#AND YEAH QUINLAN ❤️❤️❤️

[written-mishaps]

How dare you write something so beautifully profound 😭💜

It's been an honor reading your fic over the course of its creation! I'm so glad Fox (and Fives!) got his happy ending and that you wrote everyone else's reactions to Five's revival as opposed to a time skip like I've seen in other fics.

Also, Quinlan! Wanted and loved!!!

Thanks for one of my most favorite star wars fics I've ever read!!! 💜

-ScreamingAtMyFandom

DVABJDJAJDGBAJDBSJJXGAJ THANK YOU SM😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️ yeah I really struggled with how I wanted to end it esp bc I feel like a major timeskip would be out of place, so I decided to end it where the whole thing started: at 79s ❤️

[omaano]

SW Hades AU January Update

Woohoo, look at that we have a header for the monthly updates now!

Some links and previous updates: May - June - July - August - September - October/November - December - everything else in this AU

I finally got around to not only finish Quinlan's character illustration, but also add a background, glow effect and text box to him.

I've got to say, I am very very proud and more than a little surprised at how well he turned out! Green is my nemesis of a color (that's partly why I decided to tackle Quinlan and Kit in one go - bite the bullet in one go and all that) but funnily enough all his greens are rather desaturated dark yellows (including his skin tone). Gosh, initially I'd picked those colours off of Ares, and up until I added the warmer red to the edges of the shadows on his skin I was very very terrified that I'd made a huge mistake here. (It's part of my art process, spending a significant amount of it being terrified that I messed up my colours beyond saving TT^TT) But he turned out amazing and super shiny!

Adding those snakebite piercings was also such a big brained idea (can you tell that I'm really really happy with him? XD) and this illustration is defnitely up there among my top faves with Shaak Ti.

Kit in comparison was a lot more straightforward (hah).

The foreshortening and positioning of his arms was... well. Not Fun, let's just stick with that, but I'm very good at dying on very small hills, and I'd got it in my head that I'm gonna push this pose A Bit. In the end it wasn't as much as I'd hoped for, but I did try for some exaggeration in the posing and anatomy as well. (Have you seen Ares's hands and forearms and Dionysos's thighs??)

Further SHOUTOUT and a million thanks to @hastalavistabyebye for their enthusiastic tags under all my Hades posts, and for being the genius mind behind these additional trinkets for this AU:

Fizzroot Shake for Nectar (we gotta be safe with teenagers around), and Tiingilar for Ambrosia ❤️❤️

Additional extra ramblings below the cut to save space on your dashboards:

Let's move from the trinkets back towards Kit and Quinlan last, yeah?

Fizzroot Shake and Tiingilar

It isn't as obvious with the big character illustrations as with the smaller images, but I really do have some trouble with keeping things - colours and shapes - simple. It's more obvious on small things that really cannot pack or fit in all those details, so I had to do a lot of repainting (like with the fizz fuzz foam of the shake, or the bowl of the tiingilar), and truth be told I'm still not happy. Might be that the drawing is still too detailed - but in my defense this was a wind-down project for me these past few weeks.

I have collected a few references for shapes and materials and colours from both Hades and Hades2 as you can see on the margins. I am still obsessed with the glow of Hestia's keepsake, it just glows, I love it! If I were to change a few things on these I think it would be to add some more orange/yellow to the Fizzroot Shake to offset the purple a little more (like how the purple bow balances out the very bright yellow/orange of the nectar/ambrosia), and work more black into the bowl of the tiingilar. I was thinking about adding more of that blue to it, but I wonder if even at this level there is too much of it...

Anyway, I will surely be forced to learn a lot more of this when I sit down to finish all my keepsake versions. Some of those are certainly still too detailed in their current design D:

Kit and Quinlan

I took a lot of inspiration for both Kit and Quinlan's clothing from concept art and character models from TCW. Especially for the pistols and the holsters for Quinlan's black getup that he would have worn if the Dark Acolyte storyline made it into the show, I believe.

I was also very very tempted to draw Kit wearing a really high cut swimming suit without the shorts/leggings. The ones that are cut so high they display the entirety of the hips and most of the ass as well probably? But I chickened out in the end, and stuck with a semi-see-through layer on his thighs too smh

I also try to be more intentional with my shapes in these designs. I'm not sure how I'm doing with that, but I tried for a lot of triangles with Kit. And lots of greens and orange, of course. To prove that I'm learning from those Hades style breakdown videos that I'd watched last year. So I made some notes on dominant shapes with the both of them (it was mostly triangles, and Kit also got a rectangle note as well), and to pick one bright, highlight colour while I keep the others desaturated to support that colour.

I think I did better on that front with Quinlan than with Kit. The yellow and gold of all his markings and jewelry pop real nice (and even the little "jewel" highlights of green and torqois worked so well in support of each other! I was really surprised, I generally hate adding them at the end...) and with his dark clothes, skin and hair they really support that metallic brightness even with the warmer tones worked in at the edges of shadows.

Kit on the other hand, I feel he turned out too bright and warm green, and so the orange in his vambraces and clothes don't pop that much. It lacks a bit of balance maybe. There was a time when he seemed to be too dark and desaturated a green, and that was likely the step when I got too scared to trust the process and turned up my saturation a bit too much. So I tried to work a bit of light yellow into him with that bottom lighting, and it did what it could but... oh well. I still quite like it, don't misunderstand me!

I know I sound a bit nitpicky here, but in truth I'm trying to work out what I could learn from these pieces that I might use in the next one! I'm trying to be more intentional with my work, but it doesn't come very easy to me, so working through these things in these posts do help a little. And who knows, maybe it will help someone else too :)

*

Taglist of anyone who wants to be pinged once a month for these updates <3 If you want to be added to the list send me a message, or just reply to this post (a 👀 would do, nothing fancy required ;))

@elwinged @yeehawgeek @velsayshi @lionsaint

If you want to be taken off the list just message me and I’ll take you off, no hard feelings :)

[spacerocksarethebestrocks]

I recently started reading your fic “Commander Fox is completely fine” and I just want you to know,,,, I was a bit nervous about starting an 1100 page fic (I downloaded it, I was floored by the page count haha) for a ship I wasnt even super sold on BUT YOU HAVE SOLD ME ON IT!!! I started it because I adore Fox and read some of your other stuff and,,,, this fic is soooo good. I adore your guard troopers so much, they all feel so alive and fleshed out and just great,,,, Game has my heart oh my god. Carrion is hilarious but also he has my heart and I wish only good things for him. I love the relationship between Quinlan and Fox and I am so excited to see it continue and grow (Im only on page 710 and in hindsight I should have dumped this on ao3 as a comment but oh well) so yeah

Just wanted to let you know this might be one of my new favourite fics 💛💛💛 and u also single handedly sold me on the Quinlan/Fox ship (permission to call them Foxes bc Vos actually means Fox in my language?)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

the fact that vos means fox in your language is absolutely incredible and perfect and everything.

hope you enjoyed the whole thing!

[arcsimper5]

@stormyblue90 thank you for adding to it!

It's so interesting to see different points of view!

I can see where the drug addiction similarity would come in as well, and I wonder, with Jedi who have returned or 'recovered' from the dark side (Quinlan Vos, for example), if they ever truly did.

I think the jedi having power and learning to control it is valid, but I have always said that Yoda is the biggest problem with the Jedi. He's overseen so many personal failures (and I do believe he got attached in some way), that it made him not want to take any action.

Ye olde 'if I don't move the iceberg won't tip because yeah, there's a boat there, but I know there are also sharks'.

Anyway, thank you for your input, I love having these discussions in fandom! ❤️

The Force does not belong to one side or the other

Force rant below lol

And I think the Jedi are stupid for thinking it.

There is no 'light side' or 'dark side'. There is just 'The Force'.

Like any superpower, you can use it for good, or you can use it for evil. It doesn't change what it is.

You can use water to both hydrate and drown. That doesn't mean you have 'good water' and 'bad water'.

The Jedi, like all types of religious orders, are about control.

No attachments, no love, no wanting, no possessions, bar what they give you. Complete and utter devotion to the Order, practically from birth.

And they assume that the 'Light Side' of the Force is theirs, forgetting that the Force has its own will. The Force doesn't corrupt, breaking free of control does.

That's what the Sith thrive on.

A simple taste of power, of freedom, of love, and the fear of losing what they have gained when they've been denied it for their entire lives up to that point.

There is not a line the Force draws where you go from using the 'light side' or the 'dark side'. It is cast as such due to intention.

The Force can be used to heal people, to help people, but it can also be used to harm, to kill, to torture.

The concept of the 'dark side' is so utterly bizarre to me, because like, it's THE FORCE, it's what makes the world and holds it together.

In the Mortis arc, the only reason that the Son finally succumbs to the dark side is because of Anakin's presence.

If there are prophecies, The Force will have planned out his arc from beginning to end the moment he was conceived. We see him have visions of his future as Darth Vader, how many people he hurts, and he is horrified and wants to change it.

The Father (the Force) does not allow this. He wipes his memory.

Why, if Anakin is aligned to the 'Light Side', does he do this?

I believe the Son and the Daughter are representations of Anakin's internal struggle, not the Force itself. They are like Luke and Leia, balance.

Luke begins to use the Force much later than most Jedi. Hence, according to the ways of the Order, he should immediately fall to the Dark Side because he has lost so much.

Leia begins even later, after watching her entire planet be destroyed.

Neither fall to the 'Dark Side'. They are balance.

I think the concept of 'The Force' in itself is poorly understood and poorly explored, but I just needed to get some of my thoughts down to hash them out.

Within every person, there is the ability to be good and ability to be evil. It's the will that decides which way to go, and when people talk about 'The Will of The Force', it only ever seems to be in line with what the Jedi believe.

Dooku turning on them was not considered the 'Will of the Force', but people dying needlessly throughout the films/comics etc is...

I dunno where I'm going with this but it seems like a lot of it is just a bunch of old dudes in robes not knowing the answer and just going, 'yeah, uh, the Force told me, so it's fine.'

[friskynotebook]

All the Wasted Time Ch. 2

An Obidala GFFA AU slow-burn romance ❤️

CW: age gap

Summary: Obi-Wan gets ready for his not-date, with a little help from his friends ❤️

Also on AO3!

Obi-Wan sighed as he stepped out of the ‘fresher, clad only in an undershirt and boxer briefs. He still wasn’t entirely sure why he agreed to this—he almost commed Padme twice to cancel. But before he could hit the “call” button, he thought of her being miserable as she was hit on by yet another off-world politician and he tucked his comm back in his robes.

It’s just one night to help a friend . . . Surely you can manage that, he told himself. It’s not like you won’t have a good time spending the evening with Padme, even if it is with other politicians.

Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Obi-Wan heard faint voices outside his quarters as he toweled his hair. Wait, that sounds like—

Quinlan and Anakin barged into his apartment—without knocking, Obi-Wan noted, though at this point he wasn’t exactly surprised.

“Obes!” Quinlan called. “You decent?”

“Does a door mean nothing to you two?” Obi-Wan teased, hanging his towel. 

Anakin had opened Obi-Wan’s conservator, finding a new carton of blue milk. “It opened, did it not?”

“Most beings knock before entering,” Obi-Wan replied crisply, pointedly placing a glass in front of his former padawan. 

“Yeah, but who says we’re most beings?” Quinlan asked.

“Fair enough,” Obi-Wan mused. “What are you two—Quinlan!” Obi-Wan cried out as Quinlan grabbed his arm, dragging him to his bedroom.

“You have to meet Padme in a standard hour, no time to waste!” Quinlan sat him down on a stool while Anakin took his glass and fried tubers and sat himself in a chair, propping his feet up on Obi-Wan’s nightstand.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed.

“I know, I know, ‘feet belong on the floor.’” Anakin rolled his eyes and put his feet back down.

“Where’s your hair product?” Quinlan asked, rummaging through Obi-Wan’s drawers.

“Third drawer on the left,” he replied, knowing there was no point in stopping his friend once he was on a mission.

“Have you thought about changing your part?” Quinlan wondered, running his hands through Obi-Wan’s hair, flopping it back and forth as he frowned.

“Are you kidding Quin? You can’t mess with a classic!” Anakin called back, his mouth full of tubers. “Part the hair on the right side.”

Quinlan nodded, ignoring Obi-Wan’s eye roll. “Right side for maximum hotness, got it.” He reached for the pomade.

“Wait, let him get dressed first!” Anakin suggested. “So it doesn’t get messed up when he puts his robes on.”

“Oh good call, good call,” Quinlan agreed. “Put on your dress robes and I’ll fix your hair after.”

Obi-Wan stood. “You know, I have been dressing myself and fixing my own hair for years now.”

“Yeah, but when was the last time you went on a date?” Anakin teased.

“This is not a date, you said so yourself.”

“So? A guy can dream.”

“Is he dressed yet?” Mace called as he and Cody let themselves into Obi-Wan’s quarters.

“Why do all of you treat my apartment like Coruscant Station?” Obi-Wan lamented, his head stuck in his closet.

Mace ignored him. “Wear the blue dress robes.”

“What? But I usually wear the dark brown ones!”

“The blue ones bring out your eyes.” Mace used the Force to grab a plush tooka Padme had won for Obi-Wan at a Festival of Light years ago and sat on Obi-Wan’s dresser as Cody leaned against the wall beside Anakin.

Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed his beard, his eyes darting between the two sets of robes. After a few moments of contemplation, he grabbed the dark blue ones and left to dress in his bathroom.

“Sit down,” Quinlan ordered when Obi-Wan returned. “We don’t have much time.”

“We have plenty of time,” he protested. “It surely doesn’t take that long to fix my hair.”

“Normal hair, no. But first date hair is a completely different beast.”

“Should I even bother reminding you all this is not a date?” Obi-Wan sighed. “And even if I was, I do know how to act in public.”

“Well, since you brought up dates . . .” Mace grinned.

“Oh no,” Obi-Wan muttered.

“You would know, with your sordid history, Master,” Anakin teased.

“I do not have a sordid—”

“First there was Satine.” Quinlan counted with his free hand as Obi-Wan turned bright red. “A year on the run, young and in love . . .”

“You should have seen him when we ran into her on Mandalore a few years ago,” Anakin grinned. “He tried to play it cool but he was so embarrassed.”

“It had been a long time!” Obi-Wan tried to defend himself.

“Then there was Siri Tachi,” Mace chimed in. “I caught them making out in a training room once.”

“That was years ago and only the one time—”

“Oh, don’t forget me,” Cody laughed. “Remember our one and only date where we stared at each other for twenty minutes then talked about the Ryloth mission for the rest of the dinner?”

“Surely it wasn’t that bad!”

“I had a great time, once we decided we weren’t actually on a date,” Cody grinned as Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face in exasperation.

“And we can’t forget Jango,” Anakin snorted as the others groaned.

“Ah, Jango,” Quinlan sighed. “When the temple gossip became a full-blown soap opera.”

“Yoda kept pestering me for daily updates,” Mace added.

“Oh, come on—”

“Are we talking about Jango?” Bail called, striding into Obi-Wan’s room.

“Does the lock on my door even work?” Obi-Wan asked no one in particular.

“Yes!” Anakin exclaimed, ignoring Obi-Wan. “We’re talking about Obi-Wan’s torrid love affairs.”

“Torrid, Anakin, really—”

“The Jango affair really was a roller coaster of emotions, wasn’t it?” Bail mused, grinning at the beet-red Jedi master.

“Wait, how do you know about Jango?” Obi-Wan asked, fighting his desire to disappear into the floor.

“You can’t spend as much time as I do in the Jedi Temple and not know about Jango, my friend,” Bail teased.

“Bail, I assure you, it wasn’t quite as scandalous as they’re—”

The vice chair held up a hand, laughing. “Relax, Obi-Wan, I didn’t come to add to your bullying—that much. Actually, I wanted to lend you my lucky cape.” He reached for the garment bag he had placed on a table behind him.

“Lucky cape?” Cody furrowed his brow.

“It’s the cape I was wearing when I first met Breha,” he beamed. “It’s also the one I wore when I proposed.”

“Do I need to remind you all this is not a date?” Obi-Wan sighed.

“Put on the cape, Obes.” Quinlan crossed his arms and eyed his friend. Obi-Wan did as Quinlan said, knowing his friends wouldn’t let him off the hook until he did.

“Look at you! It really suits you,” Bail said, adjusting the cape on Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

He blushed. “Thank you, Bail. It is rather nice.”

“A Jedi master masquerading as Alderaani royalty,” Mace grinned. “You look good, Kenobi.”

Before Obi-Wan could reply, a soft knock echoed through his quarters. He smiled, knowing only one person who was polite enough to knock before entering.

“Master Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan greeted, ushering the aging master into the apartment. Though Qui-Gon Jinn was more or less temple-bound these days, he was still spry and agile, remaining active in teaching and mentoring other members of the Order.

“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon’s warm baritone wrapped Obi-Wan in a comforting hug. “You look very dashing tonight.”

He blushed. “Thank you, Master.”

“It’s the cape, right?” Bail chimed in. “That really sells the look.”

Qui-Gon chuckled. “Yes, Bail, the cape looks good.” He turned back to his former padawan. “I just came to wish you well on your evening.”

“Master,” Obi-Wan groaned. “I’m just escorting a dear friend.”

Qui-Gon raised a brow, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “Of course you are, Obi-Wan. All the same, I wanted to see you off . . . and remind you to be home before curfew.”

Obi-Wan turned even more red, if that was possible. 

“Don’t worry, Master,” Anakin laughed. “He’ll be back well before dawn.”

As Obi-Wan was gathering his things to leave, Ahsoka rushed in.

“Skyguy! The temple speeder you modded for Master Kenobi is ready by the west entrance,” she said, not noticing Anakin frantically making a slashing motion across his neck.

Mace set down the plush.

“Skywalker, what did Tano just say?!”

No-pressure tags: @wickedscribbles @obiknights @labyrinth-runner @your-dose-of-obidala @mxster-jocale @cypanache @celestial-alignment @written-musings @alabama-metal-man

[friskynotebook]

All the Wasted Time Ch. 7

An Obidala GFFA AU slow-burn romance ❤️

CW: age gap, food, bed-sharing, hurt/comfort, grief, death of a loved one, caretaking, handkerchief use, pining, crying

Summary: Padme helps Obi-Wan through a deep tragedy.

Also on AO3!

In the weeks following Padme’s recovery, she and Obi-Wan continued seeing each other socially—tea at each others’ apartments, walks in the park, browsing hole-in-the-wall libraries.

And Padme was fine with this, totally fine with her pathetically pining after him while just being friends, because he was being nice to her when she got hurt, and they’re still hanging out because they’re friends, nothing more.

She was absolutely fine with this.

Except.

All she wanted to do was tell him how she felt, how much she loved him. But she knew she would scare him off. He was barely ready to acknowledge he deserved any kind of good in the world—even though he’s one of the best people she knew. How could he possibly manage a friend telling him she loved him?

She was pretty sure he would combust.

But then again, if she didn’t tell him how she felt soon, she would combust. Especially since she was convinced she was falling more and more in love with him every time they met.

So, who will break first?

##

Padme got her answer sooner than she wanted.

A few days after their most recent outing—breakfast at Dex’s Diner—Padme was working in her office when her desk comm rang.

Without a second thought, Padme answered. “Senator Amidala.”

“Hi Padme,” Quinlan sighed, sounding distant and muted.

She frowned. Why is Quinlan calling me? “Quinlan, hi. What can I do for you?”

He swallowed, as if he were calming himself. “Qui-Gon passed away this morning.”

“What?” Padme gasped, her heart sinking. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he choked, clearing his throat. “I actually called to ask you a favor. For Obi-Wan.”

She immediately started packing her desk. “What is it?”

“Will you go with him to Stewjon? For the mourning period?” he asked. “Bail is needed in the Senate, Mace has to stay for the Council, I’m stepping in for Obi-Wan on his mission with Anakin, Ahsoka, and Cody—”

“Of course I will,” she cut him off. “Of course. I can fly out within the hour.”

Quinlan breathed out a sigh of relief. “He’s on Chandrila.”

“I should be there in about three standard hours.”

“I’ll let him know,” he confirmed. “Padme?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

She furrowed her brow. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“It means a lot. You going with him. He’ll never admit it, but he’ll need someone during the mourning period. He and Qui-Gon were very close.”

She swallowed the lump down her throat. “I’ll take care of him, Quinlan.”

“I know you will.”

##

Two and a half standard hours later, Padme landed her shuttle on a nondescript docking bay in Chandrila. As soon as the engines shut off, Padme darted off the ship, her eyes scanning the bay for Obi-Wan.

She spotted him standing with Anakin, Cody, and Ahsoka. To the naked eye, he appeared to be as unruffled as ever. But to Padme, the slump of his shoulders and dark circles under his eyes told a different tale.

He seemed smaller somehow, like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Like he would crumble under the weight of his grief.

She made a beeline towards him. 

“Obi-Wan,” she breathed, pulling him into a firm hug. He sank against her embrace, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

“Hello, Padme,” he murmured into her neck before pulling away.

“How are you?” she cooed.

“As well as can be expected,” he reassured her, giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Cody placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, sir.” He turned to Padme. “Thank you, Senator.”

“Yeah, thank you, Padme.” Anakin gave her a meaningful look, stepping closer. “Having you there will be good for him.”

Padme swallowed back her tears. “I’ll do my best, Ani.”

He gave her a crooked grin. “Trust me, just being there is enough.”

She turned to Obi-Wan. “Ready to go?”

He nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

##

Padme set the course for Stewjon and fiddled with the controls, Obi-Wan beside her. Normally for a flight of this length, she’d set the ship on autopilot and read a holonovel or work on one of her many pitiful crochet projects, but she sensed he wanted the company and she wasn’t about to abandon him.

“Obi-Wan?” she asked about halfway through the trip.

“Hmm?” He looked lost in thought, but he turned towards her, open to some conversation.

“Why are we going to Stewjon? Was Qui-Gon from there?”

Obi-Wan smiled softly. “No, he doesn’t know—rather, he never knew—his home planet. By the time the rule on attachments was lifted, he didn’t have any real connection to his home world. So, my family adopted him, in a way.”

“They did? That’s lovely.” Padme smiled.

“They were grateful to him for training me and caring for me as if I was his own . . .” Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off.

Padme covered his hand with hers. “You were his own, Obi-Wan. He loved you so much.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I felt it in the Living Force, every day. It was so strong . . .”

“I could feel it too. We all could, even without the Force.”

“Padme, did he know? How much I loved him?”

“Of course he did,” Padme replied, squeezing his hand. “Of course he did.”

##

They landed on Stewjon the next afternoon.

As they stepped on the docking bay, Padme gasped. “Oh Obi-Wan. It’s so beautiful here. So green.”

“It’s quite green on Naboo, too.” His eyes sparkled as he looked out at his home world. 

“Yes, but this is a different green. A lush green.”

“I suppose it is.” The corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

“Obi-Wan!”

An older woman with a shock of red hair came barreling towards them. 

“Mum!” Obi-Wan grinned, catching her in his arms.

“How are you, darling?” The woman cupped his face in her hands, her voice more of a rough brogue compared to her son’s clipped elegant accent.

“Alright, I suppose.” His face softened. “I haven’t had much time to think about it.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan,” she murmured. She turned towards Padme. “And you must be the Senator Amidala we’ve all heard so much about.”

Padme’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve heard about me?”

Obi-Wan’s face turned bright red. “I’ve told my family about my life on Coruscant, of course you would be mentioned.”

“Oh yes, Obi here brings you up constantly.”

“I wouldn’t say constantly, Mum—”

“I feel like I know you myself!”

“Well, it’s an honor to finally meet you, Mrs. Kenobi,” Padme smiled.

“None of this ‘Mrs. Kenobi’ business! Call me Jemmila.”

“Jemmila it is.”

##

There are a lot of Kenobis, Padme learned.

She lost count after meeting forty of them—cousins, aunts, uncles.

The only ones she could remember by the end of the day were his mother Jemmila, his father Fenn, and his younger brother Jeshi, the latter of whom helped her and Obi-Wan with their bags.

“You’ll be sharing a room,” Jeshi said, hauling one of Padme’s large bags up the stairs. “I hope that’s alright with your majesty.”

Padme blushed. “I’m not royalty anymore, Jeshi. Padme is fine.”

“Oh, sorry,” Jeshi apologized. “It’s just, Obi would tell these stories about the Queen of Naboo saving her planet and ruling her people—”

“Jesh, I told you other things about Padme too,” Obi-Wan interjected.

“Yeah but I remember the ones you told me when I was wee the best,” he said. Padme recalled Jeshi was seventeen years younger than Obi-Wan—a lovely surprise, Jemmila had said.

“Perhaps I can tell you other stories while I’m here,” Padme said. “Ones your brother doesn’t know.”

Jeshi perked up. “Really? That’d be grand!” He dropped the bag inside the door of the . . . cozy spare room.

“Thank you, Jeshi,” Obi-Wan said.

“Clean towels are in the ‘fresher. I’ll be next door if you need me?” Jeshi ended his sentence as a question.

“We should be fine. Goodnight,” Padme said.

“Yes, goodnight,” Obi-Wan smiled, watching his brother as he left the room.

As soon as they had privacy, he turned to Padme. “I’m so sorry about this.”

She frowned. “Sorry about what?”

“This. Sharing a room, a bed. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’ll talk to my mum—”

If only he knew. “Obi-Wan, we’ve shared a bed before,” Padme pointed out.

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, yes, but the circumstances were different then—”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m fine sharing a bed if you are.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now let’s get ready for bed.”

##

The next morning, the sounds of talking and banging downstairs woke Padme. She flipped over and found Obi-Wan gazing over at her, his face masked in sleepy confusion.

“Hey,” she rasped. “How are you feeling?”

Padme’s heart shattered as she watched the memory of the previous day return, the pain of grief clouding his features.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “All things considered? Alright, I suppose.” He rolled onto his back. “Is it childish to admit I had hoped it was a bad dream?” he whispered.

“Oh, Obi-Wan, I’m so sorry,” she said, blinking back tears. It pained her to see this strong, patient, consummate Jedi in so much distress. She wished there was more she could say, more she could do to help him—if there was anything she could do to take away his pain, she’d do it in a heartbeat. Anything for Obi-Wan.

She gently brushed her fingers against his arm. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?”

He covered her hand with his, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “No . . . Just you being here . . . it helps more than I can say. Thank you, dearest.”

Padme swallowed. She could picture herself so clearly crawling across the bed, straddling his waist, and pulling him in her arms, holding him close as if she could heal him through the sheer strength of her love.

“Let’s go downstairs,” she suggested.

##

Stewjoni mourning traditions were more . . . celebratory than Padme had been anticipating.

Obi-Wan’s older brother, Duran, had arrived with his partner, Elias, and their children, Sovi and Terral—and they brought the raw bantha, ready to roast for Qui-Gon’s wake.

“Is roasting a whole bantha part of the funeral traditions?”

Elias laughed. “Oh no, lass. This was Qui-Gon’s favorite meal.”

“On Stewjon, funerals are a celebration of the person’s life, not a mourning of their death,” Jemmila added. “Of course it’s normal to feel sad at someone’s passing. But it’s more important to remember the joy they brought us in life.”

Padme smiled. “That’s a lovely thought.”

“Qui-Gon Jinn loved his food,” Fenn said. “A perfect fit for our family.”

“Remember when he demolished that tray of butter-basted land shrimp?” Jeshi laughed.

Duran cackled. “He didn’t realize it was a party tray!”

“He was rather embarrassed,” Obi-Wan grinned. “He couldn’t look at a land shrimp for months after that.”

“But every time he visited, your mother insisted on making it for him,” Fenn laughed, looking like the spitting image of his middle son.

“What?” Jemmila played innocent. “He clearly liked it! I’d be a bad host if I didn’t make it.”

Padme giggled. “I’m not much of a cook, but I’ll do what I can to help—everything smells wonderful.”

“Hopefully you’re better in the kitchen than Obi here—he almost burned the house down twice!” Duran said.

“The second time was not my fault!” Obi-Wan protested.

“That’s what you said when you tried to make grilled crupa breasts at the palace in Aldera and Qui-Gon had to Force-throw water from the pool before you set the entire palace on fire,” Padme laughed.

Obi-Wan’s family burst out in a roar of laughter.

Elias grinned, turning to Obi-Wan. “We like this one, a bhobain—don’t scare her off.”

Obi-Wan turned bright red. “I’ll try not to.”

##

In the days leading up to the funeral, members of the Kenobi clan took shifts sitting with Qui-Gon’s body after preservation.

“It’s tradition to watch over the body before the funeral,” Jeshi told Padme. “To protect the spirit from falling to the dark of night—Obi-Wan would call it the Dark Side.”

She nodded. “I imagine it’s also a chance to say goodbye.”

“Yes,” Jeshi agreed. “That’s what most of us use that time for. To say thank you and goodbye.”

During Obi-Wan’s shift, Padme walked over to his place beside the wrapped body, holding two mugs of hot sucosa.

“Want some company?” she asked.

He smiled up at her and shifted over. “I’d like that, Padme.”

She sat beside him, handing over one of the mugs. “Your mother’s secret recipe is delicious.”

He sipped his drink. “Kenobi family secret.”

“So she said.” Padme sipped her own drink. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than I did when we arrived,” he said, staring ahead at the pyre. “It’s strange. I miss him so deeply and yet he’s right in front of me. But it’s not him.”

Feeling brave, Padme rested her head on his shoulder. “He’s gone, even though he’s right in front of you.”

“Exactly,” Obi-Wan agreed, his hand casually resting on her thigh. “I still catch myself thinking of him in the present tense.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” she replied. “He’ll always be alive in you, in Anakin, in the Jedi Order. He’s probably alive in the Force, too—wait, is that how the Force works?”

He snorted. “Yes, more or less. We believe he is one with the Force now—that’s what the burning symbolizes.”

She nodded. “It doesn’t make it easier, though, does it?”

“Not in the short term, no.”

They sat in companionable silence, neither ready to be alone, watching over Qui-Gon.

“Padme,” Obi-Wan began, his voice raspy from disuse. “I know you must feel like you aren’t doing enough, or not doing anything . . . But you must know, my dear, this is everything.”

She looked up, her heart sinking at the tears filling his eyes. Even when he’s in the depths of his own grief, he still feels the need to make her feel better. “Obi-Wan—”

“Being here with me, my family, dropping your entire life to be by my side, it means more than I can say. Staying with me makes all the difference.” He paused, trying to maintain his composure. “I cannot thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to thank me at all. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” I’d do anything for you in a heartbeat.

He drained the last of his drink. “Still. I hope one day I’ll have the opportunity to return the favor in some way.”

Padme stood, taking the mug back. 

“You already have,” she replied, leaving him to grieve in private.

##

The night before the funeral, Padme watched Obi-Wan go through his katas before bed—part of his usual routine, she noticed.

Still, she pretended to read her holo novel as he went through his routine, keeping a watchful eye on him to make sure he wasn’t over-tiring himself.

When he finally came to bed, Padme reached over to her nightstand to shut off the light.

“Goodnight, Obi-Wan.”

“Goodnight, Padme,” he replied, his voice soft. “Sleep well.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Always caring and kind. 

Padme kept herself awake, listening to Obi-Wan toss and turn beside her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep if Obi-Wan wasn’t sleeping.

After half an hour of his restlessness, Padme turned towards him. “Obi-Wan? Are you alright?”

He sighed. “I can’t sleep,” he admitted. “I feel this . . . weight in my chest that won’t go away. I can’t sleep with this pain, Padme.”

She turned over to face him. “That’s your grief. It’s normal to feel that.”

“I haven’t been able to cry, not really, since we arrived. I’m trying to be strong for everyone else who loved him, I want to be there for them—”

“But you need to process your feelings too. It’s okay to cry, Obi-Wan.”

His chin wobbled, and his breath started shaking, his tears glistening in the moonlight. “Padme,” he choked.

“Come here,” she cooed, pulling him in her arms as he quietly wept against her chest.

She stroked his hair and rubbed soothing circles on his back, shushing him softly. He pulled her impossibly close, needing to be comforted as much as she needed to comfort. 

I’m here, Obi-Wan. I’m here.

After a while, his sobs eased and turned into sniffles, though he still kept her close. Padme reached over to her nightstand and grabbed a handkerchief for him. He accepted it gratefully, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose before discarding it on his own nightstand.

When he finished cleaning himself up, he settled back into her embrace.

“Padme?” he whispered, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Yes?”

“You’re my best friend.”

Words that only a week ago would have broken her heart now comforted her and touched her in ways she never thought possible. Being Obi-Wan Kenobi’s best friend meant more to her than any other title. It was an honor to hold a special place in this beautiful, brilliant man’s life, and even if he never returned her love in the way she wished, she would never give up her relationship with him.

She still wanted him to know how she felt, but she no longer threatened to burst with her feelings. Rather, they had settled between them like a warm blanket, ready to support and comfort him as he needed.

And that was enough. Loving Obi-Wan in any way he needed was truly enough for her, and that knowledge eased her mind and her heart.

“Let’s get some sleep,” she cooed. Obi-Wan was asleep before she finished her sentence.

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