provide some fresh perspective.”

Immediately Obi-Wan’s heart sinks, and it’s just then that he realises that he had been counting on being placed next to you during the meal. Satine notices, of course she does, damn her, and laughs.

“Master Kenobi, you needn’t pout,” She moves away with the hint of a smile still lingering on her face, hand ghosting over your arm as she leads you back to where Obi-Wan was standing.

“We were just speaking about you, my dear,” Satine is telling you, and you respond with a quiet “Oh?”

“All good things,” Satine reassures you, placing her arm delicately in the crook of Obi-Wan’s elbow, now steering you both towards the dining hall.

“I had wanted your opinion on the recent compulsory military act that was passed on Bar’leth.”

“The Jedi refrain from having political opinions, Your Grace,” You respond automatically, and the corners of Obi-Wan’s lips quirk up.

“Humour me,” Satine flicks her hand almost dismissively at Obi-Wan, gesturing to his seat beside yours. He rolls his eyes, moving to first pull out her seat and then yours.

“I…” You glance at Obi-Wan, immediately looking away as you struggle to decide on an answer.

And despite it all, despite every word of your argument? if he could even call it that- being engraved into his mind, despite the way you were trying desperately to avoid his gaze, despite the score of other people seated around you, Obi-Wan shifts his hand out to hold yours under the table.

The result is instantaneous, the way the tension all but disappears from your shoulders as he gently flips your hand palm side up so that he could interlock his fingers with yours. And you’re letting him, stars above despite it all, you’re letting him rub little circles into your skin as he holds your hand firmly.

“I think it is a necessity,” You finally settle on, exhaling slowly when Obi-Wan squeezes your hand.

“They claim to be a peaceful planet,” the Duchess continues.

“One cannot claim to be peaceful unless they are capable of great violence,” You refute, surprising not only Obi-Wan and the Duchess but yourself as well.

“No?”

“No. Otherwise they would just be harmless.”

“Strength invites challenge, does it not?” The Duchess muses, taking a sip from her drink.

“Certainly. But without strength, Bar’leth would not even be a civilization we could discuss, Your Grace.”

“Hm,” Satine responds, glancing at Obi-Wan. “So you think violence is necessary for civilizations to thrive?”

“I think it is an unsavoury reality of the galaxy we live in,” You respond, choosing your words carefully.

And if the Duchess had a response to that, Obi-Wan did not hear it, for he was too busy re-memorising the lines on the palm of your hand. A clever move on his part, for moments later the entrées were served, and both of you had to abandon the other’s hand in favour of salad forks.

Dinner with the senate of Mandalore was, well, dinner. And with each second dragging on longer than the last, Obi-Wan isn’t quite sure how to describe the relief he feels when Satine drains the last of her wine, setting the glass down with a clink that rings with finality.

Obi-Wan offers you his hand, and you take it, allowing him to guide you out of the hall. When the doors shut behind you, the silence of the halls of the Sundari Palace overwhelm you. Hesitating, Obi-Wan tucks your hand into the crook of his arm, taking a tentative step and bracing himself for the inevitable feeling of you pulling your hand away.

But it doesn’t come, and Obi-Wan takes a second step, and then a third, and then you’ve both walked the length of the hallway before Obi-Wan dares to breathe again. He walks you to your room, pausing outside your door to brush a stray strand of hair away from your bright eyes. A beat of silence passes between the two of you, and all Obi-Wan can do is look at you.

And then you drop your gaze and murmur a quiet goodnight, then Obi-Wan is left looking at the door.

So that’s how you spend the next few days.

With no words passed between the two of you save for the basest necessities, with hands seeking each other out under dining tables, with silent walks back to your room filled with nothing more than an aching want.

“I’ll always be here,” Obi-Wan says on the fourth night, finding himself overcome with startling desperation. Your door is nearly fully closed when you pause, only your hand visible from where it’s closed around the edge.

“Should you ever need me, for anything,” Obi-Wan continues, taking this opportunity and sprinting with it, not knowing when he’d get a chance like this again. “If it’s aid with a mission, or should you need a confidante- stars, even if all you need is a tin of biscuits…”

Taking a slow breath, Obi-Wan reaches his hand out and rests it above yours on the doorway. He isn’t prepared for the way your hand flinches away from him, and the door is gently shut (to avoid injuring him).

“Nothing has changed,” Obi-Wan rests his forehead against the cool wood of the door, voice a mere whisper. “Nothing has to change.”

And perhaps, if he hadn’t been so caught up in his quiet repetitions of “I’m right here,” then maybe, just maybe, he would’ve realised that you too were leaning against the door, ear pressed to the wood, listening to every one of his whispers.

Right there beside him.

.. .-..---...-.-.-----..-

It starts off, as most things do, seemingly innocent.

The message from you to an unknown recipient,

I want to meet you.

Of course you do,-

And Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow at the use of your name, your first name, a sure sign of intimacy if nothing else. He can count on one hand the number of people that call you by your first name.

A lover, perhaps?

No, no, surely not… but perhaps?

But he shouldn’t… he shouldn’t betray your trust by reading the messages on your tablet, lover or not. And then he sees his name.

I take it Obi-Wan is still in the dark?

In the dark? In the dark about what?

That should be of no concern to you, is your next response, and Obi-Wan swallows.

I apologise, my dear.

My dear? My dear? Obi-Wan places the tablet on the armrest beside him lest he snaps it in half.

And a message unread by you from your mystery penpal follows the apology, with a date, time, and place on Corellia.

Obi-Wan doesn’t think twice about deleting that particular message, and tries to bury the rising guilt he feels the next time he sees your face.

.. .-..---...-.-.-----..-

There’s absolutely no reason whatsoever that Obi-Wan insists on departing for Corellia a day before you, leaving you to “Wrap things up” in Mandalore. He pretends to ignore the look you give him, what with half the Mandalorian representatives already en route to Corellia, but you do not argue.

There is simply no need for it, the discussions are not scheduled to take place for a while yet, and as far as you’re concerned, you have nowhere else to be.

You’re certainly not going to be meeting your possible lover-

Alright, perhaps there was a reason Obi-Wan had insisted on departing first. One could hardly fault him for wanting to ensure that whomever you were dallying with kept your honour in mind. Not that Obi-Wan wished to imagine you having…dalliances with anyone, but he would protect you, from scandal, heartbreak, or otherwise.

Besides, this lover of yours could hardly be suitable to hold your affections, with how little they seemed to care about the lack of your response to their proposition.

Obi-Wan arrives on Corellia precisely four hours before the supposed meeting time, and after two hours spent exchanging pleasantries with the Corellian dignitaries, followed by a rather long “quick” tour of the grounds he would be residing in, Obi-Wan gets in a shuttle and makes his way into the very heart of the city.

It is only when he is standing in front of the supposed attraction that you were meant to have your rendezvous does Obi-Wan revise his previous statement about how this lover of yours did not seem to be suitable. No, standing in front of a large… wheel, of some sort, (a new attraction, as he is told by the man at the counter), attached to glass compartments, Obi-Wan comes to the conclusion that your beau is an absolute madman.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan steels himself before stepping into one of the compartments, trying not to be taken aback by the realisation that the wheel was in fact turning, albeit slowly. He is drawn away from his thoughts rather abruptly, however, when he hears the sound of someone stepping in, followed immediately by the closing of the compartment door.

“Oh.” Comes the voice, disappointment evident. Obi-Wan closes his eyes and tries not to shatter his teeth with how hard they’re clenched. “Kenobi.”

“Dooku.”

Welllllll. Didn’t Obi-Wan feel rather silly.

“Your former Padawan did not join you?”

“No.”

“What a shame.”

The ground slowly but surely inches away, and Obi-Wan comes to another horrible realisation of the fact that he was now confined in this space with Dooku.

It was fine. This was fine. He was fine.

All Obi-Wan had to do was take some deep, calming breaths, enjoy the cool air around him, and remain calm. He’d be fine. He had no need to interact with Dooku at all. He was fine.

“How is she?” Dooku breaks the silence as soon as Obi-Wan finishes his pep talk. The timing of it is wildly inconvenient, or, on the flip side of the coin, perfectly timed; as if Dooku knew precisely when to strike. Obi-Wan turns his head to stare blankly at the man. There’s a beat of silence before Dooku clarifies the subject of the conversation. “My great-grandpadawan.”

“Don’t you speak of her,” Obi-Wan snaps before he can help himself, repulsed by the familiar term Dooku used, and he turns his gaze away to try to hide the little shame in failing to keep his cool. Dooku raises an eyebrow.

“Touched a nerve, have I? I had thought there was something off with her when we met here the first time, and the second time too, but it had been a while since our last reunion, so I wasn’t sure. Thank you, for the confirmation.”

Alarm bells are ringing in Obi-Wan’s head, loud and obnoxious and glaring. Dooku had noticed something off about you before Obi-Wan had- and the second time too- Dooku wanted to know about you, for possibly nefarious reasons that were currently unknown- and the second time too- Dooku had been disappointed that it was Obi-Wan, instead of you- and the second time too- Obi-Wan swallows and avoids the elder man’s gaze. Thrice is a pattern.

“Don’t pretend you care about her well-being.”

“She holds a lot of promise,” Rebuts Dooku sagely, almost as if he’s the one offended that Obi-Wan holds such an impression of him. “It’s a shame the Jedi Order seems to be so keen in disappointing her so. A shared trait amongst our line, although you seem to be the exception.”

“I beg your pardon?” Snapping his head to the once so revered man, Obi-Wan tries to send a wave of calm over the rapidly spiking rage bubbling up inside him. It’s ugly and hot and red, but Obi-Wan is more preoccupied with refuting Dooku than keeping his cool.

“My late Padawan disagreed with the Council on many things,” Dooku continues, watching Obi-Wan critically. Obi-Wan feels a sudden familiarity of being a youngling in his crèche, scrutinised by Masters as he performs the task set out in front of him. A circus monkey, Obi-Wan thinks. He’s toyed with her and now he’s making me his little circus monkey. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t stop himself-

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

“Yes, you would be,” Dooku continues pleasantly, and Obi-Wan realises he just aced the test he was trying to fail.

“Your first Padawan does too. Although your second Padawan seems to be a lot more open to considering…” Dooku drags the word out, his hand almost daintily flicking off a piece of lint on his sleeve before he leans back against the wall with an overwhelming amount of elegance that few others could match. “Other options.”

“And by that I presume you mean the Dark Side?” Obi-Wan scoffs, now half-amused. He imagines you wearing all black, eyes golden and a red saber in your hand. It’s ridiculous. He almost snorts. Entertainment, indeed.

“Things aren't simply Black or White, Kenobi,” Dooku snaps, having finally grown tired of Obi-Wan’s resistance to his ploy. “For someone with a reputation of being so quick-witted, you really can be quite daft at times.”

“My former Padawan would never consider joining the Sith,” Obi-Wan responds coolly, reassured by the confidence of the sheer depth at which he knew your character- something Dooku could and would never match.

And just like that, there’s a sudden twist in the air as Dooku smiles slowly. Obi-Wan regards him carefully, watching the look of ah, finally, flit across Dooku’s face, and Obi-Wan’s heart drops into his stomach. He hates that this was what Dooku had been baiting him into saying.

Later on, much later on, Obi-Wan would reach the conclusion that Dooku had manipulated the entire conversation, that regardless of whatever Obi-Wan was trying to say or do, it would get twisted and bent to fit Dooku’s agenda. He would recognise it as such because it was a tactic he himself had used countless other times; there was a reason he was considered a great Negotiator. In other words, Obi-Wan was very nearly bested in a game he so often played himself.

“No, she would not.” Dooku agrees with such a startling belief and conviction, as if he knew you, that it makes Obi-Wan a little sick to his stomach. “Leaving the Order however, is very much on her mind.”

“She has never once considered disobeying the Order,” Obi-Wan gets onto his feet, turning his back to Dooku to try to put some distance, any distance between them.

“You really don’t know her at all, do you?” Dooku hums, half amused, half exasperated.

“I have known her for years.”

“And yet you’re utterly blind to the most obvious things about her,” Dooku tuts. He looks disapprovingly at Obi-Wan, annoyed that he has to spell it out. “She won’t disobey the Order, no. But she would leave it. I thought that you of all people would know that she doesn’t follow things she doesn’t believe in.”

Dooku is right. Obi-Wan knows he is. And yet-

“You stand there and claim to know more of my former Padawan- the child that I selected and raised, the Padawan that I spent years traversing within the confines of her mind, the Padawan I know more intimately than any other being- you, who have barely crossed paths with her a mere three times, you claim to know her better than I?”

“Intimately.” Dooku repeats, eyes narrowing and mouth curling into something sinisterly amused. “I must say, it's an interesting word choice. Yes, please, do go on, tell me how intimately you know this girl of yours.”

“Quit being foul, Dooku,” Obi-Wan snaps, glaring at the smirking man.

“Oh, but you understood what I implied, Master Kenobi. Surely you don’t think of her as your beloved Padawan anymore? What’s the endearment you use? Ah yes, little one-“

“Enough with your games-“

“Tell me, grandpadawan of mine, now that she’s grown, do you not imagine what’s been hiding under those robes all this time?” Dooku’s eyes drift over him, as if his next words were a simple throw away. “Or, well, not all this time.”

And damn that last statement.

Rubbing salt into hidden wounds was something Dooku was surprisingly good at. He always managed to know exactly which of Obi-Wan’s buttons to push.

Not all this time.

As if Obi-Wan needed another disgusting reminder of how horrific his affections towards you were. Because it couldn’t have been enough that he fell head over heels for a girl that he simply just couldn’t love, or that she’d never return his affections. No, he had to love a girl practically half his age, a girl he knew when she was all but a child and a girl he had a hand in raising. A girl he was supposed to protect from vile creatures that dared to look at her in the way he did and yet he-

“Believe it or not, Kenobi, I’m not here to discuss the spectacular display of failure that is your pitiful love life. I’m saying this to help.”

“Are you?” Obi-Wan snaps, trying to swallow the bile rising in his throat. Dooku levels him with not quite a glare, it’s much too dignified. He has a way of glaring at you without moving a muscle on his face, Qui-Gon had quipped once, years ago now.

“Kenobi, if I wanted the girl to leave the Order, why would I be telling you her plans?” Dooku extends his arm as if to illustrate his point, fingers unfurling leisurely. “No, her place is to remain put.”

“To remain in the Order?”

“…If that’s how you choose to see it.” Dooku lifts a shoulder. “A more accurate phrasing would be to remain close to you. It would allow her to stay close to your other Padawan. The pair of them are two halves of a whole. They will be the catalyst that ends it all. Yet another thing I’m surprised you can’t see.”

“They work well together.” Obi-Wan grits out. You don’t know, he wants to scream. You don’t know, he wanted to yell at the man he once respected- still respected. His Master’s Master, an old friend and confidant, someone Obi-Wan once cared for.

You don’t know the sheer violence it took for them to become this gentle.

“You hold judgement against me,” Dooku says, settling back against his corner of the compartment. Obi-Wan inhales slowly, exhaling with great measure as he shuts his eyes. In, out. In, out. In-

“I taught him that,” Dooku speaks again, quieter now. Obi-Wan does not need to ask him to clarify what he means. He taught Qui-Gon this particular way of meditation; what is dubbed ‘battle meditation’ in highly stressful situations. Qui-Gon, obviously, taught him. Just as he taught Anakin, and you.

“There is a war brewing, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan gives no response, settling for keeping his eyes closed and letting the seconds tick by. It is not so soon after that the movements of the compartment shift slightly, and it begins its descent, lowering slowly towards the ground, bit by bit. The approach is inevitable, he knows there is nothing he can do to stop it.

There was a war brewing, lost between the shadows where the sinister remained hidden. Obi-Wan knew it. Dooku knew it. The Order knew it. The bomb had been set, now it was just a matter if waiting for the inevitable tragedy.

“I… I do care for her well-being Kenobi,” Dooky speaks again, rising to his feet. After a moment, Obi-Wan does the same, if only to be able to get off this infernal ride. “With her wit, she puts even the conversations I held with my former Padawan to shame.”

To that he has no response either, so he watches Dooku step off, before he himself exits and walks away.

.. .-..---...-.-.-----..-

For the brief moment after you step into your shared accommodations, Obi-Wan remembers precisely nothing of Dooku, his focus concentrated solely on the brilliant smile on your face.

And then he remembers.

“You spoke with Dooku on your second trip to Corellia,” He says, more of a statement than a question. You pause from where you’re lowering your bag onto the table, steady hands unzipping and removing a book before you take the nearest seat.

“Yes,” Comes your reply.

“Then you lied to the council,” Obi-Wan continues, hating the way you open your book calmly as if the conversation was of no consequence to you.

“I did no such thing.”

“You said you didn’t run into- it was planned?”

“…Yes.”

“You also said he didn’t contact you.”

Your gaze flickers up for a split second, and Obi-Wan feels his unease growing steadily.

“You contacted him?”

“We did not discuss any matters that the Council would have been concerned over-“ You murmur coolly.

“And what of me? You mean to tell me the two of you did not discuss anything that I might concern myself over?”

It's a cheap shot, and Obi-Wan knows it from the pained look that graces your features. You shut your book and place it gingerly on the table before looking up at him..

“I… I needed to do this myself.”

“I see,” Obi-Wan says heavily. He can’t blame you. If it’s what he thinks it’s about then he certainly can’t blame you for wanting to talk to someone outside the Order. But by Maker, that didn’t make it hurt any less. “And is it fair to conclude that the this in question is you considering leaving the Order?”

“What? How- wh- how can you possibly-“ Understanding dawns on your features. “Dooku spoke to you.”

“Why is it that you wish to leave?” Obi-Wan demands, unable to keep his voice from rising.

“I should’ve known,” You whisper to yourself, tugging uncomfortably at your hair. “He wanted me to stay in the Order, I should’ve known-“

“Why now? Why all of a sudden?”

“It’s not just now! I’ve wanted to leave for years-“ You cut yourself off, and Obi-Wan takes a second to process what you said.

“…What?”

“Forget it.” You stand, moving to brush past him.

“No, how long?”

“Master, I-“

“For how long have you wanted to leave-” me?

“I’m sorry.” You sound meek, ashamed, and he swallows.

“No- don’t apologise,” he soothes, reaching a hand out. The last thing he wants to make you feel further alienated, to give you a nudge in the wrong direction that’ll lead to you walking out the Temple and never returning. “Just… how long have you been struggling with this?”

“Five years. Give or take a few months.”

He sucks in a breath. Five years. Five years.

So this wasn’t just…

“Once you leave, you can’t come back.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

Okay, ouch.

But it wasn't an impulse. Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he’s relieved it isn't some scheme planted in your mind by Dooku, or to be sick at the best years of his life were the same years you spent wanting everything to change.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, gently guiding you to sit back down as he lowers down onto a knee in front of you.

You smile, a bitter, twisted smile, looking at him through tears. “I did not want to disappoint you.”

“Why do you wish to leave?” Obi-Wan prompts, taking your hands in his.

“The Order… it does not do enough.”

“We do the best we can-”

“On the whims of politicians who wish to further their own positions of power!” You argue, frustrated.

“Even- even these negotiations,” You gesture to the room you’re in. “They’re not helping people that really need to be helped.”

Obi-Wan inhales slowly, considering your words.

“I cannot, in good conscience, call myself a keeper of the peace when there are so many suffering.”

“Who are these people you speak of?” He asks, not mocking, not out of ignorance, but out of the genuine desire to understand.

“The poor, in the lower levels of Corellia that have to resort to awful things to feed their families-”

“There are legislations in place to help those that need it-”

“-slaves on Tatooine-”

“Tatooine is located in the Outer Rim. The Republic has no jurisdiction there.”

“The Jedi are not meant to be a part of the Republic!” You exclaim, your energy bursting from you and cracking the table leg in front of you. “We are meant to help people, and I can’t do that if I’m sitting here trying to ensure the dim-witted senator from Corellia does not offend the stubborn ruler of Mandalore!”

Obi-Wan sighs. Careful. He stands, walks to the other side of the room, runs his hand over his face. He turns, regards you thoughtfully. Careful now, do not lose her.

“How would leaving help?”

“I would not be confined within so many rules, for one.”

“Without these rules, it will be all that much easier to give in to temptation,” Obi-Wan reasons. For a brief moment, he thinks he has got you, that the way your voice calmed and the way you seem sure of what you’re about to say means that he’s gotten through. It doesn’t take him a full second for him to realise it is quite the opposite.

“This has nothing to do with your teachings, Master. You have trained me, and taught me with more patience than I deserved , and I will forever be grateful to you,” Your gaze is ever so thankful when you look at him, and he knows that your mind has been made up. He reaches for you, strokes a thumb across your cheek. He doubts he will get the opportunity to hold you this close again.

“Stay.”

“I can’t,” You sound so pained that he wants to throw up. “I’ve tried, and I’ve tried, but I can’t, Master.”

You stand, straighten your robes, and turn for the door. He says your name softly, but you do not hear it.

“I can do more good away from the Order than if I stayed in it. I know it.”

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how you could have been going through so much till you were driven to considering leaving. He didn’t understand how you could have thought that you couldn’t tell him, that he’d look at you differently or think less of you. He didn’t understand how you could be willing to leave everything behind-

He did understand.

Obi-Wan was blatantly lying to himself, perhaps for a moment for self-pity. He was lying to himself because he understood perfectly. It wasn’t as though he had never considered leaving the Order himself. The life of a Jedi was by no means one that was easy.

Several times, during his Padawan training, he thought of leaving all he knew behind. Maybe travel the galaxy. Find his family on Stewjon, if he had any. Maybe he’d settle down on a nice planet, have a life and family of his own. For a brief period he entertained, with a tinge of melancholy, staying with Satine on Mandalore. But even all those years ago, Obi-Wan was a practical man. And she, a practical woman. Love didn’t always mean things had to work out, or that they were meant to be.

There was once he came dangerously close to leaving. Planned it, in fact. His bags were packed and his books and trinkets tucked away. A few letters, written to friends in the order, were tucked under his pillow back in his room on Coruscant. Another letter addressed to Qui-Gon, placed on the table in his room. After the negotiations with the Trade Federation about the blockade over Naboo, he would lead a life away from the Order that he had tried so hard to abide by.

The universe has a funny way of working however, and within the span of no more than a week, Obi-Wan’s life priorities had shifted inordinately.

So, yes, Obi-Wan understands, more than he’s willing to admit.

But above understanding, he’s… scared.

Not about you leaving, while that hurts, the notion of you leaving the Order isn’t what truly strikes him. It’s the thought of you leaving him, and beyond that, it’s the way that he’s already started planning how to leave the Order with you.

You didn’t ask him to leave. He didn’t offer. He’s operating under the assumption that you’ll be completely alright with him staying by your side, even though he has no confirmation that it is indeed the case.

But he’d leave the Order if you said the word. If you said any sort of variation of “I don’t want to leave you,” he’d throw it all behind and whisk you away to a pretty little planet and start a new life with you. One with plants and a view- something you’d like.

It doesn’t matter that it won’t be the life he wants, he’s already accepted that you don’t feel the same way about him that he does you. But he’d be there for you, as a friend, as a mentor, as a companion. He’d be there as long as you needed, for whatever you needed.

(That’s sort of the beautiful thing about love, and unrequited love especially. It doesn’t make you weak, no, it makes you strong, and brave. The power of unrequited love is wholly beyond any comparison. To love the person, you don’t have a need for the person themselves. It’s impossible to love someone beyond loving them so completely that their happiness is enough to sustain you. You can’t lose in a love like that, especially if you never had anything to begin with.)

He’d love you. Completely, and fully, and without fear. He’d love you, and be completely content with your little smiles and the kisses you’d press to his cheek. He’d love you if you’d let him, and he would do it at a distance if you’d rather he didn’t. It doesn’t matter to him, not truly.

Obi-Wan would have to speak to Anakin about it, first and foremost. He wouldn’t just leave without a goodbye, and he certainly wouldn’t let Anakin hear it from anyone else. It would hurt, the goodbye, but Anakin would be alright without him.

With a wry smile, Obi-Wan thinks of how much he’d have to say to his former Padawan, the great man that he now was. About how proud he was of him, how honoured to have been a part of his life. He thinks of Ahsoka, somewhere out there traversing the galaxy, never one to stay too long in one spot if she could help it. He thinks of his friends, of his life, of everything he’s ever known.

He sees you, walking steadily away from him, hand closing around the handle of the door.

“If you truly believe that leaving the Order will make you happy…” Obi-Wan trails off, words dying in his throat. You’re still standing stiffly by the door, and all he can do is stare at the back of your head.

Obi-Wan clears his throat and tries again.

“If that is truly what you desire,I ask that you allow me to accompany you. If not,” Desire, desire, selfish desire, a small voice in the back of his head sings. And, well, let it never be said that he did not at least try. “When you leave, I shall ask for nothing more than your friendship, if that is all you wish to give.”

It’s rather ironic, really, that Obi-Wan has spent so much of his life asking for nothing, hiding his emotions away for the sake of the Jedi, and the Code, when it is in fact his moments of vulnerable honesty that endears him to his Padawans.

There is no other explanation for why his former Padawan saw it fit to turn around and hug him, tears in her eyes and sobs building up in her throat.

Of course, Obi-Wan does not question her being in his apartment the next weekend when he invites his Padawans over for tea, nor does he question it when she goes on a mission the next month, nor does he question it when half a year has passed and she’s grumbling about needing a new lightsaber. He does not question it when she pours herself into research and is appointed a position in the Order that is not easily filled.

He does not question it when she knocks on his door the night before his first official departure as a General of the Republic, and finds her way into his bed, face pressed into his neck.

“What do you need?” He asks.

And she answers, “You.”

.. .-..---...-.-.-----..-

the end

.. .-..---...-.-.-----..-

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan x reader #reader #reader insert #star wars #star wars prequels #Clone Wars #unrequited love #but not really #obi wan is in love but doesn’t realise it #well #he kinda does #angst #arguments #miscommunication #but then they communicate #Anakin Skywalker #fluff

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shrinkthisviolet · 2 years

Text

So I was reading a post about how bizarre it is that Obi-Wan in the Kenobi series clearly cannot kill Anakin, like no matter how bad things get, he can’t do it. Bizarre, the post says, because of how that sits at odds with his insistence to Luke that he must kill Vader, or else the Emperor has already won. And on the face of it, that seems like a fair argument, except…that dichotomy already existed in ROTS, the Kenobi series just exacerbated it 🤷‍♀️

Obi-Wan could’ve killed Anakin quickly in ROTS, but he delayed it for so long in that duel that ultimately Anakin’s “death” ended up being more painful than it should’ve been. Obi-Wan is kind of a hypocrite when it comes to Anakin, because his love for Anakin blurs with/morphs into attachment (they’re not the same thing, but when it gets to the point where someone you love dearly is committing atrocities and you still can’t straight-up kill them…love morphs into attachment) so much that he can’t fathom why Luke doesn’t want to kill Vader, because Luke doesn’t have that attachment and never did.

Luke didn’t know Vader or Anakin, he has no attachment to either of them really—Luke and Vader don’t really have a father-son relationship, because Vader’s actions meant that he wasn’t fit to raise his son, and Luke grew up with this idealized version of his father and has to reconcile that with the Sith Lord Vader. Obi-Wan has spent years rewiring his impression of Anakin, from “Anakin” to “Vader,” we see that beginning in the Kenobi series finale, it’s a long, nine-year process that gets him from “I’m sorry, Anakin, for all of it” to “you can’t win, Darth.” Luke reconciles the two as the same, Obi-Wan divorces them. And neither can understand the other’s perspective on that.

…all of this to say, the Kenobi series isn’t perfect (though I did enjoy it), and some of the critiques I’ve seen of it are valid, but this specific aspect is a strange critique imo. Obi-Wan’s reluctance to kill Anakin is nothing new—what this show does well, I think, is showing him start to let go. Recognizing that Anakin is truly dead, recognizing that his love for Anakin has morphed into attachment, recognizing that he has to let go in order to move forward. In a way, it further cements him as a Jedi—for ten years, he’s lingered in this hurt and grief and pain, but when he finally lets go and moves forward, he’s able to find light and laughter and love (in Leia, and then later in Luke).

That’s why he tells Luke to kill Vader. Not just for the dissolution of the Empire (though that is ofc his main motive), but because he knows the danger of loving someone so much that you think you can save them, refusing to kill them, and watching as they progressively get worse…and ultimately, Obi-Wan didn’t kill Vader/Anakin because he never could, but Luke could save himself this heartbreak.

Luke, of course, found another way. Part of this is because he was raised to be resourceful, and part of this was because he was raised with fierce love and practicality for 19 years. He had the kind of unconditional love for family, family names, etc (since Obi-Wan was raised communally, the statement “because he’s my father” doesn’t have the same meaning because the parental role in the Jedi Order is more spread out than for the general public).

He came to see Vader as Family, and he was stubborn, insistent, and yearning for Family, so he would stop at nothing to make that happen. Friends and Family for Luke are very much The Same Thing, and we see that so many times. Luke was going to save Vader and accept no other answer, and he had that choice because Vader wouldn’t hurt him severely after revealing he was his father. Vader isn’t furious with him like he is with Obi-Wan. So by the time Obi-Wan tried to save Vader…he failed, because Vader had moved firmly into hate. Luke was not only stubborn enough but also lucky/loved enough by Vader to have a chance to save him.

(Note that all mentions of love in this post are platonic, just to make that very clear.)

#kenobi series #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #luke skywalker #star wars #i just have a lot of Thoughts™️ about them 💞#obi wan meant it when he said he was destined for infinite sadness 🙃

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swbumblebee · 3 years

Text

He wasn’t hiding. Jedi Masters don’t hide. Mace Windu doesn’t hide. He just so happened to be in the furthest, quietest part of the archives where it was unlikely anybody would run into him.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the silence as he progressed. This period in time was turning out to be much more taxing than it had been the first time around. Then again, last time he wasn’t trying to formulate a plan to assassinate the Chancellor and decide the fate of a few million potential clones, at the same time as running the order and keeping an eye on two of the most unpredictable boys he had ever met.

Well, a boy and a young man.

Another reason for his journey. He could sense young Anakin’s blindingly strong presence and Obi-Wan’s steady, shielded light, getting closer and closer as he journeyed through the stacks.

What in the galaxy were they doing here?

A high-pitched giggle stopped him in his tracks.

“No Master! It’s Goodd`e da Lodia, otherwise it doesn’t make sense!”

“Alright alright, how’s this? Goodde da Loddia”

“Gooddè”

“Don’t just repeat it Padawan. Sound it out for me, like we do with Basic”

“OK, Goo-dd-è”

“Goodde”

Mace cleared his throat.

“Good day”

Both young Jedi started, Obi-Wan nearly dropped the mug of tea that seemed to be permanently attached to his hand these days.

“Master Mace!” ten year old Anakin cried happily, pushing pleasure into the Force with enthusiasm, to a wince from his Master, who was exuding just the right amount of polite welcome from behind his shields.

“Hello Master Windu” Obi-Wan nodded at him with a somewhat tired smile. He made to get up from the dusty little table squeezed into the alcove and tucked into the wall, but the Master of the Order waved a hand.

“What’s all this?” he asked, eying the various pads and pieces of flimsi littering the table and the floor.

Instead of the usual bouncy response there was an unexpected, rather pregnant, silence and young Anakin gave his teacher a (not terribly subtle) worried look.

“Anakin is teaching me Huttese” Obi-Wan answered smoothly. The boy in question nodded vigorously, and Mace watched with a small amount of amusement as he ever so slightly kicked a piece of flimsy further under the table.

“How…interesting”

“Yes, as you probably heard, it’s not going terribly well” Obi-Wan gave him a self-deprecating smile, no doubt taking note of Mace’s incredulity. He turned to his Padawan.

“Anakin, could you make sure Madam Nu doesn’t close up this section yet, and let her know we won’t be long.”

The boy looked at his Master, and they gave each other a tiny understanding nod. Anakin’s Force signature flared ever so slightly with…fear? before it was quickly soothed by Obi-Wan, Mace assumed.

“Sure Master, be right back” The child took off among the stacks with a smile at Mace.

“Walk please, don’t run!” the young Master called after him, shaking his head.

Mace took the empty seat at the table, taking in the mess once more.

“So…Huttese?” he asked mildly, looking at a nearby pad “and…The Bantha who came for Life day?” he raised his eyebrows at the simple children’s story in Basic.

“Ahh, yes.” The young man chewed on his lip a little as he gathered his thoughts. Mace waited patiently, eyeing a nearby piece of flimsi with the Galactic Basic alphabet written out half a dozen times in shaky writing.

“Anakin is a bright boy” Obi-Wan began slowly. “He has an incredible knowledge of mechanics and electronics, and mathematics comes very easily to him.” He said, unable to keep a proud smile off his face, until he turned serious eyes on Mace again. “There are some areas, however, where he has a lot of catching up to do. He isn’t quite at his age level yet with his literacy.”

Mace frowned.

“Not quite at his age level?” he clarified, with a sinking feeling.

“Ah, no.” Obi-Wan paused again. “Obviously there wasn’t much cause for reading and writing in his previous…position” Both of them scowled at the euphemism “and whilst he can obviously speak it fluently” Obi-Wan sighed. “Anakin never learned to read and write in Basic.” he finished, rather apprehensively.

Mace blinked.

“He…can’t read or write?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. He crossed his arms in front of himself, wrists aligning with elbows. Mace recognised the nervous tick even if it was usually under his robe sleeves.

“He is getting there though” the young man implored “we’re working on it, and he’s a fast learner. I assure you he’ll be up to standard in the next few months.”

Mace breathed out, shaking his head. He could’ve kicked himself.

One more way they had all let Anakin Skywalker down. Of course he wouldn’t be able to study at the level of core-educated temple younglings. He was a slave, the very idea was preposterous.

“But…how has he got on with his classes so far? He’s been here nine months already” Mace asked, deliberately keeping his voice light. He wasn’t going to admonish the only being in the temple who had actually been helping the boy. And it looked like, spending all his free time doing it.

Obi-Wan nodded.

“We work on assignments together, Anakin records his comprehension and writing class and we go through it afterwards.”

Mace took a moment to marvel at the kindness of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Obi-Wan” he said gently. “You have your own teaching and advanced training to work on, not to mention the Master level courses.”

He instantly knew he’d said the wrong thing when fierce blue eyes turned on him and the younger Jedi straightened his posture.

“I am perfectly capable of teaching him Master, he is my Padawan.” He paused, looking down at the table “I won’t put him in a class with the younglings. I won’t allow him to feel like he is less than the other Padawans, like he’s unintelligent.” He said firmly.

For a moment Mace was transported to council meetings with his friend, Master Kenobi arguing his point with words as strong as durasteel and a determination that could move planets. He felt a sudden pang of loss, looking at his friend’s twenty-two-year-old face.

“Of course not” Mace assured, pushing apology into the Force around them. He looked at the table. “But this isn’t sustainable Obi-Wan. You don’t need to do this alone.” He said quietly

The Knight blinked in surprise. Mace nearly rolled his eyes. Had asking for help really never crossed his mind? He made a mental note to focus more of his and Plo’s energy on Kenobi Support Duty.

“Yes.” He repeated firmly. “I will take him for an hour a week” he winced inwardly when he thought of his already busting schedule. Save Skywalker, save the Galaxy he reminded himself. “As, I’m sure, will Master Plo.”

Obi-Wan was giving him a look that was very difficult to decipher, halfway between wary and relieved.

“I…thank you Master” he bowed a little in his seat “that’s very kind of you and I…appreciate it.”

Mace smiled again, satisfied. He couldn’t sense the ball of energy that was Anakin Skywalker yet, obviously still on his quest.

“So you’re teaching Anakin Basic, and he’s teaching you Huttese…?” Mace raised his eyebrows in question again.

Obi-Wan’s ears started to turn ever so slightly pink.

“Ah yes” he cleared his throat. “I just thought…if Anakin considers the way a language is formed and taught, it might help with his own practice. And this way we’re learning together; it might boost his self-esteem a little.” The young Knight paused thoughtfully. “I want to emphasise that learning happens at any age and stage” He explained slowly, and then gave a sheepish smile. “And it’s quite fun” he admitted shyly.

Mace regarded the wise young man across from him. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been wasted in a war, in that other time.

Nerd. He thought fondly.

As Anakin practically skipped back over to them, attempting to sit on his Master in lieu of a third chair, he observed the two Jedi (bickering happily) who could have existed that first time around, if only they’d had more than each other.

Well, this time they had Mace, and Plo. And they’d be dammed if either of their boys ended up carrying the weight of the Galaxy, this time around.

#Space Dads Go Time Travelling #mace windu #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #bby anakin #jedi family #eep this one's a bit long!#fluff?#everyone loves Obi-Wan #obi-wan fanfic

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spectral-musette · 3 years

Text

She touched his face, fingertips light along his temple, nails delicately scraping through the short beard on his cheeks, lingering on the cleft in his chin before resting on his mouth.

“I thought…” she began, but then choked on a soft sob as the tears began to run down her cheeks.

“I thought you would be angry,” he said instead, nuzzling his cheek against her hand and then kissing the palm.

“I am furious,” she assured him, tenderly. “I am incandescent with rage.” Her lips were against his, her breath uneven in his mouth.

Directly following the Deception arc (Clone Wars Season 4 episodes 15-18), Obi-Wan asks for Satine's forgiveness for letting her believe he was dead.

Just over 2000 words, M in AO3-style rating, probably part of a longer work if I can ever finish it and think of a title.

. . . . . . . . . .

Obi-Wan had not protested very much when Padme offered him the use of her family’s lakeside retreat in the aftermath of the attempted abduction of the Chancellor on Naboo. He had, however, expected a slightly more modest structure than the sprawling villa he’d found upon his arrival. Despite the droids on staff, the place seemed empty, hollow, as though it still echoed with the voices and laughter of a happy family. So fresh from his undercover work, he wasn’t sure isolation was the best remedy for his rumpled spirits after the ordeal, but arrangements had been made, and he supposed he could make the best of it for a few days.

In some ways, he was eager to leave Naboo. The memory of Qui-Gon’s death still cut like a keen-edged blade here. But perhaps that meant he should stay, to meditate on his old grief.

Painful as that prospect was, at least it sounded more surmountable than returning to a Temple that had been mourning him.

He’d have to, eventually. Anakin’s (justified) expression of betrayal and Ahsoka’s wounded demeanor still stung, and he didn’t look forward to repeating these painful scenes with other dear friends, with Luminara, or with Quinlan. But until the GAR red tape was untangled (at least a few days), he was still officially dead, and granted all the freedom of a wandering ghost.

He felt a little like the ghost of his old self after a quick swim as he climbed out of the lake onto the patio by the house. He sat heavily on the flagstones, still warm from the sun even as the stars were coming out. The constellations of Naboo seemed startlingly familiar considering the few times he’d seen them. The span of nearly 15 years felt short tonight. Perhaps it was the mere stubble of hair on his skull, shorter even than a padawan’s. Perhaps it was the ache of his old Master’s absence. He tried to ground himself in the present; as he toweled off his wet limbs, the ugly burn scars from his duel with Count Dooku shone pale in the moonlight, and his face still hurt from the dreadful biotech that had transformed him into the Mandalorian marksman.

It was always Mandalorians, wasn’t it? Proof that the Force possessed a sense of dramatic irony that the brethren of the woman to whom he’d lost his heart seemed to continually haunt him.

The guilt of it weighed like a stone on his chest. The mission had dragged on far too long for Satine not to have heard news of his apparent death. He had hoped it might all be resolved before… Well, it had been an unlikely hope, anyway. Padme almost certainly told her immediately.

There hadn’t been anything for it. To ask for permission to tell Satine the truth before the charade would’ve been tantamount to confessing his feelings for her. Had there only been the censure of the Council involved it might’ve been one thing, but any careless word to the Chancellor’s staff could’ve proven disastrous for Satine and the gossamer-fine line she walked to keep peace and authority on Mandalore. He’d been keeping her safe even as he wounded her.

Just like the old days, pulling her out of harm's way, or shielding her with his body.

Only this wasn’t an accidentally scraped knee or bruised arm. Perhaps it was vain of him to assume, but he knew how deeply she cared for him, how intense her feelings ran…

He’d tried composing a message to her so many times. Even still in the guise of Rako Hardeen, when he caught a moment’s rest, he’d gone over it in his mind, lulling himself into an uneasy sleep as he tried to find the words to ask her forgiveness.

In the end, a forthright Forgive me, was the best he could muster, hastily sent to her private channel as soon as he’d gotten access to a comm unit at the conclusion of the charade. If you’ll listen, I’ll try to explain, but nothing will excuse what I’ve put you through. Know that I am so very sorry.

She hadn’t replied. He checked the comm unit again as he pulled his undertunic over his head, the rough linen soaking up the last of the lake water on his back, seeing only his own message, stark and insufficient.

He didn’t blame her, truly.

He’d slept since sending it, through the afternoon, reveling a little in the luxury of resting when he felt tired, regardless of the local daytime cycles. And he dreamed in disjointed flashes, mostly of her… her grief, her melancholy, her ire… of the glint of tears on her dark gold eyelashes, the quaver of anger in her beloved voice.

He wasn’t sure if he ought to just sleep again, now that night was here. Weary as he was, he felt he could sleep for days.

He heard the door from the house to the patio open. He didn’t look immediately, as it seemed likely to be one of Padme’s droid caretakers, there to ask if he required food or clean linens. But there was no whirring of servos, and the footsteps on the flagstones sounded too soft. He caught a whiff of an achingly familiar floral scent just as he turned.

She must’ve been too much in his thoughts already, his mind too clouded with guilt and regret and weariness to clearly sense her presence.

But Satine stood, silhouetted by the dim illumination of the house, resplendent in the scarlet gown she’d worn the night they’d met in secret on Coruscant, though her hair was loose about her shoulders, pale and shimmering in the moonlight. For a moment she was utterly still, then she merely raised a hand to her mouth, stifling a soft gasp.

He scrambled to his feet, keenly aware that this was not the state in which he wished to appear before his lady. His trousers were still sopping, his undertunic open to the navel, and his hair had barely grown in longer than the stubble on his jaw. But her eyes were only on his, and shining with tears. She took a few steps towards him, then swayed a little. He lunged to catch her around the waist; the last thing she needed on top of all the rest of the suffering he’d caused her was bruised knees. She twined her arms around his neck, and his knees gave a slow surrender too, such that the pair of them sank to the flagstones, wrapped in each other’s arms.

She touched his face, fingertips light along his temple, nails delicately scraping through the short beard on his cheeks, lingering on the cleft in his chin before resting on his mouth.

“I thought…” she began, but then choked on a soft sob as the tears began to run down her cheeks.

“I thought you would be angry,” he said instead, nuzzling his cheek against her hand and then kissing the palm.

“I am furious,” she assured him, tenderly. “I am incandescent with rage.” Her lips were against his, her breath uneven in his mouth.

He tasted it in her kiss, a fleeting note of bitterness and sorrow amid the heady sweetness of her relief and joy, the fire of her desire.

“I am so very sorry,” he repeated, abject.

“Oh, I hope so,” she replied, breathless.

As usual, Satine had the last word, as neither of them could speak for some time after that.

. . . . . . . . . .

She lay on her side, half propped up on her elbow, her head against the pillow and her hair spread across it in a tangle of pale spun gold. The bedclothes were pooled around her waist, and he deeply felt the intimacy and vulnerability they shared in that moment. He thought this image of her would be vivid in his mind for the rest of his days, however long that might be: the pale morning light on her bare skin, her flushed cheeks, the glint of unshed tears in her eyes, the soft swell of her breasts with her sharp, uneven breaths as she tried not to cry again.

Finished with his abridged account of the awful ordeal, he reached out to run the backs of his fingers along her arm.

“Say something,” he begged.

She sat up a little more, her hair falling across her face as she wrapped her arms around herself and turned away from him.

“It might be… easier to accept, if you’d done it for the sake of someone … worthy of all this pain. To protect Anakin or Ahsoka or Padme or…”

“Satine, I can’t decline a mission to protect the Chancellor simply because I dislike the man.”

“It isn’t a matter of dislike. There’s something… so… wicked about him. Manipulative and scheming. Don’t say it’s because he tried to put troops on Mandalore, and don’t you dare say it’s because he’s a politician.” She turned back to him, her gaze challenging.

“No,” he agreed prudently. “I won’t say that. I don’t disagree with you. He’s been a mentor to Anakin and to Padme for as long as I’ve known him, but I can’t help thinking it’s always been somehow for his own benefit. He steered Padme to get himself elected in the first place, and his grip on the office has been white-knuckled since. I can’t very well blame him for the war, but despite his lipservice towards peaceful resolution, the GAR keeps swelling its ranks.”

“I’ll blame him. Unfortunately, there’s no evidence to confirm it aside from my gut feeling.”

He placed a hand on her waist, his thumb tracing around her navel. “I’ve learned to trust your gut feelings. But dislike him, distrust him or not, my duty is to the Republic.”

He started to pull his arm back, but she gripped it by the elbow. He slid his hand to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

“What of your duty to me?” Her voice was quiet, but not without a note of beskar.

“Is it duty?” he asked. “I thought it was love.”

“Perhaps it’s very Mandalorian of me,” she said, “that we hold our most sacred duties to be to those we love.”

“Satine, I cannot put my devotion to you above the will of the Council or the good of the Republic. Not while I serve the Jedi Order.”

He almost expected her to pull away in anger or distress, but she shifted closer, pressing her face against his shoulder. “I know that. I’ve always known that. But it hasn’t hurt like this before.”

“Not since I left?” he suggested, burying his face in her hair and holding her tightly.

“No. Not even then. It wasn’t losing you, it was letting you go. This was… like I had died too.”

The guilt of it made his stomach turn. “I am so sorry, Satine. If there had been time to find another way… to spare you this…”

“The worst of it is that you knew how it would hurt me,” she accused. “And you still did it.”

“I knew,” he confirmed, regretful. “The Chancellor insisted on knowing everyone who was privy to the plan, and I had no time to even find the opportunity to disobey. I thought… the risk of revealing that you should be told…”

She let out a breath, hot against his skin.

“I think I’d have much rather run that risk than think you were dead.”

“If I’d had time to think it through, perhaps I’d have decided differently. But everything was snap decisions, and my instinct was to protect you.”

“And I can’t even be angry at you for that.”

“Of course you can be angry,” he soothed.

“Oh, what good does it do?” she demanded, lifting her head, fair brow furrowed. “Just wasting time quarreling when we have so little time together anyway.”

“Then you forgive me?” he asked humbly, kissing her forehead.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, stroking his cheek. “I know that I still want you, though.”

“Then I am yours,” he promised, kissing her fingertips.

“At least it’s not an offense that’s very likely to be repeated,” she reflected, shaking her head a little.

“Not very,” he agreed.

“I feel like I ought to extract some promise… some penance. But I expect you’ve punished yourself enough.”

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “The thing itself was terrible too. Not that I’m suggesting that what I went through can compare to-”

“Hush, darling,” she scolded. “It can be terrible on its own.”

“Sometimes I thought my death might end up not being a lie after all,” he said softly.

“Do you want to tell me?” she asked, her fingertips light across his brow.

He shook his head. No, he didn’t want to see how it would pain her, to think of him in danger, forced to behave as an utter villain. “Not now. Not more than I already have.”

She kissed him then, deep and ardent. “Then forget, for a while,” she said, breathless, her lips still brushing his. “Let me forget again. Make me forget.”

She hitched her leg around him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he shifted onto her, into the blissful oblivion where she was the center of the universe and the Force sang in resonance with their love.

#Obi Wan/Satine #obitine #Star Wars fic #Clone Wars fic #I wrote a thing #long post #Obi Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #guys I am so bad at titles #I have been trying to write something about this for ages

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galateagalvanized · 2 years

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Just saw your post and AAHHHH!!!! I would LOVE to know more about what happens after The Art of Happenstance, if you're so inclined! I know you left it pretty open, and I very much respect that if you'd prefer to keep it that way, but do you see Cody and Obi-Wan going and starting up the rebellion with a vengeance?? Or do they go a "Luke's Uncles on Tatooine" route? It's one of my absolute favorite Codywan fics, so thank you for writing it <3 <3 <3

hello!!! sorry I’m getting to this so late, but I’m more than happy to share the answer to this: it’s a little bit of both! I don’t think Cody could have left his brothers (or Rex) to fend for themselves against the Empire, and I don’t think Obi-Wan could have left Luke. Here’s what I mean:

Cody doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the heat on Tatooine. He misses the environmental controls of his armor almost as much as he misses the way he could pretend his visor would hide his eye rolls from his general.

Well. He may as well commit to showing Obi-Wan how ridiculous this is. He rolls his eyes with exaggerated care as Obi-Wan hems and haws on the dune ridge beside him. Behind madly, horribly, incontrovertibly in love with Obi-Wan can be such a pain in the ass.

“Obi-Wan, quit overthinking this,” he says. “The boy’s your family however you want to split it. Just go talk to him.”

“I don’t want to overly influence him,” Obi-Wan says. It sounds like a line he’s rehearsed in his head a dozen times. “If he’s anything like his father, telling him to do something is the best way to ensure he doesn’t do it.”

Cody carefully doesn’t say, If he’s too much like his father, we’re going to have another problem altogether. He holds the thought in his heart and keeps it from leaking into the Force bond with the ease of years of practice.

In the distance, on the further ridge still limned by the first of two setting suns, the Lars homestead turns yellow and orange and pink in the dying light. A young boy sits on top of a speeder parked by the adobe, and Cody can barely see the kick of his legs as his uncle works beneath the speeder’s chassis.

Outloud, Cody says, “You don’t have to impart the wisdom of the ages. He’s five. Just tell him you like his hair or something.”

When Obi-Wan still hesitates, Cody goes in for the kill. “He deserves to know you, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan winces, folding his hands into the bells of his sleeves to hide the white knuckles Cody knows have appeared. Cody doesn’t give him a chance to backpedal and presses the advantage.

Quietly, softly, seriously, Cody adds, “Anakin wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do that to him. You didn’t poison him. You wouldn’t be protecting Luke by keeping your distance; you’d just be depriving him of the little family he has left.”

“I didn’t sway him to the dark, but I didn’t keep him in the light,” Obi-Wan says. “I didn’t see. I never looked closely enough, though I could have. I certainly could have.”

“And I didn’t follow up with Rex about the chips after Fives,” Cody says, wielding his words like blunt force trauma. “I read that report and set it aside. I could’ve dug deeper.”

Obi-Wan twists his head at that, and Cody can see the angry furrow of his brow beneath the shadow of his hood. “Cody, you couldn’t possible have—“

Cody raises an eyebrow.

It stops Obi-Wan's words and all his self-recrimination. Cody feels a wash of rueful fondness in the bond between them, but he’s not entirely sure who it’s coming from. After a second, Obi-Wan shakes his head.

“Well-played,” Obi-Wan admits. “Well-played. But it isn’t quite the same, is it? Anakin was my responsibility in full.”

Cody shrugs. “I don’t think I ever pretended I didn’t think of the GAR, and all my brothers, as mine.”

In the same vein, it’s been difficult to remain on Tatooine while Rex runs boots on the ground across the galaxy for the Rebellion, but Cody has always been more strategic than tactical. The Rebellion itself has a painful lack of any sort of command experience within its upper ranks, and even Cody can admit that he’s done more good coordinating missions, relief aid, covert operations, and supply logistics than he ever could have with a blaster. It took him and Obi-Wan the better part of a year to set up a communications array capable of slipping beneath the Empire’s radar and running on the limited resources of Tatooine, but it’s been well worth it.

Besides, the Empire’s information security is shit. They’re still using the access and encryption codes he and Rex came up with in their first year. If their defense posture is this bad, Cody’s isn’t terribly afraid of whatever offense they could scrap together.

But Cody’s not at his terminal now. He’s out in the desert beneath the vicious glare of two suns, squinting through the heat waves at Obi-Wan’s last link to his family.

“I get it, okay?” he says. “Maybe we both could’ve done more. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. But you can’t let the could-haves keep you from the can-haves.”

At that, Obi-Wan reaches for Cody’s hand in the desert and for Cody’s mind in the Force. The warmth of his palm and his clear affection seep through to Cody’s core.

“You’re right, my dear,” Obi-Wan says, and he follows when Cody uses their joined hands to lead him down the dune. “Of course you’re right.”

P.S. This is the second of three Art of Happenstance fills. Here’s the first if you missed it!

#prompt fills #codywan #the art of happenstance #am writing #my works #tcw #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #a LOT of people asked for spicy #and that’s the third one hahaha #just hold onto your shorts for a minute lmao

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nanagoswife · 3 years

Text

Contrition of War

A request for @generousrunawaydonut

Summary: After going against orders from Obi-Wan to leave him behind, he's mad that you risked yourself.

W/C: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, mention of blood and death and serious injury

- - -

There was a light trickle of something wet dripping down the side of your face. You weren’t surprised as you had just jumped under a bunch of rocks to save many, but more importantly one particular person. This particular person also would’ve been the only one who had no possibility to escape.

Despite his protests and telling you all to leave before it was too late, you jumped in anyways, doing your best to deflect laser bolts while using your other hand to push the force through you to hold off the falling cliffside.

Although you were able to stop a lot of them, you were still unable to contain them all. A couple had come whizzing by you, a couple striking you as you prevented multiple injuries and one definite death.

You were aware the others were safe, but you had to wait for the right window of time so that you could try to guarantee your own safety. That was, until a blaster just grazed your shoulder. Thankfully, not enough for it to actually touch your flesh.

As time went by, it was getting continually harder to hold it all. The window you were hoping wasn’t showing itself. You started to fear that maybe this wouldn’t go as planned and that it may compromise everyones’ safety.

That is what you thought until you saw two other flashes of blue, now deflecting the shots that you had been determinedly fighting off.

“Y/N! Go now!” yelled Anakin over the noise. You looked at Obi-Wan who wasn’t breaking his attention from the droids in front of you.

Slight disappointment filled you when he didn’t spare a glance over at you to send you extra reassurance, but you didn’t let it distract you. There wasn’t enough time.

With the last of your strength, you pushed the rocks towards the droids.

The whole front line of them was crushed under the stone pieces, and awarded everyone enough time to get to the ships before they started firing again. Obi-Wan took the rear as Anakin came over and helped you as your tired frame began to pull you down, not allowing you to get up on your own.

It didn’t take long to get on the ship, and you were surprised you didn’t just collapse from how you just exerted yourself once you were safely up the ramp. There was so much of your force energy that was used for that act alone that you wouldn’t be able to do much else before getting a decent rest. Preferably in Obi-Wan’s arms.

“Why in Corellia’s nine hells did you do that?” Obi-Wan almost yelled. You slightly jumped at the suddenness of it. The doors had only just closed to the outside as the transport had lifted off.

Obi-Wan was nearly drowning in furious worry. He had nearly lost you due to your little stunt in the name of saving him.

You looked down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze as he reprimanded you. Anakin wasn’t far behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder for comfort as you kept your head down. He even slightly pulled you back and away from the man you loved, currently sounding like you had just betrayed him and the Jedi by saving him.

“Obi-Wan, calm down. Why can’t you be grateful at the fact that she just saved your life along with so many others,” Anakin shot back at his former master. “It may have been reckless, but it’s nothing you haven’t seen, or done, before,” Anakin continued sternly.

“Yes, and how does that usually turn out for us, Anakin? This was a brash, undercalculated and dangerous action that could’ve done a lot more harm than good!”

Obi-Wan’s blazing eyes still hadn’t calmed when you caught a glance at him. You were almost afraid that he would soon say something to deepen the pain you felt, and it was leading to that. You thought he would appreciate the help, not be mad about it. On top of the exhaustion, this wasn’t going well for you especially when you wanted his comfort. You wanted to fall into his warm embrace.

All you had wanted to do was help. Sure, you were spurred on by the fact that you wanted to keep someone you cared a lot about alive and unharmed, but there were others that were in danger. If needed, that could be your excuse to everyone else, you mused. It could hide the fact that you acted more out of emotion and previous experiences than The Code permitted.

Still, that didn’t dampen the painful twist in your chest as you were sure you were about to be lectured. Not only that, but it seemed like Obi-Wan was actually mad about you saving him. You thought he’d be happy. Happy that he could spend more days with you and then tend to your wounds in the quiet of one of your rooms, but that wasn’t seeming like a possibility with how this was.

“I’m not your padawan to protect,” he said suddenly, irritation in his tone.

You felt tears well up in your eyes with an extra sting of pain as you couldn’t bring yourself to actually look at Obi-Wan. It was too much to even just hear his tone, and it wouldn’t be helped if you saw the same thing in his eyes. Never, in your relationship or the time you’ve just known him, has he ever spoken to you like this. Never has he used a past failure against you.

When he finally took a moment to evaluate the situation, he saw that tears were forming in your eyes as you still kept your head down. Absolute shock froze Anakin in place at his words. Immediate remorse filled him as he realised what he had just said.

Anakin, your good friend and ever protective of you, even when he was still a padawan, used the hand on your shoulder to pull you into a hug while giving him a hard look.

“I-I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan stuttered out, changing his tone to be gentler. “I just- you could’ve been killed.”

“You think I don’t know that,” you said, shaky and muffled into Anakin’s robes, face turned away. “We’re Jedi. It’s part of our job description. To protect.”

His emotions were clouding every rational thought. So much so that he just brought up a sensitive topic and used it against you. He had no right to, not when he knew how much pain it brought you.

“General Skywalker?” a voice from Anakin’s comm buzzed as you felt your transport land in the star destroyer hanger.

Anakin pulled away carefully with a small groan of annoyance, still making sure you were alright before answering.

“What is it, Rex?”

“You’re needed in the docking bay. R2 seems to have a problem,” the clone captain replied.

With a sigh, Anakin let Rex know he would be there soon before turning his comm off.

“Will you be alright?” He asked you, genuine concern.

You nodded, “I was thinking of heading to my quarters, anyway.” You gave Obi-Wan a small glance as you said that. There was something in you that wanted to know how he was feeling.

At the moment, his fury from only moments ago had died down, now showing remorse for his words. Concern was also etched in, mainly felt through the force rather than seen on his facial expression.

“Alright,” Anakin started, breaking your train of thought, “If you need me, comm me immediately. Maybe get those scratches checked.”

You gave a snort in response which received a playful smirk from Anakin before he walked away, giving Obi-Wan a brief, hard glare before leaving you alone with Obi-Wan. You weren’t sure whether he was about to continue to lecture you on what you had done, or whether he was going to apologize. You could feel the conflict, but nothing on his face gave away what he was going to do.

Either way, you didn’t want to find out. There was too much running through your mind, and you didn’t want any of it to come out. Especially with the fact that he reopened an only just healed wound.

“Darling, I-” Before he could say another word, you dropped your eyes to the floor again and fled the room. He could feel the dejection radiating across your bond before it snapped away. You had completely closed off your side of the bond.

This left Obi-Wan alone. Between what he said to you, no, more like the way he talked to you and how he was chided by his former apprentice and then the way you seemed like you couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him, let alone have your bond open, he was frozen in place. Shock at everything absolutely flooded him, and he didn’t know what he was doing.

Bringing his hands up, he rubbed his face with both palms before running them through his hair, letting out a sigh of disappointment in himself. That was no way to talk to you. Especially when all he wanted was to be closer to you, comfort you, and when he had truly wanted to help you with your injuries.

Now was not the time, though. He knew you would want time alone, and he knew you wouldn’t want him to come knocking on your door. Not after this. Not when, for the first time ever, he had raised his voice at you.

It didn’t help that everything had been so stressful, especially for you. Recently, your padawan, Tylo Dara, had been gravely injured in a previous battle despite how hard you tried to protect him.

You and your padawan along with a squad of clones were answering a call for help on Toydaria. While you had been walking through where the Separatist troops had been sighted, a blast had shattered the walls of the ravine you were walking through. It was an ambush and you, along with any unhurt clones, were barely able to fend them off. Once the firing had ceased, you had frantically searched for Taylo, only to find him pinned under multiple boulders. Relief troops thankfully came soon enough to keep your padawan and a few clones alive.

Though the attack was an ambush, you blamed yourself for everything that had happened. It took so much of Obi-Wan to finally convince you that it wasn’t your fault. Now he had most likely just undid that.

Other than the mass casualties of your clone squad, it looked like Tylo would never be well enough to spend another day training to become a Jedi. Too much in his body was damaged that the bacta tank did next to nothing. Not even the healers could fix him enough to bring him back to usual health.

That’s when it clicked for Obi-Wan. You didn’t want to lose another that you cared about. You didn’t want to lose the one you loved.

Finally breaking out of his frozen position, he went after you. There was so much that he needed to apologize for. You didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that when all you did was protect him and so many others from the falling cliffside that had been blown off. In fact, it was one of the most impressive things he had ever seen.

Although you had injuries that needed to be tended to, Obi-Wan knew that the medbay wasn’t where you would go. No, you always wanted the injured clones to gain the limited medics’ attention along with the droids. That’s why it had been customary for Obi-Wan to patch you up after every mission, even if he wasn’t on it with you. You would be so stubborn that many times you would arrive home at the Temple before letting yourself get any medical aid.

Since there wasn’t anywhere else, he knew he would find you in your room. This would seem normal if you hadn’t spent nearly all of your nights in Obi-Wan’s room.

Standing outside of your door, he took a deep breath before knocking. For a moment, he was afraid you wouldn’t answer until your door slid open.

When he looked at you, you were slouched over. Your hair was a mess and he could see the trails on your cheeks where tears had run down your face. To you, you would’ve said that you looked horrible. To him, you looked beautiful. To him, whether you were happy, sad, angry, bloody or sweaty, you always made his heart skip a beat.

Now, he just had to keep himself together so that you may forgive his imprudent words.

“May I come in?” he asked, voice slightly shaky.

You shifted from one foot to the other, “I don’t know if-”

“Y/N, please,” he said, pleading with you. If you rejected him now, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

When your eyes met his, you could see how desperate he was. The cerulean pools of his eyes were showing a storm of emotion that begged you to let him in. It was a look that you were never able to say no to.

Relenting, you only nodded and made your way back to the corner of your room atop of your bed. It was the closest thing you could get for comfort, the cool durasteel pressing into your back.

Relief filled Obi-Wan as he cautiously stepped into your room. Closing the door, he took a glance around. Compared to his that had both yours and his things, this room was practically empty. On top of that, it was cold and felt lonely.

When his eyes rested on you, you had your knees brought up to your chest, arms wrapped around them as you sat in the corner. Your stare was blank as your chin rested on top of your knees.

Obi-Wan’s heart twisted in guilt as he experimented through your shared bond. He was only met by your walls still locked shut. Although he couldn’t wrap his force with yours, he could still feel the sadness and grief radiating off of you. There was also remorse that floated around, but not overpowering.

Making his way over, he sat on the edge of your bed, “Y/N, I am so sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

“But you were right,” you said, your voice small and hollow.

“No,” Obi-Wan said immediately, “No I wasn’t. Thanks to you, so many men are still alive.”

“You were right about one thing. You aren’t my padawan. I no longer have a padawan. I-” fresh tears were filling your eyes as your voice caught in your throat. “I- I no longer have Tylo.”

His heart sunk in his chest just like it had the first time you had told him of your padawan. Just like that night, he wanted to pull you into him and hold you as you cried, but he didn’t know if you would let him. He didn’t know if he crossed a line that he couldn’t come back from.

Testing the waters, he moved a hand to rest gently on an ankle, only now noticing that you hadn’t even removed your battle worn boots. When you didn’t try and move away, a small bit of relief filled him.

“I had no right bringing that up. It wasn’t fair of me, especially when I know how you feel about it.” Desperation to make his intentions truly known was starting to break through into his tone. He so badly wanted you to open up to him so that he could reinforce it all.

For what felt like the first time, you brought your eyes to meet his. There was so much pain that filled them that Obi-Wan almost broke down. The amount of sadness he caused you made him loathe himself. Anger was never the right answer and definitely not against you.

“I just didn’t want it to happen to anyone else,” you started, voice delicate and not letting sound properly make its way out, the silent parts sounding like a breeze trying to talk. “I didn’t want to lose you, Obi,” your tears began to burn down your cheeks once again as you said this.

Obi-Wan moved his hand to place it over one of yours. If this was the only comfort you’d let him give you, then he wouldn’t waste it. Then, you opened, letting him finally wrap your end of the bond to be wrapped in his comfort.

“I don’t care how much love goes against the code. I love Tylo like a son. I love Cody, I love all of the clones. I love Anakin. Obi-Wan, I love you. I love you.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t hold back anymore. He moved so that he was on his knees beside you, pulling you into him and hugging you tight. Although this was to comfort you, it comforted him just as much.

“I love you too, darling,” he said, kissing your head as your tears grew heavier and your heaving breaths grew as desperate as your hands clasping at his robes. “What you did was extraordinary and you saved so many of us. I was just so scared because I almost lost you.”

Carefully, he moved so that he was sitting, you partially on his lap as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. The spot was damp with the combination of your tears and your warm breath, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was comforting you and being there for support like you always were for him. All he cared about was that you still loved him.

“I’m sorry, Obi. I-”

“Shh, you have nothing to apologize for,” he said quickly. “I’m the only one who has to apologize. I made you feel bad for doing the right thing.”

Sniffling, you pulled away to look in his eyes. His smile melted all sadness and worry that you still stored. If that wasn’t it, then it was him wiping your face dry with the soft fabric of his undershirt.

Obi-Wan wasn’t satisfied until you smiled when he cupped your cheek with one hand and, with the other, intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Now, will you allow me to check your injuries?”

You chuckled as you brought your free hand to brush away the hair from his face, “No.”

“No?” The confusion on his face made you laugh.

“Not until I do this.”

With your hand still brushing his hair back, you slid it to the nape of his neck. As he caught on, he finished your thoughts before you were able to act. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours, both of you breathing out a contented sigh.

Everything around you melted away. Every doubt, fear, and shred of sadness disappeared. Obi-Wan was here. Your love was here and made you feel the safest you’ve ever been since the start of this war.

- - -

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05

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shiftynightshade · 3 years

Text

Cody shifted as General Kenobi gestured to the holo-map, a frown accompanying the crease in-between his eyebrows. The general was discussing tactics and strategies with the dreadful Wilffur Tarkin, and the two were debating over the better battle plan.

(It was arguing really, one-sided as it was.)

‘Well’ Cody mused. ‘Which strategy will allow more Vod’e to walk away alive.’

Tarkin was infamous in the GAR, ruthless in all his plans, and he certainly didn’t care about how many brothers died, and if all of them died but the battle was won, all those deaths were overlooked by everyone.

Except the Jedi.

The Jedi treated them like people, sentient beings with thoughts and feeling, not flesh droids. Called them by their names rather than their numbers, mourned them and loved them.

And Cody’s general, Obi-Wan Kenobi, The Negotiator, was the best of them all.

Tarkins’ oily voice was cold and snide as he leered at Kenobi through the hologram.

“Well, General Kenobi” He spat out their Jedi’s title, which evidently didn’t go unnoticed, if nearly every brother on the bridge bristling in offense was any indication. “It seems that we are yet to meet at a compromise, I shall call at a later date to discuss this again.” With a harsh flick the call was cut.

Under his bucket Cody frowned. He hated the way Tarkin talked or looked at his Jedi. Obi-wan had turned around, a scowl in place of his normal charming smile, and Cody longed to run his thumb over those soft pink lips and kiss them sweetly.

The sudden beeping of the comms nearly made Cody jump. Nearly. Though judging by Waxer and Boils snickering, his brothers still noticed. Fuck.

“Kenobi?” Helixes’ drawl trickled through. “The Jedi healers arrived sir.”

Obi-wan nodded, even if Helix couldn’t see it. “Bring them to the bridge, thank you Helix.” Cody sighed internally, whether it was from relief or anticipation, he wasn’t sure yet. The senate had finally caved and ordered for a Jedi healer to be stationed with major and heavy-hitting battalions to assist and to make sure that those Jedi didn’t get themselves killed or captured as more and more cases of force exhaustion and force coma’s quickly rose among the Jedi.

Cody could still remember Pond’s terrified voice trickling through their comms, his breathing laboured and speech borderline hysterical. Sobbing about how during one of Windu’s worse bouts of force exhaustion and headaches, caused by there being too many shatterpoints had left them vulnerable.

Ponds was clutching his generals lightsaber in both fists, hands trembling and obviously trying to not think about what Dooku and Ventress could’ve been doing to his riduur, and he had refused to let go of the lightsaber until they had finally located and retrieved Windu two months later, the master of the order in a force induced coma and still temple bound.

Cody repressed a shudder. The sheer brokenness in Ponds eyes as he stared at the Korrun’s battered body floating lifelessly in the bacta tank, then later spending every day religiously by his side while holding his hand gently, not caring of the days going by as he sat his protective vigil by the comatose Jedi’s side.

Cody pursed his lips. It’s probably for the better.

Obi-wan’s expression morphed into slight confusion, even if it’ was only a slight narrowing of the eyes.

Cody removed his bucket to rest it on his hip and opened his mouth. “Sir?” He was going to say more, but he was cut off by the door to the bridge opening and a scream of “OBI!” echoing in the room. A blur of cream and blue robes and pinkish red skin rushing past him which quickly turned into a hug like tackle, the blur turning out to be a red-pink Calamari woman in a combined set of cream and blue robes, her shout having quickly drawn the attention of everyone on the bridge.

Obi-wan had looked up at the shout, surprise then joy spreading across is face as the calamari latched onto him like a barnacle from Kamino’s oceans.

Cody felt his eyebrows rise, in curiosity, and when Obi-wan hugged the vibrating stranger back just as tightly, he was pretty sure they were going to fly off his head.

Obi-wan smiled warmly, and for one in a long time, it met his eyes.

“Bant! I didn’t expect you to be assigned to u!”

Head against Obi-wan’s chest, the side of the temple where ears on a human would be rested right over his hears. Crys cleared his throat.

“I’m going to guess that you two know each other?”

Obi-wan gave a rare, but blindingly radiant smile. The two shifted so his and Bant’s arms were wrapped around each other’s shoulders a position Cody was familiar with. It was one of kinship and a way to acknowledge siblings.

Bant giggled. “Obi’s my Clanmate and brother in everything but blood.” Cody blinked.

“Clanmate..?” He ventured. “Is that like the vode’s batchmates?”

For a ridiculous moment Cody thought that would’ve been confused about the concept of batchmates, but her large eyes sparkled and she smiled.

“Exactly! There’s a few differences obviously, but the concept is same!”

Cody gave a small smile at the praise, ignoring Cry’s imploring look.

Suddenly Obi-wan straightened. “Everyone, this is Bant Eerin, she’ll be serving alongside our medics for an unprecedented amount of time.” A shiny whose name Cody has yet to learn raised their hand.

Obi-wan nodded at the shiny. “Yes..?” the prompt for their name went unsaid. They shifted on the spot. “Ace sir.” He tapped his fingers against his yet to be painted armour. “If you don’t mind me asking, but what’s different about clanmates?”

Bant smiled. “Great question Ace! Clanmates are like a Jedi initiates family until they are picked by a master, and then they join that lineage’s family.”

She bumped her shoulder against Obi-wan’s with a small grin. “It’s up to an individual whether or not they still consider their clanmates family or not.”

She fiddled with a necklace, the rope and pendant barely noticeable under her robes. “Sometimes a Jedi will switch masters, whether because they requested a change or something happens to the master, then you will be considered apart of two different lineages.”

Obi-wan grinned and nodded. “Does that answer your questions Ace?”

The clone nodded bashfully, a small smile and a soft blush making its way onto his face.

Crys leaned against a console with his arms crossed, but swiftly raised a hand. Obi-wan nodded over at him. “Yes Crys?”

Crys stared at the two Jedi with thinly veiled curiosity, and on the excited shifting from the rest of the Vod’e, they were just as excited to learn.

“What did General Eerin mean by if a Jetti shiny requests a new master?” They all knew what ‘if something happened to the master’ meant. Too incapacitated to teach and raise, or dead.

Bant’s eyes grew sad, while Obi-wan closed his eyes. “If,” Bant began, a mix of grief and anger swirling in her eyes. “-A padawan requests a new master, an investigation is launched immediately for why they want a change.”

Obi-wan took over. “There has been only a few cases of abuse, but they still exist, some instances a master had declining physical or mental health. And both have agreed that it would be safer and more beneficial for both to part ways.”

Obi-wan grew quiet. “And there has only been a handful of time where the master has fallen to the darkside.”

The bridge grew quiet at that. Cody hadn’t seen a Jedi that had fallen outside of Dooku, but he’s heard stories, tales of how they became a shell of their former selves. He shuddered at the idea of an ad’ika happened to be with them…

And Cody dreaded the idea of his general falling. Pale skin splashed with the blood of innocents, Jedi and Vod’e alike, warm blue-green eyes taken over by a cold, molten gold that boiled with rage and hate. His blue lightsaber, usually a blazing symbol of hope and safety, instead replaced with red, a symbol of fear and darkness.

Cody let out a breath. He and the rest f his brothers would rather be cut down or eat their own blasters than fight against their general.

“-Ways Bant, do you need any directions or do you want to go straight to the med-bay?”

Cody jerked out of his head, eternally grateful that he had put his bucket back on.

Bant and Obi-Wan had turned to face each other. Bant smirked. “Are you saying you’re willing to go to med-bay with me?” The bridges occupants collectively held their breaths.

Bant hummed. “Sixty-six seconds Obi, better start running.” Cody watched in amusement as a few clones cheered or yelled out “go general!” as he dashed down the hall, and Cody managed to catch a glimpse of Obi-Wan kicking a vent covering open and leaping into the vents just as the covering fell back into place.

Sixty-six seconds later and Bant stood from where she was sitting and cleared her throat. “Alright, boys!”

She grinned. “Who wants to help me hunt down a rogue patient?”

Cody grinned as Crossbones cheered from his spot next to Crys.

#obi-wan #mace windu #codywan #cody #crys #helix #bant eerin #ponds #wilhuff tarkin

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oldtowrs · 3 years

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˗ˏˋ LOVELY PRESENCE; obi-wan kenobi x handmaiden!reader

SUMMARY - the reader, a handmaiden and obi-wan’s love, visits the jedi temple to spend a last evening together before obi-wan is sent on a mission to corellia, and finds him in the middle of training. needless to say, obi-wan throws caution to the wind and shameless fluff ensues

WORD COUNT - ~4.3k

A/N - ayyy... its more of my golden boy, haha. i don’t know what you all expected really. this is really just shameless fluff for fluff’s sake. i hope you all enjoy. and please i don’t want to get any comments saying ‘they could’ve gotten caught, blah blah.’ yes i know, that’s the point. i said shameless fluff did i not? small font and no caps is intentional. and for the story’s sake, just pretend that no one saw obi-wan and the reader, okay? okay. also i’m going to tag @obaewankenobis and @karasong / @hellotherekenobi bc they liked the excerpt i posted from this piece. here’s the full thing enjoy :)

WARNINGS - obi-wan in a tank top. i said what i said.

coruscant shone golden in the last rays of the setting afternoon sun. the buildings, huge pillars of metal and glass, reflected the golden light every which way, illuminating the many hovercraft that flew through the coruscanti airspace, looking like little trails of stardust in the sky. the sky, with its painted gradient of vibrant hues, and clouds which interrupted the color in such elegant ways, acted as a beautiful backdrop for the gleaming city.

as padme’s advisor and handmaiden, you had seen many beautiful sunsets and sunrises, the sun rising from or melting into one of the many beautiful lakes of naboo. but none of them could’ve paralleled the gleaming grandeur of coruscant, the seat of power of the republic, in her final golden hour.

but even as you admired the beauty of the city-planet, you knew there was a beauty more divine than that of naboo and of coruscant and of the whole inner rim combined: and he was standing before you in the gardens of the jedi temple,wielding his lightsaber in preparation for the mission he was to depart on come morning. his auburn hair fell into his slightly freckled face, into his beautiful blue eyes that shone like a thousand stars, as he moved. his jedi robes had been laid upon a stone bench, discarded in the heat of training, leaving him in nothing but his dark trousers tucked into his leather boots, and a black, sleeveless undershirt. the shirt revealed his freckled shoulders and muscular arms as he swung his saber in arcs about him, and the sun seemed to both seep into his skin like honey and glow upon touching the lovely freckles surface. every part of him was awash in gold as the sun kissed his skin and danced about his beard and hair, turning the auburn strands into warm, roughspun gold.

he was beautiful in all that he was, strong and dedicated and driven by peace and focus, as a high ranking jedi master and general should be. he was a honeyed, shining golden in the brilliant sun. and he was all yours.

obi-wan.

then, in a moment he had turned to face you, his lightsaber spinning in a wide, elegant arc until the hilt came to a halt by his head, the end of the saber outstretched, opposing hand pointing directly at you. those beautiful blue eyes that you so dearly loved seemed to shine with the light of a thousand stars as his gaze met yours. a smile immediately lifted the corners of his lips. he hurriedly began to make his way towards you, dropping the saber to his side, the blade withdrawing into nothingness as he forged his way through the gardens.

‘darling!’

the endearment was almost a sigh of relief, of comfortability, as it passed his sweet lips and graced your ears with its soft tenor and lilt of his elegant coruscanti accent.

he clipped his lightsaber to the leather utility belt about his hips, before taking your face in his hands and placing his lips gently on yours. his thumbs traced delicate circles on your cheeks, and you felt him smile into the kiss as your heated blush rose to meet his touch. he smelled of his soaps and colognes, of his soft linens, of the garden, of him, of home and you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss happily.

panic filled your heart as you suddenly pulled away from him, hands delicately wrapping around his forearms, as you tried reluctantly to pull out of the kiss that had you falling faster and faster into his lovely orbit.

‘obi-wan! someone might see!’

obi-wan's eyes turned soft, the stars in his eyes dimming only so his love could shine through. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, and while you were still worried about being caught kissing a jedi, risking everything obi-wan had ever known, you couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, into his touch. your hands, significantly smaller and more delicate than his, slid gently up his bare arms to cover his as they continued to caress circles upon circles of his love into your skin.

‘don’t worry, sweetling,’ he murmured, the words gentle against your forehead as they graced the space-though it was limited-between you two. ‘there’s no presence but yours for at least the next several hundred yards.’

it was true. what with the galactic war, the jedi order had been spread thin. even the jedi council hadn’t had a meeting at which all members were present for months; or at least that was what obi-wan told you in the quiet hours of the night in which he returned, from long days of maintaining the order of the galaxy, to his chambers-to the image of you tucked delicately beneath his linens or your silks. those were the hours before his words turned sugary sweet and more intimate and began to accompany a plethora of gentle kisses.

obi-wan, being the powerful jedi he was, would be able to sense the presence of another being as they moved through the force; and if he was comfortable enough to bring you close and pepper your face with butterfly-like kisses, then you supposed you could allow yourself to relax into his touch.

‘and as lovely as your presence is, darling,’ obi-wan began, his callouses gentle against your skin as he moved to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. ‘whatever are you doing at the jedi temple?’

‘i was sent on official business by senator amidala,’ you said, raising your chin into the air haughtily, a note of pride taking hold in your voice.

‘and what might your business be, my lady,’ obi-wan said, drawing ever near as his hands drifted down your arms and the elegant silks sleeves of your dress until his fingers found and wove themselves between yours. his thumbs continued their circular escapades on the surface of your skin-which you now realized was growing just as honeyed as his in the afternoon light.

you’ve bewitched me, master kenobi.

‘to admire and oversee the activities of a certain jedi master who’s lovely presence i will miss dearly after he leaves my side to go hunt down clues of the sith and of battleships and criminals on somefar off planet,’ you said, admiring the way the deepening wrinkles at his eyes gathered beautifully as a smile grew upon his lips-those soft, pillowy lips that you could drown in forever.

‘admiring a jedi?’ obi-wan laughed heartily, the sound of it rich and loving against your ears. ‘on such sacred grounds as these? you must have some courage, darling.’

‘if i remember correctly, master kenobi,’ you hummed happily, his title and reputation falling sweet like rose petals from your lips, ‘it was you who just kissed me on such ‘sacred grounds.’’

and there he was, again, leaning in close, slanting his lips against yours as though it would be the last time he would get the chance to kiss you, to take your breath away with such a simple action, to make your heart melt beneath his gentle touch--like he needed the constant reassurance of your kiss to weather the cruelties of a galaxy at war. and when he pulled away, absolute adoration lingered there in his baby blue eyes, as though stars had imploded along the lines of your lips as he kissed you, and their stardust had collected in his shining blue irises so that they may always remember your beauty and the stars that danced about your skin like little shadows.

‘my stars, darling,’ he sighed, ‘i would kiss you for eternity if it meant the first thing i would see when my lips parted forms yours was the sweet beauty of your face. i would kiss you for an eternity and longer if it meant i got to be in your lovely presence for always and forever.’

‘obi-wan, love, you’re making it really hard not to dread your departure already,’ you sighed, pouting ever so slightly in the way that you knew would pull at obi-wan’s heartstrings.

‘don’t worry, little one. i’ll come back to you, whole and in need of your sweet kisses,’ obi-wan hummed, pressing another kiss to your forehead. ‘and it just so happens that i have been relieved of my duties for tonight to ready myself for the mission.’

‘and what might that preparation include, master kenobi,’ you asked teasingly, and watching him preen under your endearment. his station was something to be proud of, to have worked so hard, to have come from nothing and to now be a jedi master and general, and the best negotiator and diplomat the order had. he embodied all the code stood for: compassion, patience, discipline. and you knew that deep down, somewhere, hidden away with his immense love for you was a mild sense of pride at all he accomplished-though he would never let it show.

‘i was thinking of spending my time with a handmaiden i rather enjoy the presence of--a handmaiden i have formed quite the attachment to.’

‘she must be a very lucky woman then, to have the affections of someone as accomplished and as endearing as you.’

‘oh, but i am the luckiest man in the galaxy to love her and call her mine.’

your heart swelled at his words. his?

obi-wan leaned down to kiss you once more, this time his hands finding purchase in the cotton and silk that made up the back of your dress, splaying themselves about your back as though he were cradling you ever closer to his chest in an almost protective manner.

‘yes, darling.’ he managed in between the soft pillowy kisses he pressed to your lips, the tip of your nose, your cheeks and forehead, any part of you he could reach with those wonderful lips of his. ‘all mine.’

your hands rested against his chest, the thin material of his undershirt allowing you to feel the muscle which rippled beneath his beautifully freckled skin from years dedicated to his training and to the order. the fabric was soft as your fingers trailed down his chest, to his hips where the cool metal of his saber kissed your fingers.

‘teach me,’ you murmured, lips brushing against obi-wan’s as the words left your lips. confusion drew his eyebrows together, a small crease forming between them in a way you couldn’t help but adore.

‘teach you what, sweetling?’ he asked, voice velvety and soft against your ears.

‘teach me how to use a lightsaber.’

a smile took over those soft lips you so dearly loved, and a laugh erupted in the evening air. he was beautiful when he laughed, color painting his cheeks and his hair falling out of his face as he leaned his head back in his laughter. you would’ve admired the lovely sound and the way his eyes wrinkled at the corners had your words not been cause for it.

‘why are you laughing at me? i’ve fought to protect senator amidala on many occasions with both a blaster and vibroblades. why not a lightsaber? or did you forget i’ve been trained in close combat as well, master kenobi.’

‘i never said no, darling,’ obi-wan sighed, coming down from his laughter to press a gentle hand to your cheek, thumb tracing circles into your skin. ‘however, the thought of you with such civilized technology is quite a fearsome one indeed.’

‘please, obi-wan?’

obi-wan’s gaze softened, knowing in his heart that you meant too much to him to deny you any one of your many requests.

‘i suppose,’ he sighed, worry mingling with the warmth in his crystal blue gaze, as he begged of you, ‘just promise me you’ll be careful. i hate to even think about harm coming to you, much less see you harmed by my weapon and under my supervision.’

‘i promise.’

its then that his fingers find the palm of your hand, guiding it into his strong, calloused, yet gentle grasp, as he pulls you from the sanctuary of the temple and into the wild delicacy of the gardens. a soft click sounds and the cool metal of obi-wan’s saber kisses the tips of your fingers as he pulls you close and presses the saber into your delicate hands. he wraps your fingers around the hilt, and raises your hand to kiss your knuckles, his beard tickling the skin there.

‘this weapon is dangerous as it is beautiful, darling. do you understand?’

‘yes, my love.’

he pulls you into the clearing in the center of the gardens, stone tiles sturdy beneath your feet. soon his figure is wrapped around your, your back pressed firmly against the strong musculature of his chest as his strong, star-freckled arms wrap around your own, guiding your hands and body into a stance he deemed worthy of training in.

‘you must always be aware of your body in position to your saber,’ he explained, his voice low in its velvety depth as he buried his lips in your hair, the top of your head grazing his delicate cheekbones. ‘you must always be aware and precise in your movements. one wrong move could prove fatal.’

as much as you wanted to focus on his words, his close proximity was very distracting. the heady, musk of him overwhelmed your sense in the most pleasantly soft manner, and the delicate brush of his skin against yours was enough to set your nerves alight in blissful agony. you wanted to melt into him, to meld into the softness of his heart, the warmth of his being and voice. there was so much of him that you loved, and it was just so close… he was just so close.

‘focus your thoughts, darling,’ he chuckled sweetly, the deep tenor of his voice rumbling softly in his chest as he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, into the softness of your hair.

‘sorry,’ you said sheepishly. sometimes you forgot just how strong his connection with the force was, and how he could read you like an open book. of course, you’d given him permission to do so--convincing him that you were okay with having his loving presence in your consciousness, that it wasn’t an invasion of your privacy. you had had to convince him that having his warmth in the corners of your mind was one of the most comforting feelings you’d ever known, that is wasn’t a burden or an overreach or a breach of your trust.

‘it’s okay, sweet one,’ he hums sweetly. ‘just focus on my movements.’

his hands wrapped around yours, pressing them into the hilt as he tilted the end of it away from you. blue light filled your field of vision as he ignited it.

‘this is called a low guard. it's a good place to start dueling, as you can move any which way from this position’ obi-wan explained, the passion for his practice and the dedication to his order seeping into the softness of his voice, turning the tone sweeter than honey. ‘focus on fluidity, and precision, darling. yes, perfect. now bring it down to your side, and up in an arc.’

obi-wan’s praise was enough to send your head spinning, and your heart reeling with contentment. there was nowhere else in the whole galaxy you wanted to be than in obi-wan kenobi’s arms, the callousness and softness of his hands pressed firmly into your own as he guided your hand down into a steep arc before bringing it down to the opposite side. his arm crossed over your body in a way that was reminiscent of the way he would wrap his arms languidly about your waist so as to hug you in the way he loved to in the early hours of the morning in which the two of you woke in the others chambers as the sun’s rays just began to kiss the clouds high above. your heart fluttered like a thousand butterflies pushing against the limits of your lungs in a campaign for freedom-a freedom to press your face into his chest, to give him a kiss for every star-freckled blemish upon his skin.

‘and that would be a basic defensive maneuver,’ he hummed, interrupting your wandering thoughts before guiding you through the motion a couple times to work it into your muscle memory. his tutelage continued on like this until the sky was only lit by the last remnants of the sunset.

‘let me try,’ you whispered into the small space between you. he let go, his skin leaving its precious contact with yours as your nerves almost screamed for him to come back.

you tried some of the maneuvers on your own, getting a feeling for the balance of the elegant weapon in your own hands. it was similar to its dagger analog, a defensive art you had learned upon padme’s admission into the senate. a smirk pulled at the side of your lips as an idea formed in your mind. just beware of the blade, obi wasn’t voice echoed in your memory.

quickly, you began the maneuver, turning around and wielding the blade in a flourishing so that it came to rest by your head in the way obi-wan had done upon your arrival to the jedi gardens.

mild panic and pride mixed beautifully in obi-wan’s face, pulling at it in ways that gently tugged at the light wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. obi-wan would be lying if he said that his heart did not jump into his throat in fear that something would go wrong, that you would hurt yourself in your playfulness. however, when he saw you, alive and unscathed, pride gleaming in your eyes as the flourish put him in a position that would’ve won you a battle, he couldn't have been more proud of you-his love wielding his lightsaber as if it was what you were born to do.

‘how’s my form, master kenobi?’ mischief dripped from your words, his title slipping off your honeyed tongue so elegantly that it elicited a delicate warmth in his chest, and a heated redness to his cheeks.

with a flick of his finger, the blade disappeared into the hilt, into nothingness, under his deft manipulation of the force, before he reached for you, pulling your small, delicate form into his. his arms wrapped around you, the silks and chiffons of your simple dress kissing his arms as he pulled you into him and placed his lips sweetly-albeit a little forcefully-in a kiss that melted both your heart and his own.

‘and when i thought you possibly occupy and melt any more of my heart, you’ve found a way to prove me wrong.’ he hummed into the small space between you, the vibrations and soft brushes of the suppleness of his lips delicate and heartwarming against yours

his heart felt as though it collapsed like a dying star before being reborn again as you buried your face into the warmth of his chest, his exposed skin soft against yours. one hand found purchase among the soft strands of the hair at the back of your head, as the other wrapped around your waist and pulled you ever closer against him. he pressed yet another kiss to your forehead, pushing his feeling of pride and love to you through the force.

‘it was utterly perfect, darling,’ he hummed sweetly, before pulling you from his chest and reclaiming his lightsaber from your deadly, yet delicate hands. ‘i knew you would be a terrifying force to be reckoned with, but i didn’t know you would look so beautiful doing it.’

at that, your heart swelled with pride, a smile tugging at your lips and a blush rising to consume your cheeks and tips of your ears. obi-wan couldn’t help but smile down at you-- the warmth which radiated from your heart and your soul and into the force for him to perceive was too sweet not to.

‘oh, obi-wan,’ you sighed, ‘i don’t deserve your kind words.’

‘you deserve the universe and more,’ obi-wan cooed, his delicate touch finding its way to your heated cheek as he moved to cradle it in his large, gentle palm, heart melting as tears of pure happiness stung your eyes as you melted into his touch. ‘my high praise is the least you deserve.’

‘obi-wan, will you spend the night with me? or can i spend the night with you? i don’t believe i can bare to part with you right now.’

‘i wouldn’t miss the chance to be in your lovely presence for the whole corellian system, darling.’ obi-wan hummed, thumb tracing its familiar patterns once more.

‘obi-wan,’ his name was soft-barely a whisper- on our tongue as you said it: the name of the jedi master you loved so dearly. ‘must you make it so very unbearable to part from you every time the war leads you away from coruscant… away from me?’

obi-wan’s gaze softened into sadnesses he dropped his gaze to his hands as they moved to hold yours, to feel their softness once more. he knew you missed him when he had to leave on these missions and risk their unknown circumstances. he dreaded the moment when he finally boarded the transport, slipping out of your sight as you watched from some hidden place in the jedi temple or the senate buildings. he could feel the pain your heart brought you in those moments as it radiated through the force. he would do anything to kiss away the tears that would form in worry at the corners of your eyes, to comfort you in his warm embrace, to wrap you up in his cloak and hold you close for eternity.

but he couldn’t. the many walls of steel, glass and space that separated you from him were too great to physically abound. so instead he would send you a sweet message of comfort over your commlinks, and press his thoughts and feelings into the back of his mind, into the depths of his heart. he would miss you, but his feelings would always act as his motivation, and he would always come back to you. obi-wan had lost so many people in his own life. he would never willingly put you through that pain of losing him. so he would fight valiantly and efficiently, cutting down the enemy or gathering intel in the manner that would certainly return him to you in the quickest and safest manner possible.

‘i promise i don’t do it willingly, my sweet’ he sighed, his voice soft and as comforting as he possibly could--though you didn’t miss the note of sadness that lined the edges of his words. gently, his hands pulled you close to him, so that there was barely any space between the two of you. one left your grasp to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with great care and delicacy before resting his forehead against yours. your eyes fluttered shut in tandem with his, as to let the soft sensation of him so close to you overwhelm your senses.

and then his voice was warm and pleasant as it formed in your mind, as clear as your own.

i swear to you, my darling, for every time i leave you behind, i will always come back to you. i will not leave you alone in this galaxy by yourself. not ever.

your eyes fluttered open at the formation of the words, only to find his beautiful blue eyes staring sweetly into yours, into your heart.

‘and i’ll always be waiting for you upon your return, my love.’

‘i know, darling,’ he hummed graciously. ‘i know.’

and then, as the sun’s rays faded and the dark of night began to set in, in the safety and sanctuary of the verdant gardens about you, obi-wan kenobi kissed you, soft and sweet as his hands found the curvature of your cheek and the warmth of your body with his own. he kissed you, stardust dancing about your lips at his gentle caresses, in the safety of the gardens, where no one could separate you from him, where he could show you a small fraction of his love for you without the burden of the galaxy’s prying eyes.

‘what do you say i gather my things aboard the transport, and i’ll meet you in your chambers in, say-half an hour?’ he hummed, brownish auburn eyebrows tilting upwards as he gazed lovingly into your eyes, asking for your permission to occupy your time with his own sweet and lovely presence.

‘i’d like that very much,’ you smiled, revelling in the way a boyish grin covered his now slightly swollen lips. he parted from you to gather his robes hurriedly before returning to your side, to press three quick kisses, to your cheek, your forehead and, finally, your lips.

‘half an hour, then, my darling.’

and sure enough, there he was, standing in your doorway half an hour later, ready to scoop you up in his strong arms and spin you about with pure, love-filled elation. his lips would cover your face, your neck and collarbones, your shoulders-anywhere his lips could find the sweet pleasure of your soft exposed skin.

and for the rest of the night, he was yours-nuzzling his face into the comforts of your stomach as he cuddled into you, wrapping his arms around you in the most loving way, kissing you like you were the oxygen in his lungs, the blood in his veins, and the stardust which made up his being.

and when he left on the transport the next morning, your heart ached at the loving smile that pulled at his lips when his eyes met yours. and somehow you knew, all would be alright, that he would return to you in three-cycle’s time to kiss you and love you all over again.

i will come back to you, my lovely darling. i promise

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan #obi wan #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #star wars #star wars prequels #attack of the clones #revenge of the sith #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #obi wan imagine #obi-wan fluff #obi-wan fanfic

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 3 years

Text

Calculated Risk (Anakin x Reader)

Author’s Note: Here’s the Anakin fic I said was coming out today! Don’t worry, this one is all fluff after the last angst one I posted haha. I hope you guys enjoy! And as always, my tag list/ask box/requests are always open! Thanks so much!

Requested?: Yes, by @cluelessgurl - “I’d love to see a jedi reader coming to Anakin’s rescue during a battle, even though he felt like he didn’t need it but being grateful anyway, just the reader being badass basically lmao. That doesn’t mean the reader doesn’t get a scolding from Anakin after the mission though with some fluff of course.”

Summary: You swoop into battle to help your crush, Anakin, who has vehemently denied the need for any back-up on his mission.

Calculated Risk

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: None, I don’t think!

“Ready to report a status update.” Anakin’s voice crackles to life on a hologram behind you. Out of curiosity, you turn to see Obi-Wan talking to Anakin.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan prompts, raising an eyebrow. You drift over to Obi-Wan’s side, ignoring the glance he gives you as you train your eyes on Anakin. Yes, you have a crush on Anakin. But it’s not like he actually likes you back, so it’s no big deal.

“A small droid army has intercepted us and we are working our way through,” Anakin says, and you hear blaster shots firing all around him.

“Do you need...help?” Obi-Wan asks, hearing a few grunts from clones who are getting shot.

“Oh, no, we’re fine. I’ve got this mission completely under control, don’t even worry about it.” Anakin chuckles, refusing help a little too much. You and Obi-Wan give each other a knowing glance.

“Anakin, we can easily send a squad-”

“Obi-Wan, I assure you, I can handle this myself. Ahsoka’s here, too, and she would say the same thing. Right, Ahsoka?” Anakin calls out.

“Master, we need your help over here! There’s too many of them!” Ahsoka’s voice comes ‘off-screen’ from the hologram.

“See? We’re doing just fine on our own. Gotta go!” Anakin quickly ends the transmission.

Obi-Wan turns to you, clearly still not convinced by Anakin’s antics.

“It’s obvious that he needs a little help, but he refuses to call in more troops. If I send in reinforcements behind his back, he won’t be happy about it.” Obi-Wan grumbles.

“When has Anakin being grumpy ever held you back?” You laugh.

“Well-”

“What if I could offer a compromise?” You interject again, actually happier with your plan than what Obi-Wan wants to do.

“And what do you suggest we do instead?” He lifts an eyebrow at you and folds his arms. You have a habit of getting into trouble just like Anakin, so he probably doesn’t trust your ideas too often.

“Send me.” You grin triumphantly at him.

“Send...you?” He repeats back slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. It’s not a no, so you continue to explain yourself.

“I’m one of the best Jedi Knights, even you can’t deny that. I can be reinforcements. But I’m still not a squad being dispatched to him so he can’t be mad because you didn’t technically ‘send reinforcements.’” You smirk, knowing you’ve outwitted Anakin. Obi-Wan sighs, but you see the small smile he’s trying to hide.

“You have a fair point...and Anakin is always happy to see you, so he won’t be upset that you’ve been sent.” Obi-Wan thinks out loud.

“What?”

“I’m...gonna go now.” You murmur, still not sure if you heard him correctly.

“Okay, stay safe. And...keep Anakin out of trouble, please.” He sighs. You grin wickedly at him.

“You’re telling me that?” You ask.

“That’s true, you egg on his antics... Still, you know the difference between reckless stupidity and calculated risks that need to be taken.” He groans, motioning for you to leave already.

“Sure, Obi-Wan. I’ll see you once I save Anakin and complete the mission!” You laugh, running to the hangar. You climb into your speeder and take off from the cruiser, headed toward Anakin.

~+~

Upon your arrival on the planet, an imperial bomber greets you. You try to maneuver your ship around the blast, but unfortunately, it takes out one of your wings and your speeder starts to go down.

As the ship plummets to the ground, you (as gracefully as possible) flip out of the top of it and land on a nearby rock, not too far from the battle. You watch as your ship makes contact with the ground and blows up. Sigh, you suppose you’ll have to take a ship back with the others.

You slide down the rock you’re currently on and join in the battle, taking down droids as you fight your way to Anakin and his crew.

You spot Anakin fighting near Ahsoka, getting pushed back by the sheer amount of droids trying to overwhelm them. That’s the thing about the empire. They may not have good fighters, but they had a lot of them.

“Anakin!” You call, flinging your lightsaber like a boomerang through the sea of droids. You call it back to your hand with the force and find that you have successfully cleared a path to Anakin. You decide to take your chance while you have it and run to him.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” Anakin grunts, still fighting off droids. You deflect a blaster shot that was aimed at him while he’s preoccupied.

“Helping you, duh.” You make a face, jumping into battle next to him. The two of you work flawlessly together, making quick work of the droids.

“I said I didn’t need reinforcements.” He sighs.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not reinforcements. I just came here to see you, of course.” You wink at him, taking down another entire line of droids. Anakin watches in almost-awe as you fight off the droids, much more efficient than the rest of his crew, and maybe even him. He’d never admit that, though.

He watches you do a backflip over a droid, slicing it straight through the middle as you land behind it. This elicits a chuckle from his lips.

“Always one to put on a show, huh?” He smirks, glancing over at you as if he wasn’t just staring.

“Only if I care who’s watching,” You flirt, giving him a quick smile as the two of you fall back into sync.

It’s only a moment later when you speak again.

“Bend down,” You tell him.

“What?”

“Bend down.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!” You groan. Does he always have to question you? You never question his antics.

“Fine!” He crouches down and slashes at the feet of droids for a moment. You grin wickedly and use his back as a stepping stone, propelling yourself forward as you slice straight through a line of at least five droids.

“Gotcha!” You laugh, continuing to have fun despite being in the midst of a battle. Anakin shakes his head at you, but you see the small smile gracing his face.

“Always so dramatic with your fighting,” He tsks.

“Says Anakin Skywalker, the man who always has to have a dramatic entrance.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment.

“...Touché.”

~+~

Once the battle is over, you look over to Anakin who had made his way across the battlefield while fighting. He’s walking over to you, and he doesn’t look quite happy.

“Before you get mad-” But before you can even finish your sentence, he roughly grabs your wrist and yanks you over to the side of the group that was forming to get ready to leave.

He lets go of you and turns around to look at you, his eyes scanning all over your body. You suddenly feel slightly self-conscious.

“Um...Anakin? Are you checking me out?” You try to tease, but your words seem more shy than bold like you intended.

“Checking you out for injuries, yes.” He huffs, but you see a slight blush rise to his cheeks, making you feel a little bit triumphant for at least a small victory.

“We have a medic for that.” You muse, growing bolder now that you know you’re not the only one slightly flustered.

“I know but- you could’ve gotten hurt, (Y/n). Why did you come out here?” He seems slightly distressed even after he concludes that you definitely didn’t get any injuries.

“I came to...help? Didn’t you hear me when I arrived?”

“I didn’t need the help-”

“Anakin I was literally here. I fought the battle, too, and I saw how many enemies there were. You needed the help.”

“I...I didn’t want it to be you, though.”

You’re hurt by his words. Your brows furrow and you start to turn away from him. If he’s going to be like that, then you’ll just leave. You don’t have to put up with this.

“No, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…” He grabs your upper arm to stop you. He rubs the back of his neck nervously as you turn to look back at him.

“How did you mean it, then?” You hum skeptically.

“I...I just worry about you, that’s all. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me, I wouldn’t be able to take the guilt.” He murmurs, much quieter than he was before. You turn back to face him fully again, stepping just slightly closer to him than you were earlier. His face is downcast to the floor.

“Why?” You ask him, tilting his head up to meet your eye.

“I like you.” He blurts out. This makes your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t think he’d be so...blunt with it.

But once again, before you can continue he tries to explain himself further.

“I like you, (Y/n), and I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. I wanted to handle myself so that you...well, you wouldn’t have to come down here and you’d be impressed by me getting it done all by myself.” He explains, almost rambling at this point. You put a finger to his lips, successfully shutting him up.

“Ani, I’m already impressed by you every day. You don’t need to take on an entire droid army to impress me, but I do appreciate the thought.” You giggle, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. You see his face flush again and you smile at the thought of making him feel this way.

You see movement in the background and you look behind Anakin to see some boxes shifting slightly to block the two of you off from the rest of the group.

“What are you doing?” You ask Anakin, knowing that he’s definitely using the force to do that.

“Just moving some boxes in the way of prying eyes so I can do this.” You don’t have time to react before his lips are on yours. You kiss him back eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist.

Once the two of you pull apart for air, there’s a goofy grin on both your faces.

“I was wondering when that was going to happen,” You giggle.

“We’ll have to keep this a secret from the Order.” Anakin breathes out, the smile not leaving his face as he takes your features in from up this close.

“I’m willing to take the risk.” You smile at him, kissing him again. He melts into your touch.

“Good, because I am, too.” He kisses you one last time. You finally break away from each other, knowing that staying here too long would cause suspicion.

“See you on the ship, Anakin.” You wink at him and walk toward the boxes, shifting them back with the force as you join the group again.

Anakin trails behind a bit, a dumbstruck look still on his face. You’d tell him to be more subtle, but it’s only Anakin’s squad of clones and you know they wouldn’t say anything. That, and it’s too cute for you to ruin.

Obi-Wan was right about you being the one to take calculated risks that you deemed worth it, and you’ve never been more sure about anything: Anakin is a calculated risk that is more than worth it.

~~~~~

Tags: @spideyboipete @rowley-with-ackerman @official-hitmxn @anakinlove

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coexiising · 3 years

Text

Fade Into You - Chapter Three

SUMMARY ✦ You learn the truth about Lord Vader & disobey the Council's orders.

WARNING(S) ✦ choking (in a non sexual way)

MASTERLIST ✦ Here.

The cup of tea placed in your hands had long run cold as you still sat in the middle of the ring of Jedi Masters. The Corscuanti sun was starting to peek just along the horizon, illuminating the room more and more with each passing second. It was easy to feel the tension in the room, thick enough to cut with a knife while every single Master kept their eyes on you, the only stop in their gaze was when they blinked.

You weren’t sure how long you’ve been sitting here for under their watchful gaze, like they thought you were going to spontaneously combust or crack under the pressure. You thought that this was supposed to be the moment they told you everything. It wasn’t hard to notice that they were obviously keeping something big from you. Whoever this person was . . . Vader, he was something (or much rather, a Sith) that they knew about. But why were they keeping it a secret from the rest of the Order? Why would they keep something so dangerous like a new Sith a secret, when it was clear that there was something going on deep within the shadows of the Force.

You almost wanted to say something. Being in this silence was deafening in the worst way imaginable. Luckily, it seemed as though Obi-Wan had taken pity on you, and opened his mouth to say, “Well, should we get on with it?” The man looked tired, obviously having been woken up by your screams not even an hour ago. “She’s shaking.” Which you were, for the record, though you weren’t sure if it was because of their stares or the fact that you haven’t been getting much sleep in the past couple of days that you felt as though you were on the verge of collapse.

The droid who gave you the cup earlier came around again and refilled it. You attempted to settle your nerves by taking a sip of the warm drink.

“Keeping secrets, we have,” Master Yoda stated, his small green hand gesturing towards you. He sat within eyesight, so you could see the curiosity in his face. “But this connection . . . See, we did not.”

You looked at him quizzically. “What kind of connection are you talking about?”

“It is certain that the Force has drawn you and this Sith together, for what reason, we do not know,” Master Windu said. “Force wielders always have heightened dreams, but the fact that you are being connected to someone with such a dark power, it is troubling. We have to ask, have you been using the dark side of the Force, Knight Y/N?”

What, were you on trial now? Was this all just an elaborate game to try and get you to confess to something you weren’t even guilty of? You were a Jedi, bound to the light side of the Force and sworn to the Order, why would you ever even think about leaning towards the dark side of the Force? You were almost offended that he was asking, and that all the other Masters were listening intently, as though they were waiting for some kind of confession of guilt. You wished that this would all be over, you wanted things to go back to normal, before Vader, before everything.

“No, I haven’t been using the dark side of the Force, Master,” Your last word digging in rather harshly as your attention moved to the spot Windu sat. “Like I said before, I don’t know why these things are happening to me. I don’t know how I could’ve formed this connection with this ‘Vader.’ I haven’t even met him!” You tried not to scowl, because as much as you wished you could, Master Windu was still your superior.

“What does he say to you in these dreams. Does he ever mention a place?” Master Plo-Koon asks.

Your thoughts take you back to what Vader said about meeting him on Mustafar. If you told them that, then maybe they would send a team there and this would all be over with. Then everything would go back to the way things used to be. And you wanted that, though, you could feel yourself beginning to pull back from the idea. For some reason, it felt wrong for you to tell them what Vader had said, like you would be betraying him in some way. It astonished you, how you were thinking of reasons not to give away the location of a Sith. It was so unlike you, but everything about this was crazy. Which is why you looked down at your cup, your eyes watching a tiny tea leaf dance around in the water as you said, “No. He never said anything like that.”

You were waiting for one of them to catch you in the lie, though when you looked back up at the gazes of the Masters, they all seemed quite relaxed, like they didn’t even notice the quivering in your voice. Lying for a Sith . . . Perhaps it was the dark side after all.

“It took some strength to talk to him. But when I did, he said that he wasn’t influencing anything,” You said.

You heard Master Windu chuckle. “Well, he was certainly lying. How else could it have been formed? That doesn’t even make sense. If it wasn’t you, it had to be him.”

“Master, I don’t think that he was lying,” You told. “He never even tried to harm me-”

“A Sith is not to be trusted, Y/N,” He said. And maybe he was right. You probably sounded crazy trying to defend Vader.

Master Mundi sighed. “Still, we owe you an explanation. We knew that there was a presence of a new Sith for some time now. And with some of our sources in the Outer Rim, we’ve heard whispers of the name Vader. Only, we didn’t want to tell anyone until we were certain that there was something to tell. Now, with the presence of your dreams, it seems like it is now certain that we are dealing with another Sith.”

Another moment of silence fell upon you and the group of Jedi, not knowing what to say. You didn’t know if you were to be angry or to simply let it slide. Instead, you simply said, “Well, what do you think I should do about the dreams?” You would need to sleep at some point, and you didn’t feel like waking up a screaming mess every time that you attempted to get at least a few hours.

And the Masters all started talking, though not to you, amongst themselves. You could scream at the sheer annoyance of all of it, how they always did that. They always talked like you weren’t in the room with them, like you didn’t get a say on whatever they thought was right. Of course you understood that there was a hierarchy here, but it didn’t stop you from getting angry that these people had authority over you sometimes. It felt like an eternity of them talking, you silent and attention drifting off to other points in the room, then suddenly they all seemed to come to some type of conclusion.

You raised your eyebrow to say ‘well, what is it, then?’

“We want you to stay as far away from this Sith as possible. Obviously we cannot have control over your dreams, but do not engage him. And you will be staying at the Temple where you are safe. We do not know if this Sith will try and get you with him,” Master Obi-Wan told you. You looked at the ground, realizing that this meant you wouldn’t be allowed to go on any missions. It wasn’t ideal, especially with the Clone Wars raging on. You wanted to be where you were best: Bringing peace to the Galaxy. Though there was no arguing with the Council. They had made their decision and you had to live with it.

A few other words were passed until you were being ushered out of the room towards the elevator that led you back down to the center of the Temple. It was still early in the morning, there was no one in the hall when you stepped out into it and you could still feel the Force Signatures of several sleeping Jedi. You stopped in the middle of the hallway. To your left was your room, where you had been instructed to go to meditate before you started your day like usual. But to your right was the way to the hangar, where you could easily get onto a ship and get to the bottom of things on your own terms, knowing the exact location where the Sith was.

No. You had been specifically told to not engage the Sith at all. And that had been just in your dreams . . . It would be far worse if you were actually in the same place as him. But as much as you wanted to turn and go towards your room, it was as though the Force was pushing you the other way. It wanted you to go see him, as though you were both magnets trying to connect. You should be more scared at the fact that the Force, something unknown and completely under researched by even the most powerful of Jedi, was trying to get you to meet such a mysterious powerful man. Still, you felt a sense of calm wash over you thinking about going to Mustafar to see him. Maybe that was what you needed to do, maybe the second you met with him all of this could get figured out.

At least, you hoped.

So you started towards the right, making your way down the large hallways still huddled over in your large brown blanket. You made inventory in your head, knowing that there would be supplies of food rations and anything else needed for basic survival, and you already had your lightsaber clipped to your utility belt that you carried everywhere. In no time you were walking into the hangar, lines of different models of ships awaited you, and there were only a few clone workers that you knew wouldn’t even question as to why you were here.

You settled for a smaller ship, one you had worked with before that was fairly easy to pilot. After all, Coruscant was situated near the Deep Core of the Galaxy, where Mustafar was in the Outer Rim. The quality of your ship's hyperdrive engine was in good condition, so hopefully you would get far enough away before any suspicions of where you had gone arose. Though, thinking back to what information you gave away to the Council, they didn’t even know where you were headed.

You hopped on the ship and started the engine. No one even batted an eye.

It was a long journey before you were in the atmosphere of Mustafar, looking for a place to land your ship where it wouldn’t be enveloped in the lava. It was all too familiar of your dreamworld, meaning that this had to be the place that Vader and you had met, only, you didn’t see the building built of obsidian. Your bottom lip was situated between your teeth, eyes scanning the area for any sign of life or structures of some kind. You knew that there had to be something, Mustafar used to be an old mining colony of the Republic before the lava got too dangerous. It was considered abandoned, which seemed like the perfect place for a Sith to take residence in.

Just as you were about to call it quits, go on your way back to Coruscant and make up some excuse to the Council on where you have been all this time, you saw a black building in the distance. It was not much a building and more of a castle, standing tall on the top of a mountain, smoldering lava pooling at the bottom like a moat. There. That’s where he had to be. You could feel it.

It was a swift landing and soon enough you were on your feet again, making your way towards the large stairs that went up from the landing platform. Your heel touched the first one and you heard footsteps behind you. Unsheathing your lightsaber and igniting it, you turned swinging, your blade clashing with a dark red beam that could only belong to one person.

“Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?”

His voice was smooth like molasses but dark, making your heartrate pick up when you were certain that it was Vader standing before you, real this time. You weren’t protected by parsecs between you two anymore. He walked backwards, lightsaber still pointed at you just as you were doing to him. Now that you could see the Sith with your own two eyes, you realized that he was even more breathtaking in person. Vader’s honeyed locks were something to marvel at in itself, curling on his forehead and at the nape of his neck, if you didn’t know any better you would’ve liked to run your fingers through it. His golden Sith eyes were intimating in person, but you almost felt a sense of comfort in them. Overall, you felt calm despite being at the end of a red lightsaber.

“You’re not a friend, Sith,” You spoke, keeping your guard up. “I’m only here to know why we’re connected. The Council seems to think that you’re lying to me.”

Vader laughed. “Your Council is useless. Why would I feel the need to connect myself with a Jedi. I have more important things to attend to.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure you do. What could you possibly be doing on a planet like this?” You rolled your eyes, not falling for that for a second. “It could be valuable to be connected to someone who is in the Order. Then you could gain the upper hand in anything the Republic does.”

“Enough with the bravado, why do you think that you’re that important?” Vader asked, eyebrow raising up. You stood there dumbfounded, not knowing how to answer such a question. “They let you come here, didn’t they? Into the hands of a Sith? Maybe they don’t care about you at all, they’re too wrapped up in their silly little war.”

“I came on my own accord,” You said.

His eyes widened, a smirk coming on his face. “So you went against the wishes of your precious Council? How strange . . .” You watched his gaze go from your face to your body, as if he was sizing you up. You stiffened, not knowing how to act under his watchful eyes, shivering at the way he licked his lips. “That means they don’t know where you are, am I correct?”

You nodded, knowing that there was no reason to lie. “I seem to remember you saying that I could trust you, Sith-”

“Vader.” He interjected.

“Sith.” You pressed on.

“Lord Vader.”

You laughed at his insistence, wondering how he thought that you would ever call him such a thing. He took a step forward and you took one back, continuing this until you could feel hard rock press into your back. You were cornered by him, the only thing separating the two of you was your lightsaber which you didn’t dare move. “You said that I could trust you,” You told him. “Put down your weapon so we can get to the bottom of this and I’ll be on my way.”

A tiny chuckle fell past his lips. “What makes you think that you have the upper hand in this?”

You didn’t respond, your eyes darting from his golden ones to his saber, waiting for him to do as you asked. Tentatively, he set his lightsaber on the ground, and you watched as the red hue of it went back into the hilt. You did the same, unlighting it and dropping it to the ground near his. Neither of you made a move and you didn’t dare say anything, knowing that the smallest thing may set him off.

For a moment you almost thought that this could work, that you two could work together in peace. That was until you felt a Force pull you towards him, one of Vader’s gloved hands finding its way to your neck, keeping you in his grasp. His fingers pressed against the side of your throat, restricting some of the air you attempted to suck in. You kicked and punched, trying to get him to let you go, but he didn’t. Instead he walked forward and backed you into the wall again, this time his hand still around your throat and the other was placed firmly on the wall near your face.

The world around you almost disappeared, stars appearing in your eyes as you tried to grasp onto any air that would come into your airway. Vader’s face came to the crook of your neck and you could feel his hair brush against your cheek as his lips came to the shell of your ear. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine as he whispered:

“Never trust a Sith.”

Your vision went black.

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction #sith anakin

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