#and he could have struck Sidious down

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

(repost of this with the video directly in the post because vimeo links are acting up)

Rewatching this scene for the sweet angst, something struck me. In hindsight it's extremely obvious but I'd never thought about it this way.

There's the very obvious parallels with Qui-Gon's death, down to Satine caressing Obi-Wan's cheek, there's that amazing bit of mirrored exchange, where Obi-Wan starts off confrontational and angry and Maul gloating, and then Obi-Wan becomes soft-spoken and empathetic and Maul starts to shake with rage and pain and can't even properly face him, and then there's this.

Maul boasts that the Dark Side is "more powerful than [Obi-Wan] knows," that Obi-Wan's "noble flaw" is a weakness, so why is he trying to make him more powerful? Why tell him to use the Dark Side? Why basically give him a crash course about how it works? Does he want Obi-Wan to retaliate? To escape?

The obvious answer is that Maul isn't trying to make Obi-Wan more powerful. After all, he's well aware that Obi-Wan is a dogshit fighter when he's angry.

Immediately after that last quote, he says "that is not the Jedi way, is it?" as a taunt, and again in The Lawless, he insists "You should have chosen the Dark Side, Master Jedi."

So he's simply trying to destroy him as a Jedi, right? Because he knows that's what make Obi-Wan who he is, and he blames Obi-Wan for robbing him of his status along with his life, so he wants to destroy Obi-Wan's life in the ways that matter (since, as Obi-Wan says, just killing him is nothing like destroying him). But if that's the case, then we're back to the "power" issue. What's the point of destroying Obi-Wan if it's by giving him what Maul claims is his own identity, and the key to freedom?

And imo the answer lies right here:

Why would killing Satine make Obi-Wan share Maul's pain? Why would Maul regard the pain of losing a loved one (something he's completely unfamiliar with at this point) as equal to his torment? Why isn't he chopping Obi-Wan in half and keeping him alive with Nightsister magick instead? Why would the murder of one of Obi-Wan's loved ones, picked almost at random, be THE "moment" Maul has been thinking about "for years"?

I think he really isn't talking about Satine's murder in and of itself when he talks of pain. The pain he wants Obi-Wan to share isn't the pain of loss, but very simply the pain of living in the Dark Side.

That's why Satine really is just a "tool" to his vengeance, as he says, and not the main point. That's why he's so enraged that Obi-Wan insists on showing him compassion even through his fear and anger - being kind leaves you open to grief but protects from the agony of the Dark.

Maul wants Obi-Wan to Fall, to stop being a Jedi, not because he truly believes the Dark Side gives you good things, but because he knows the Dark Side makes you miserable.

He tries to freaking teach Obi-Wan how to Fall, like Obi-Wan is a Sith apprentice, because being a Sith is the most miserable you're ever going to get! He tries to make Obi-Wan suffer by making him like him! He's so self-loathing his hatred of Obi-Wan materializes as self-hatred!

And hey, that greatly complements the end of the episode - Obi-Wan resists the Dark Side and escapes the planet, and Maul revels in it and immediately loses the only person he cares about and ends up crawling and crying while Sidious gleefully tortures him. Maul falls victim to every form of suffering he wanted to inflict on Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan flies away. In the end, Maul is proven right: being Fallen really f*cking sucks.

Really accentuates that Maul wanted relief above all when he sought out Obi-Wan in Rebels. He went to the only person who had shown him actual compassion, and the person he knew was best at resisting the Dark Side - so he could finally be free.

[tennessoui]

Slightly depressing ask but I love your takes on these characters - what do you think Obi-Wan would have done and how would he have reacted if Anakin hadn't betrayed the Jedi but had been killed in Order 66?

ooo good question

i mean my personal opinion is that there really isn't a story where anakin doesn't betray the jedi that could ever be as good and true to his character as the story where he does.

it would be most interesting i think if anakin betrays the jedi still but dies on the blade of another jedi while he's storming the temple but then that jedi dies so for a while no one knows that anakin fell

and so he's remembered a hero even though he died a monster and obi-wan comes to the temple after the massacre, goes straight to the security tapes, sees anakin fighting on the wrong side....he's probably just as devastated and in utter disbelief

especially when he sees anakin struck down

the instinctive rage at the jedi master who stabbed his padawan, his disbelief and grief at anakin's betrayal, his agony to see him downed....

his relief that anakin has been killed so obi-wan doesn't have to watch him kill more, kill again.

i could see this obi-wan going on a suicide mission to kill palpatine; yoda does not want to tag along because obi-wan is very much holding it together on a thin string, but this is about avenging the jedi and avenging anakin

does he die?? i could see sidious killing him. i could see sidious trying to use his confusion and grief to get him to fall. i could see that backfiring and yoda and obi-wan killing or capturing him

i could see both of them failing and the empire truly rising and obi-wan turns to fighting in the rebellion as one of its most capable generals. one of its most dangerous ones. one of its most ruthless ones.

maybe he even falls idk. he falls but he doesn't turn completely to the dark side. he falls but is just utterly opposed to the empire that the rebellion doesn't care it doesnt matter. he's a sithy lil dude on their side.

[vaarians]

Talking with my husband after finally getting around to finishing the Acolyte really opened up a lot of possibilities for me. It confirmed a lot of stuff I had only theorized for the last two years. Please excuse the massive ramblings.

Acolyte Spoilers Below!

I have been molding my world of Vaarria for two years now. Sabina's people have come a long way in that time, but something that struck me while watching the Acolyte was that so much of what I already theorized about how non-Jedi or non-Sith force wielders use force or perceive it very differently depending on their planet's living force was pretty accurate.

It made the Acolyte very special to me, but alas I am straying from my point with all this. Much like the witches of Brendok, the Vaarian women view the force as threads that mesh and bind around a person's life force. Each woman can manipulate these threads depending on their strength that's predestined by the Goddess. I could go on about this but onto what I was telling my husband...

I had always associated the creation of life (or immaculate conception) as a dark side ability one could tap into via these threads (thus Plagueis and Sidious learn later on when creating Anakin), Something that in the early days of my creation of the Vaarian people I hypothesized Vaar to be in search of something similar only he was trying to seek immortality much like Plagueis and Sidious were. However, he got his immortality in the end by spawning a line of powerful force-sensitive women.

Osha and Mae's coven solidified this for me. However, it helped answer a HUGE plot hole in my world in how Sabina got her abilities and why it was her to receive them. "Vaar" met a woman with a strong light side affinity; in trying to corrupt her like Qimir does with Osha, he follows his attachment and falls in love with her. Vaar teaches Thyra about these 'threads of life and death,' but she only sees 'threads of destiny,' so she cannot tap into those threads. Thus causing Vaar to seek more from her and her destinies.

Millenia, down the line, as foretold by Thyra, comes Sabina, who would hold Vaar's long-awaited gift of achieving the ability to create life through these threads. It is unknown how she can create life in the most barren of places (she creates her son Theseus even though she is sterilized) or give judgment in death without even lifting a hand.

The witches of Brendok used dark-side abilities. Vaarians worship a Sith as their god, so they worship some sort of darker force abilities as well. I just find it very fascinating that someone (Leslie) thought a similar way as I did about a coven of matriarchal witches who worship a thread or threads as their view of the force.

In conclusion, my thoughts on the Acolyte were very positive. It made me feel seen and heard after years of people being so weirded out by my world-building. I hope there is a season two, and I love the idea of following Osha and Qimir on their Sith adventures.

[himilce-persephoniea]

Writing update!

Hi everyone!

I noticed it's been a while since my last update, so here I go.

I'm writing the 7th chapter of "Winter Royalty". I'm at 4K for now. It's going to be a long chapter because it's going to end in a thrilling cliffhanger (sorry people)

I'm at chapter 19/25 of the correction of "The light of your beloved face". I'm getting close!

As I'm participating in the Big Bang Obikin, I can tell where I'm or what I'm doing with it. But I'm doing something that I'm very excited to show you all

I've finally found again how to access my past asks (yes, I lost how to do it TT_TT). So, I'm writing the past Tumblr asks of people. Do not hesitate to send it if you have. I can take years to answer, but I answer them

So, there are my updates for now.

Here under the cut, a snippet of the next chapter of Winter Royalty Remember it's still a draft.

Attention, in the end, it becomes a little NSFW.

Good day everyone!

“A credit for your thoughts.” Vader turned and saw Obi-Wan coming.

“I was preoccupied with Sidious. We have meddled with his war plans and he hasn’t made any mouvement yet. It’s uncharacteristic of him.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, I’m worried too. And I’m sure he knows about me, thus I’m sure he’s conflicted about you.” Vader looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “He probably thinks you’re a trap set by the Jedi. Why a Lord of the Sith would ally himself with the Jedi and not with him or even against all of us? He probably thinks you are fake, especially if he doesn’t feel your Force Signature.”

Vader looked at the Senate. “No. He would prefer to kill me rather than risk a powerful ally to the Jedi. What I don’t know is why he hasn’t struck yet.”

Vader was stuck with that question. It was true that he only knew Sidious as Emperor. The man didn’t hesitate to take down anybody. Even when it was for teaching Vader a lesson. He had scars to prove it all over his body.

“Sidious is a patient man, we can’t underestimate him,” Obi-Wan followed Vader’s gaze toward the Senate. “And I’m sure he’s waiting to see what are we going to do.”

Vader wanted to touch Obi-Wan so it was what he did. He embraced him. He had been sure that the Jedi Master would stiffen at his contact, but he just moved to feel comfortable. This filled Vader with an uncontrollable sensation of possessiveness. Obi-Wan was his, nobody else. Not the Jedi, not the Republic, not the galaxy, not even the Light Side. He was his. Vader smiled internally at that thought.

“Padmé is euphoric because the Separatists start wanting to talk about negotiations. I’m not sure is good news. How many times did this happen in our time and it ended up in a trap?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “It could be. Sidious was behind both sides in the past and he certainly is now too.” He nuzzled on Vader’s neck. Because of it, Vader almost lost the threat of the conversation. Sidious who? What war? The Jedi? Who karking care of those things when Obi-Wan was nuzzling his neck in his arms?! “But it could be Dooku too. I’ve received this morning a demand from the Clones that they wish us to prepare a formal ask to the Senate because they want to be recognised as people.” He smiled tenderly at Vader. Alright, he was going to kidnap that man into the Outer Rim. Sidious could have the galaxy for all Vader cared. “I think your speech planted some seed in those men.”

Vader came close to Obi-Wan’s ear. “Let’s be very clear and very lew now, Obi-Wan.” He felt the man gasp. “The only seed I want to put somewhere is my cum in your ass, during a very long sex seance that had several orgasmic moments, where you’d beg me every time to let you come. Is that clear?”

[kimageddon]

A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 113

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Maul x Nightsister OC (Zaiya Valessa) - Slight Canon Divergence

Word count: Approx 2400 Contains/Warnings: Mentions of trauma, abuse, blood, toxic situations, physical and mental abuse. Panic attack. Chapter Summary: Zaiya finally tells the truth about Zygerria. Notes: This one is a little heavy, please be safe and look after yourself.

Shockwaves - Part 1

The group had amassed in the main living area of the ship. Maul was not pleased as he began to pace. Zaiya was silent. She could feel the tension in the room growing, and she would much rather tend to Savage, even though he’d already been bandaged and had both bacta and stims and insisted he was fine, just that his memories were hazy. 

“If I could--” she began.

“Zaiya.” Maul growled. “I have had enough of secrets.” 

“You always know everything there is to know about us, yet you keep everything so close to your chest,” Feral said with a droop in his shoulders. 

“I…” Zaiya grit her teeth. It was true. Of course it was. “I have my reasons,” she managed in a whisper. 

“Then what are they?” Maul demanded. Zaiya looked up to see him standing with his arms folded.

“What?” 

“You have your reasons. I would hear them.” 

Shame crawled up her back. She had to tell them… she had to say something.

“I… I am ashamed…” she admitted. “That is the truth of it. I am ashamed of what happened. Worse… I am afraid.”

“Of someone?” Feral supplied. 

“Of-- of the way you will see me once I tell you.” 

There was heavy silence in the room. 

“What could you have done that would cause such shame?” Maul hissed.

“I…”

“It’s alright, Zaiya,” Savage said finally and Zaiya turned to look at him. He looked like Hell but his expression showed a small smile. Slowly, and with what looked like great effort, he reached out and grasped her hand in a large one of his own. She pursed her lips and nodded. 

It was time. 

“When… when last we saw each other… on Coruscant…” she nodded to Maul and felt him tense up. “I was struck down by Sidious.” She gestured to her left eye. “I awoke to heat and noise and I-- I couldn’t see.” Her throat felt tight at the memory but she pushed forward. “Eventually, after passing out and waking again, I found myself in a bed. I was told I was in a hospital… but there was something around my neck…” her fingers brushed her throat instinctively, even through her gloves she felt the scar tissue. 

She had to take a breath, but continued. 

“Two Twi’Leks spoke to me… and I couldn’t tell why but something felt… off. I couldn’t see at all, and I was covered in bandages.” She heard Maul make a sound but she daren’t look at him. Not if she wanted to finish this. “Then there was-- he…” She grit her teeth and took a deep breath. “His name is Harasan D’Sarr.” 

Zaiya nearly gagged at the name and she could only stare at the floor, her words dripping like venom. 

“What… did this man do?” Maul asked and she heard the unsteadiness in his voice. 

“Initially he said he was helping me… I had no way to verify… I was at his mercy--” she cut off in a scoff and shook her head. “I should have known. No one helps each other in this Galaxy. It was only once my sight returned enough to my good eye did I realise who he was --or rather what he was.” Feral reached out to touch her hand gently. 

“What was he?” the youngest brother whispered. 

“A Zygerrian.” She heard Maul growl and Savage curse under his breath. 

“What is a Zygerrian?” Feral asked timidly. 

“A slaver,” Maul snarled. “They deem all other races as weak and therefore they ought to be in chains…” He paused. “Then the collar…”

“Was an obedience collar, yes,” Zaiya replied. “It is where these scars originate.” she gestured to the scarred burn marks on either side of her throat. 

“To leave marks… the amount of times he would have had to--” Savage began.

“I was… uncooperative… at least at first,” she explained. “He moved me to a cell after my first escape attempt.”

“Could you not use the Force to--”

“No. I had no connection to the Force at all. It was as though I had lost a limb entirely,” Zaiya said bitterly. “The only connection I had at all was--” she cut off and finally looked at Maul, though she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“The visions…” he replied in a whisper. “You witnessed my battles, and… you saw what happened on Naboo.” Anger rippled in his words and she could only nod. 

“It… I saw you… and I…” she looked away rapidly, her voice trembling, teeth grit as she fought off the wave of grief at the memory. “I broke…” she admitted. “Any semblance of the Force or my magick, even my voice left me in that moment.”

“Your voice?” Savage asked. “You didn’t speak?”

“Not a word. Not until I managed to make it back to Dathomir and Talzin restored it… and my eye.” She gestured limply to herself. 

“So your green eye was not of your doing?” Maul asked, “I had thought--”

“No… my eye is completely gone,” she shook her head, “I had a patch to cover it while I--” she cut off again. Frustrated at herself for how often she was unable to finish sentences. “Eventually I was his bodyguard, in a sense; but really I was his pet. I did as he said, I killed who he demanded I kill and when he wanted to play…” She let out a soft growl. “It was the only defiance I had in me. He had a fondness for having me wear all white.” She couldn’t look at anyone now, her chest was so tight she could barely breathe. 

“So… he was the one that called you Angel…” Savage said in realisation and Zaiya’s eyes squeezed shut. 

“They didn’t know my name. So he gave me a new one. He called me his Angel of Death, and the only time he would allow me to remove my gloves was to strangle the target of his choosing…” She felt the words bubbling in her now, the anger and pain beginning to rise in her chest. “He said I looked fetching in all white, but I know the real reason was that he liked to see how it would soak up the red when he wanted to play his games.” 

“He cut you?!” Feral gasped. “For fun?!” Zaiya just nodded and ran a hand over her forearm. 

“It was some game he took sick pleasure in. Sometimes he would offer false kindness and affection… all in an attempt to get me to react. He told me he wanted to--” She nearly gagged, remembering what he’d said. “It was perverse.” 

She heard Maul make a sound and begin pacing again. 

“How long…?” Feral asked. 

“Eight years,” she whispered. 

“Eight--?!” Maul spat, “you did not think to strike back? To attack him? To--”

“I wanted to!” she snapped back, suddenly on her feet. This was what she had feared. He gave voice to all of those thoughts. “I know! I did nothing! I let him do this to me! I let him control me! Kill my own allies! I was weak, alright?! Is that what you wanted to hear? I-I’m not like you! I’m not as strong…” The burst of emotion was too much and the dam broke. Tears flowing from her eyes and her body wracked with sobs. 

She could not see the way Maul looked at her through the tears. The way his face contorted in horror and his eyes wide. She sank to her knees and Feral was there at once to catch her. 

“That’s not true Zaiya…” Feral said, speaking softly to her. The pain was too much to bear and she shook, trembling in the Nightbrother’s arms… she screamed. The entire ship rattled but it was not quite to the level of the one she had unleashed when she was freed. 

She heard them talking but the words didn’t make sense to her at that moment. She tried to control her breathing, but she couldn’t… she couldn’t breathe!

A large hand pressed against her back and Savage’s deep rumbling voice spoke in her ear. He was telling her to breathe… that she was alright. 

Safe… 

Yes… she was safe… though she dare not look at Maul. She was right; he did think she was weak. Pathetic. That it was her own fault. 

“Zaiya…” She heard his strained whisper after her cries had muted to shaky gasps. She wiped her face with the damp cloth Feral offered her. She felt so disgusting. 

“What did you mean… kill your allies…?” Maul asked, and the closeness of his voice meant he was sitting on the floor with her. 

“I… there was a chance one day. He-- D’Sarr said he would lend me to one of his business partners for some pick up. It was during a party. I kept D’Sarr busy and a woman - she was a Togruta and they all called her Nannie.” Her breath hitched again as she remembered the woman’s face. “When I was taken, my amulet was hidden from me. She’d found it, and offered to steal it back. Nannie was the only one that had ever shown me any semblance of kindness.” 

Zaiya wiped her face, the cool cloth helping to calm her. The embarrassment of her emotions had already begun to set in. 

“She found it then?” Feral asked, pointing to Zaiya’s chest and Zaiya pulled the golden half-disk out of her shirt to hold. 

“She did. But… she was caught. And I… D’Sarr made me…” her teeth grit again as she tried to fight the grief back again. “She was so peaceful. Like she knew what was coming, she accepted death at my hands and she… smiled at me.” The look in Zaiya’s good eye was utterly haunted, she could almost see Nannie’s face before her as though she was still there. 

“It’s not your fault,” Feral insisted. 

“Isn’t it?” she replied dryly. 

“No! You did what you had to do to survive.” Zaiya pursed her lips. She didn’t know if she believed it. 

“It was when the associate took me off-planet to some pick up that I had my chance. The one he was sent to meet was… Hondo Ohnaka.” She let out a dry chuckle. 

“The Pirate?” Maul asked and she nodded. 

“He helped me, got me out of there and got the collar off.” Her fingers flexed as she looked at them. “The power came back to me then, and I felt free…” 

“And the Zygerrian?” Savage asked. 

“The one that took me away is dead.” She nodded, “I… screamed, this power ran through me and I screamed so loud that he fell and never got back up.” The three Zabraks exchanged looks. 

“You have that power?” Savage asked. 

“If what we saw a minute ago is any indication…” Feral muttered and gestured around the room. 

“I’ve not used it since then,” Zaiya explained, but she suspected she could do it again if she needed to. 

“So that was when we saw you again on Dathomir,” Savage added and Zaiya nodded. Feral looked to Maul. 

“When we saw her she was skin and bones, starved, sallow and I don't know how she was even standing,” he explained. “It… it was so painful to see her like that.” 

“I’m… I’m sorry--” she began.

“No!” The three of them almost shouted at her all at once, making her jump. 

“This was not your fault, he did this to you.” Feral squeezed her hand. 

“You are stronger for what they did,” Maul muttered, though the words seemed hollow. She lowered her head, she was suddenly so tired. He had to be disgusted with her weakness. Of course he was, he vauled strength and power and she had just admitted to giving up hers and letting this slaver scum break her down until she was his willing pet. 

“You don’t ever have to go back there,” Savage comforted, still slowly caressing her back. 

“He is still alive, is he not?” Maul asked in that same hollow tone. 

“He is.” 

“Then we must kill him.” His answer was immediate and harsh. “You must have your revenge.” 

Of course. Always revenge. Always payback. 

“I… I have other pursuits…” Zaiya closed her eyes and counted her breaths. She had to regain control. 

“Other…?” Maul scoffed, “what could be…?”

“Kenobi is a far more reachable target,” she said, and managed to push those feelings away. This feeling of weakness was utterly vile. Especially in the presence of those that valued strength. Finally she looked at him and his dark expression was one of contemplation. 

…His nose scrunches up when he’s angry. She thought to herself. Wait… where did that thought come from? And why was she so distracted? 

All that emotion… was she really so tired from something so simple?! Perhaps she ought to retire, if she was unable to focus. She blinked slowly and let out a slow breath. 

“You need sleep,” Feral said gently, caressing her arm. Being touched like this was so strange, usually she didn’t like to be touched at all… but Feral, Savage and Maul didn’t have the same effect on her. They seemed to be the exception. 

“I’m…” she began to protest, more out of habit than reality but Savage chuckled. 

“You’re practically falling asleep on my arm.” Zaiya jerked slightly as she realised she’d begun to lean on him. “I need to rest after everything that has happened today, I suggest we all do, the droid has the controls.” He gestured a large hand over his shoulder. 

Zaiya looked at him with a soft expression, unable to school herself as she looked at him sweetly. She cupped his chiselled cheek and rested her forehead on his. 

“I missed you, Savage. I’m so very glad you’re alright,” she confessed and Savage let out a little purr-like noise. 

“Thank you for coming for me,” he replied warmly. He reached out to help her rise and she made it to her feet. “Come on…” he insisted on escorting her, and they passed by Maul who appeared to be fuming, and the painful feeling in her gut just twisted further. He had to be disgusted by her, surely. 

Zaiya pointed the way to Savage who guided her along, much to her annoyance. She wasn’t invalid! Moreover Savage was the injured one! After a few sleepy steps she shook her head to clear it, walking forward normally and leading Savage to the sleeping quarters. 

In the background she could hear Feral talking with Maul, it almost sounded heated, but she wasn’t sure she could look at Maul at that moment. It just hurt too much. 

She said goodnight to Savage and he chose a room to sleep, while she too returned to her own bunk. She was very glad Sixy was there to pilot… she was out the moment her head hit the pillow.

Notes: I believe we have a few new readers and that is so very exciting. I love the influx of new people and the comments of "I wasn't sure if I'd like this, but I am really enjoying it!" It brings me a lot of joy. Recently I found you can buy Rancor plushes at build-a-bear and you guys just know… I wanna get one and put a yellow ribbon on it. T^T So that's my current obsession.

As for the next chapter, Maul finally breaks his silence and Zaiya has some wild visions. As always, comments really keep me motivated and excited to keep going. It's been pretty difficult lately and I hope that this week the looming dread I have will dissipate and I can get back to writing a bit more. Next week I will be posting more Sins, so if you enjoy my characters, I encourage you to check it out. Thank you!

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[ner-runi-cuyir-gar]

Kaz settles in with you for the evening, finding solace in your presence and the boys’ joy and laughter. 

Alone and surrounded only by the quiet hum of his ship, Chernan navigates toward an Imperial base, having received a report from Galin that both Sidious and Vader would be there. And, as always, Galin was correct. Both ships rest outside the base on the landing pad, Vader’s extravagant fighter far outdoing the ugly shuttle Sidious uses. Because unlike Sidious, Vader refuses to let other people fly him places. Looks like Anakin could never quite let that part of his passions die. 

He sends in his chain code for clearance when asked, not recognizing the Imperial Officer’s voice. There are fewer and fewer clones, these days. Did Vader want that, too? Or was that an order he could not veto? 

After receiving approval to land, Chernan flies toward the designated landing pad and slowly lowers the ship down. He sits for a minute or two in the near silent cockpit, studying the base as he gathers his thoughts.

He… may die, here, today. But there are two things of which he is absolutely certain. 

First, he will get Anakin home to you. 

And second… 

Today, he will assassinate the Emperor. 

He turns and makes sure all his weapons are ready, also checking to see if any of his blasters are jammed. When everything seems up to par, he lowers the ramp and walks off his ship, his chin held high as he enters the dark and looming Imperial tower. 

“State your business,” a Storm trooper stops him. 

“Here to deliver news about a very important bounty,” Chernan drawls, tilting his head a little, “It’s above your paygrade, trooper. You’ll want to let me pass, unless you’re looking for consequences from the Emperor himself.” 

The trooper grumbles something under his breath but he steps aside anyway, watching Chernan stroll down the long, midnight black hallway, the oval-shaped lights lining the walls and reflecting off his freshly-polished armor. 

He approaches the door of the throne room that has been put in place in every single Imperial establishment, because the Emperor is just that entitled. Piece of shit. Wrinkly piece of shit. Chernan has already decided that if he ever starts looking like that, he’ll put a bullet in his brain. Plain and simple. And yet this man continues to parade around the galaxy like he’s something special. 

Well, to many people, he probably is something special. Revered, even. People would die for him. 

Unlike them, Chernan will die killing him. 

One deep breath is all it takes to kick him into gear. He inhales as deeply as he can and then exhales as he pushes the doors open and slowly waltzes inside. 

Agitated by the interruption, Sidious pauses his next command and slowly turns, sneering as Chernan walks in. “Who are you, and what do you want? Don’t you know this is a restricted room?” 

“I do,” Chernan hums, nodding slowly as he continues to approach, “You don’t know who I am?” 

“Why would I?” 

“That’s alright,” he shrugs. “You’ll know me in a minute.” 

One of the red-robed guards hurries forward to restrain Chernan, but he pulls out a vibroblade and ducks beneath the guard’s swing, pushing his arm upward to bury a blade beneath his helmet and up through his skull. 

“That’s one.” He turns to elbow the second guard in the face, cracking his ridiculously cheap helmet in the process, and unholsters his shotgun before burying two bullets simultaneously in the man’s chest. “And that’s two!” 

Sidious rises from his throne with a growl, holding his hands in front of him in preparation for the electricity. 

Chernan, unbothered, continues to reload his shotgun. There’s always been a thrill in using a mix of blasters and actual guns with bullets. It feels… old. Rough. Some people can’t comprehend it. 

“You may have struck down my guards,” Sidious says lowly, keeping Chernan distracted as the door silently opens behind him. “But you are no match for what I have in store for you.” 

“And what would that be?” Chernan challenges. 

Vader slowly steps into the room, having been summoned via the Force. He freezes in place when he recognizes the voice. The armor. 

The man. His father. 

“Chernan?” He asks quietly. 

Chernan turns, unable to hide the surprise that flickers across his face at the sight of Vader. “Ad’ika,” he addresses the man gently. 

Vader’s eye twitches slightly as he nearly short circuits trying to figure out a response. “I- what is the meaning of this?” 

“You know this man?” Sidious tilts his head, “He just killed my guards and in fact plans to assassinate me. That is why I brought you here, bumbling idiot. Terminate him immediately.” 

Chernan chuckles lowly and turns back to Sidious, shaking his head, “No. I will fight him after. I want you specifically.” He watches Sidious descend the stairs and get closer. 

And then, ignoring the dread that spreads through his body at the sight of that bright red blade extending, he gives a hum that represents a thrill for a fight. Entering a fight with confidence has always been his best chance at victory. If Sidious thinks he is unbothered, Sidious will start to cower. Maybe not right away, but eventually. 

“What, no electricity?” Chernan fake pouts, the sarcasm evident in his tone. “Such a shame- I was looking for an energy boost.” 

Sidious growls and lunges at Chernan with the saber, and amidst the ringing it makes clashing with his beskar forearm guard, Chernan swears he hears Vader protest the fight behind him. 

But even still, the young man stays planted at the door, watching them in shock. In a way, it’s a good thing- his presence is prohibiting anyone from entering and ganging up on Chernan. Perhaps that’s his plan, and Chernan isn’t giving him enough credit. 

“You ordered the slaughter of my baby girl,” he tells Sidious through gritted teeth, flipping a blade in his hand before driving it through Sidious’ arm. “Unfortunately for you, she survived. And so did her children.” 

Vader steps forward at that, having not expected such good news. They’re alive? You and- and his babies? Holy gods. 

“Lili is alive?” 

“Oh now you respond?” Chernan snarks as he dodges another lightsaber swipe, “Great timing, son.” 

Vader watches as Chernan and Sidious dance around the room, neither of them putting their full effort in yet. But of course, only he knows this, as he’s seen each of them fight individually before. 

A few minutes pass, and the fight gets more intense, with Chernan putting more force behind his punches and jabs and Sidious leaping around him with minimal effort. 

Even the wildest flips are met by a good block from Chernan- the man has been through several wars and has dedicated his work to the special forces of Mandalore since he was a young man. He can fend for himself. 

Until… he can’t. Sidious manages a jab of his saber through Chernan’s shoulder and the man stumbles back, a bit surprised. The momentary shock is enough advantage for Sidious, who reaches a hand out and envelopes Chernan in a blinding blanket of hot white light. 

Chernan lets out a shout at the pain and drops to the floor, writhing for several moments before Sidious pauses. 

“And at last, the bug flies into the trap,” Sidious murmurs, panting, “You gave me a run for my money, Mandalorian, but you are no match. You never will be.” 

“Tell that to your grave when I throw you in it,” Chernan says hoarsely, pushing himself up to his feet even with his now injured shoulder. “I can go all week, old man.” 

Sidious growls and electrocutes Chernan again, making sure the electricity pays significant attention to areas of his body that aren’t as protected. Vader takes a step forward, as if to stop him, but Chernan pulls out of the shock again and they launch into another round of fighting. 

For what feels like forever, he watches them fight, and it’s clear that Chernan doesn’t think he’s making it out of here alive. Because he has never seen his father fight this hard, this fast, this efficiently. Sidious is injured. Far more injured than Vader honestly expected him to be. But so is Chernan. He limps around and uses his body weight and force strategically, not wanting to overwork himself any more than necessary. 

And then something shifts. The fight becomes more hopeless. Because as Vader’s eyes follow the arc of Sidious’ blade, he realizes that, if it lands, Chernan will be dead in a matter of seconds. 

He leaps forward then, position himself between the two of them, taking the swipe for Chernan. Pain courses through his back but he doesn’t react, as he’s too focused on the rigid look of despair in Chernan’s posture.

“Anakin,” he breathes between his heavy pants, shaking his head. “No.” 

Vader whirls anyway and tackles Sidious to the ground, igniting his own saber as Sidious shoves him off. 

“You betray me?” Sidious asks, sneering once again. “You dare turn your back on me and take sides with this imbecile?” 

“He’s my father.” Vader snaps. “I won’t let you kill him.” 

Sidious straightens and studies him for a long moment. Then, he gives a slow, knowing nod as realizations takes over his demeanor. “And so the lost little boy nearly loses another parent. You always were fueled by her. Your mother.” 

“Don’t.” 

“It’s true. Your mother, your wife… everything about you has been fueled by the woman to whom you are far too attached-” he grunts as Vader starts to choke him without even lifting a finger. 

White hot rage blurs his vision but sharpens his focus, and he lunges for Sidious, the two of them a blazing ball of flips, kicks, red blades, and impressive Force skills Chernan could only dream of having. 

He watches from the floor as they fight, knowing he’s both losing blood and consciousness. But he needs to watch, he needs to make sure Anakin is okay. He’ll rejoin the fight in a moment- his body is just… shutting down momentarily. 

He digs through his belt pocket to find a stim, his hand trembling a little as he lifts it up and jabs it into his thigh. The energy shot is like another bolt of lightning through his system, only this one doesn’t hurt. 

After just a few more moments, he’s able to rejoin the fight, right alongside Anakin as they work to take down this cruel, vile man.

It occurs to him while they fight that he could not have done this alone. He would have absolutely died. Maybe he still will. But… fighting with Anakin is both a hint of fond memories and a major help. Maybe this will be his dying act and Vader will be forever changed, motivated to come home to you and the babies. 

The fight goes on for yet another eternity in Vader’s eyes, with seemingly no end. Slash after slash is accompanied by vibroblades and bullets and whistling birds- a stolen weapon Chernan will later have to apologize to Drogr for taking. 

At one point, Vader thinks the fight is over, as Sidious stumbles backward a step. He looks to Chernan with a tired, bloody grin, his lip busted and a bruise forming around one of his eyes.  “It’s good to see-” he grunts as Sidious’ saber drives through his stomach all the way to the hilt, the blade protruding way out of his back. 

Chernan’s eyes widen and he lets out a furious, broken shout as Sidious retracts the blade and Vader falls to his knees. “ANAKIN!” He grabs Vader’s saber and clumsily activates its blade, thankfully striking true right through Sidious’ knee from the side. In fact it goes so far through that he even stabs the inside of Sidious’ other knee, the man stumbling to the side with a pained yell. 

Sidious throws a hand out and Chernan goes flying back, his head and back simultaneously smacking into the wall behind him. A loud crack breaks the silence and he crumples to the floor, face twisting in agony at the pain shooting through his back and spine. 

He watches with blurred vision as Sidious moves back over to Vader, the young man’s wheezing filling his ears. “An-Anakin… get up.” 

When Anakin doesn’t and simply stares up at his new Master in both defiance and rage, Chernan weakly unclasps the strap holding his favorite pistol in place. His bloodied hand causes him to slip off the strap but he quickly recovers, fumbling with it a few more moments. Panic builds in him as Sidious focuses his electricity on Vader now, the man screaming in agony at the sheer power of the shocks. And, what Chernan doesn’t know, is that Vader is being attacked in the Force, too, his very presence the target of Sidious’ darkness and fury, his mind being pulled apart bit by bit until he’ll end up brainless and unresponsive. 

Vader holds his head and curls into a ball, writhing violently with the shocks. 

With all the strength and energy he can muster, Chernan lifts his pistol, doing his best to stop trembling so he can aim right. Something happens, then, almost as if someone is kneeling next to him. He can feel them, but he cannot see them. A hand rests on top of his and another holds his arm steady, prepping him for the perfect shot. 

And together, Shmi Skywalker and Chernan Ordo free Anakin with a single bullet that rips through Sidious’ head and sends him limply to the floor. 

Once he’s sure Sidious won’t get back up, Chernan drops his pistol and slumps against the wall, reveling in the peace and silence that follows. No bright lightning. No screams of agony or furious growls. Just… him and his son, both broken and bloodied, probably on the brink of death. 

“I’m- I’m s-sorry, Anakin,” he rasps as loud as he can, shaking his head a little. “I’m sorry. I wanted- to bring you h-home.” 

“D-Dad?” Vader slowly looks over, forcing himself into a crawling position and dragging himself across the floor to Chernan. “Your- your back, I heard it-” 

“Mhm,” Chernan nods a little, “Can’t feel my legs. ‘M gonna be fine. You gonna be f-fine?” 

Vader tears up and rests a hand on Chernan’s arm, desperately trying to summon any bit of light to heal him. “‘M so sorry.” He grabs his comm and shakily activates his ship, knowing he needs to be ready to go immediately.

And despite all his pain, he slowly gets to his feet, gritting out a pained sound as he scoops Chernan into his arms. He winces at the loud yell of pain Chernan belts out, but he keeps going, desperate to get out of the Empire and somewhere safe for him. 

The two of them don’t speak on the way to Vader’s ship. They just… exist in the presence of one another, neither of them really knowing if Chernan will make it just yet. 

“Wh-Where is she?” he finally asks as he places Chernan in the cot on his ship, “I swear to you I’ll be okay. They’re safe with me.” 

“T-Tatooine,” Chernan murmurs, nearly passing out by now, “She’s on Tatooine w-with the kids. Don’t- don’t go- to the covert… they’ll kill you.” He fights to stay awake, wanting to get the last part out, “Go t-to the hote in the city. Room 3B. ‘S mine and Cole’s f-for extra safety.” 

His vision fades to black and Vader hurries to his own seat, taking off from the base just as the alarms start to sound. 

Sidious has been discovered, and he has been discovered missing. What will come next? 

None of that matters. What matters is getting his father to safety, getting him healed, and seeing his family once again. 

He lets himself rest on the way to Tatooine, having become numb to the pain in his back by this point. He’s had worse, anyway. And Chernan is facing more threatening injuries. Will he be paralyzed for the rest of his life? If he doesn’t get a Healer fast enough? 

Vader forces himself not to think about it and lands in the space port an hour or so later, dragging Chernan to the hotel and into the room. People thankfully leave him alone due to who he is, but that only sends a rumor through the community who love their new Mando protectors so very much. 

That rumor spreads quickly, like wildfire, until Cole - who was in fact searching the covert for your father - races into the new family quarters. 

“Vader is here,” he says panicked, grabbing every rifle he has, “And- and they said he has a Mando with him. In our hotel room,” he tells Kaz. “Mine and father’s.” 

Kaz straightens. “I will go with you. You can’t fight him alone.” 

“The people said they’re both injured,” Cole shakes his head, “I will be able to kill him myself if he’s down.” 

“What?” I come out of the boys’ room after putting them down for a nap, “Dad brought him here!?”

[skysaunter]

             𝙸𝚃 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙲𝙺 𝚅𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝚃 , 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝚄𝙽𝙷𝙴𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝙽𝙴𝚇𝚃 , a ferocious response that fell against him with vigorous, mounting pressure.  anakin’s presence in the force pulsed between them, bringing forth a memory that stood out sharp and bright, with sensations still so kriffing familiar.   yes.   unable to curb the impulse, his generous mouth pulled into a feral grin, excitement stirring every nerve to higher sensitivity and hunger.

             finally, his brother dearest in fury and force, was here, bringing with him an anger that had only grown stronger since their last encounter.     good.

but vader wasn’t here for a touching reunion.  not now, anyway.   he turned his attention back to his former master, still sprawled pathetically on the floor, his deformed face drained of color, his wide, unblinking eyes fixed in a grotesque mask of 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇.   vader glared down at the crumpled heap of a man almost incomprehensibly.  was this it?  one swift thrust of a lightsaber to the neck was all it took to kill the great and terrible sith lord, darth sidious?

upper lip raised in an unmistakable show of revulsion, vader drove his booted foot into sidious’s side, the muffled snap of bone ricocheting off the walls as the limp body skidded across the carpet and collided with a bolted chair with a sickening crunch.   sidious did not get up.

              ❝you’re late,❞ vader remarked from over his shoulder, not trusting even sidious’s corpse enough to fully turn his back.  the conniving bastard likely had several fail-safes in place, and it was only a matter of time before they would activate — whatever they were, however they would manifest.   ❝you must have many questions.❞

in truth, vader had harbored a hope that sidious would put up a more formidable challenge, or at least remained sufficiently alive long enough for him to savor the exact moment his former master’s eyes would widen in horrified realization as vader’s gloved hand plunged into the pliant flesh of his belly, tearing through muscle and viscera with the kind of casual brutality that only years of systematic dehumanization could perfect.

this wasn’t just a revenge fantasy; it was a meticulously choreographed symphony of pain and retribution, each note a reflection of the relentless torment sidious had inflicted on him—on a mere child, no less—over an protracted span of years.

would that have been enough to satisfy his thirst for revenge?  no, probably not.   even so, the satisfaction derived from keeping the wretched old man alive, if only to prolong his suffering, held a certain appeal.  however, after sidious struck down windu during a momentary lapse of confusion, all bets were off.  there existed no redemption for a sith, and vader had no intention of sparing a man who had never once shown him mercy.

❝it was my expectation that our old friends here would have disclosed the truth to you by now.❞  sulfuric-yellow eyes slid towards the other body sprawled on the floor, ostensibly motionless.  mace windu was not yet dead, but his survival was tenuous—medical attention was his only hope.   ❝i should have known better.❞

this was not the gift vader had planned to give anakin.   sidious should still be alive.  they should have fought side by side — united, twin brothers destined to bring  𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐓𝐇𝐄  ��𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄.  but sidious, the scheming, crafty little worm, had ruined everything.

Had everything he worked for been a lie? There he was standing there looking at the mirror version of himself. There was one major difference, the dark side was strong with him. Anakin had chosen the side of the light. He walked the path of a Jedi. His twin... did not. His master was dead. No wonder Padme had been confused at times. She had thought him as angry and unpredictable at times. He didn't know it him.

Did the council know about him having a twin brother? What were they not telling him? So many thoughts ran through his head as his eyes trailed from the former Sith Lord to his brother. "What's your name?" He needed to know. Still circling in his mind, he didn't want to strike him down. The Jedi Council was gone as was Windu. He saw his body off to the side. What had he done?

@skysaunter

[swan2swan]

Do you ever think about how Yoda was telling Anakin “Death is a natural part of life" and was then clutching his chest and dropping his cane as he sensed all of his friends and family dying? 

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

Rewatching this scene for the sweet angst, something struck me. In hindsight it's extremely obvious but I'd never thought about it this way.

There's the very obvious parallels with Qui-Gon's death, down to Satine caressing Obi-Wan's cheek, there's that amazing bit of mirrored exchange, where Obi-Wan starts off confrontational and angry and Maul gloating, and then Obi-Wan becomes soft-spoken and empathetic and Maul starts to shake with rage and pain and can't even properly face him, and then there's this.

Maul boasts that the Dark Side is "more powerful than [Obi-Wan] knows," that Obi-Wan's "noble flaw" is a weakness, so why is he trying to make him more powerful? Why tell him to use the Dark Side? Why basically give him a crash course about how it works? Does he want Obi-Wan to retaliate? To escape?

The obvious answer is that Maul isn't trying to make Obi-Wan more powerful. After all, he's well aware that Obi-Wan is a dogshit fighter when he's angry.

Immediately after that last quote, he says "that is not the Jedi way, is it?" as a taunt, and again in The Lawless, he insists "You should have chosen the Dark Side, Master Jedi."

So he's simply trying to destroy him as a Jedi, right? Because he knows that's what make Obi-Wan who he is, and he blames Obi-Wan for robbing him of his status along with his life, so he wants to destroy Obi-Wan's life in the ways that matter (since, as Obi-Wan says, just killing him is nothing like destroying him). But if that's the case, then we're back to the "power" issue. What's the point of destroying Obi-Wan if it's by giving him what Maul claims is his own identity, and the key to freedom?

And imo the answer lies right here:

Why would killing Satine make Obi-Wan share Maul's pain? Why would Maul regard the pain of losing a loved one (something he's completely unfamiliar with at this point) as equal to his torment? Why isn't he chopping Obi-Wan in half and keeping him alive with Nightsister magick instead? Why would the murder of one of Obi-Wan's loved ones, picked almost at random, be THE "moment" Maul has been thinking about "for years"?

I think he really isn't talking about Satine's murder in and of itself when he talks of pain. The pain he wants Obi-Wan to share isn't the pain of loss, but very simply the pain of living in the Dark Side.

That's why Satine really is just a "tool" to his vengeance, as he says, and not the main point. That's why he's so enraged that Obi-Wan insists on showing him compassion even through his fear and anger - being kind leaves you open to grief but protects from the agony of the Dark.

Maul wants Obi-Wan to Fall, to stop being a Jedi, not because he truly believes the Dark Side gives you good things, but because he knows the Dark Side makes you miserable.

He tries to freaking teach Obi-Wan how to Fall, like Obi-Wan is a Sith apprentice, because being a Sith is the most miserable you're ever going to get! He tries to make Obi-Wan suffer by making him like him! He's so self-loathing his hatred of Obi-Wan materializes as self-hatred!

And hey, that greatly complements the end of the episode - Obi-Wan resists the Dark Side and escapes the planet, and Maul revels in it and immediately loses the only person he cares about and ends up crawling and crying while Sidious gleefully tortures him. Maul falls victim to every form of suffering he wanted to inflict on Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan flies away. In the end, Maul is proven right: being Fallen really f*cking sucks.

Really accentuate that Maul wanted relief above all when he sought out Obi-Wan in Rebels. He went to the only person who had shown him actual compassion, and the person he knew was best at resisting the Dark Side - so he could finally be free.

[kneamet]

Hi hi hi :D I loved my beautiful madness, by the way <3 I'm not sure if i could request again but can i put in another request but this time it's for Obi-Wan Kenobi or Patrick Mckenna? I had this idea from listening to the song Meant to be yours and it made me think of two ideas: a. Sith!Obi-Wan hunting down Jedi Knight!Reader as she hides during order 66, but then Obi-Wan starts professing his feelings for the reader in a very very twisted way (The lyric i based this idea from was "You were meant to be mine, i am all that you need! You cut open my heart, [you] can't just leave me to bleed!") There could be two endings to it (it's up to you if you want to add this part in hihi) 1. Reader comes out of hiding and willingly surrenders to Obi-Wan, something happens that makes the reader give in to the dark side (can be the obsessive joy that comes from Obi-Wan, or can be a short kiss) 2. Reader manages to make Obi-Wan snap and he accidentally *ahem* kills the reader; Obi-Wan has to live with the guilt of losing his love for the rest of his life AND b, Patrick and reader are dating (well, in Patrick's perspective he and the reader are dating), but then the Reader says she wants to separate herself from him, which angers Patrick and scares the reader into staying with him (Based on the lyric "You toss me out like i was trash, for that, you should be dead) and then it ends with Patrick just trying to calm the reader down from his outburst Hehe thanks so much!

The stars all belong to the Gods

Trigger Warning: angst, fear, yandere, obsession

Word Count: 2345

Character: sith!obi-wan kenobi/reader

Summary: Death could not be denied, death could not be avoided; Obi-Wan was death. Frightened by his own power, turned to the dark side, fell under the power of Darth Sidious, he was lost. Obi-Wan was mired in darkness, wrapped in the thinnest threads of madness, but he never forgot about you. The distant stars fell under his tears when he, unable to touch, watched you.

When Obi-Wan rose, the stars lit up in the sky. A great Jedi who lost a master at a young age, fought a Sith, did not succumb to the dark side — there were legends about Obi-Wan in the temple. And while the adult Jedi were whispering about him, the younglings were inspired by his story until they learned the terrible news — their revered symbol turned to the dark side, betrayed the codex and thrust a lightsaber into a student on a fiery Mustafar. When Obi-Wan fell, the only thing you felt was emptiness. An all-consuming, all-encompassing, dreary emptiness. The words struck you like thunder, and while the master was leaving, you looked at the floor in an eclipse, did not believe.

Old acquaintances, padawans with a forbidden connection, you did not hide secrets from each other, trusted each other, supported each other. Even when Obi-Wan had a student, even when there were moments of sadness and separation, you always knew: you have him, he has you — and your forbidden bond is one. Bitter nights, as soon as the walls were cold, pressed, and the dream was the worst nightmare, he came to you, saved you from a fictional villain and hugged, kissed the top of your head with weathered lips. His big rough hands stroked back, and his head lay on his shoulder — and the rest of the dream passed.

You swear when the sand of Tatooine winds in your squinting eyes, leaving grains of sand in the folds of your nondescript clothes. Boots tread on hard sand. The house — the cave, to tell the truth — in which you live was far from the city and all thanks to Order 66; an order that changed your entire former life. Sighing, you look down. There is very little time left before home and your day repeats itself from time to time: dawn is the beginning of wakefulness, day is work, sunset is sleep.

You had the fate of a martyr, and it was unclear why you continue to exist — to create or destroy? How many deaths were on your hands — and it doesn't matter, Sith, civilians — how many destroyed houses, broken destinies. How many children... Victims of your stupidity, naivety! disbelief that Obi-Wan could betray the rules, the Council, and you. His ashen body — which was in peacetime, your time, glowing, freckled — burned to scars.

Deprived of all the benefits, ruined by your own aspirations, stopped by the masters, you exiled yourself, hid in the darkness of darkness, having no light. The Jedi are gone, life is over. Reproaching yourself, eating your soul and heart with memories of poor children, you had to hide on Tatooine, in a world of sand and sadness, forgotten ideas and people. The sun was your eternal companion, withstood all the aching pain, absorbed doubts and worries, disturbed the heart.

The Sith became the lords of thoughts; seized power, possessed minds, exterminated former Jedi. There were quite a few rumors about one of the most formidable Sith — Darth Lant, famous for his elegant cruelty, exhaustion and seductive voice. He was a fallen Jedi, General Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, your Obi. He forgot everything, burned fiercely and left half-ruined cities in ashes behind him, but succumbed to the influence of your charms, gently and menacingly, to the point of trembling, whispering words of love and gently caressing.

His straw-colored hair has become stiff, long, and his hands are always wearing gloves. Obi-Wan came to you in your dreams, talked with the intonation of approaching danger and continued to talk about meeting soon. He, like the white knight, saved you from terrible monsters — which he was — and began to attack you with special pleasure. It was a shame to admit it, but the old, such familiar movements brought back the lost dignity and excitement, brought out of the terrifying confusion and pain in which the heart had been fully immersed for the last two years, and you again recalled those carefree days with little Kenobi.

He directed dreams, created them for you and built castles in the air. He came up to you with a grin, took advantage of confusion and defenselessness: he walked around from the side of the leading hand and put a sword to his throat. He enjoyed, he rejoiced, played like a child. He is your death, your time, your space, your pain. And he will be your executioner.

Your door creaks, and you immediately feel something wrong. Straining your gut, connecting with the Force — I am one with the Force — you inspect a familiar house: a bed, a carpet, wooden cabinets and a wardrobe. Your hands sweat, breathing slows down when you forcefully hear the world you know, a familiar personality, a favorite whisper. Clenching your teeth, you squeeze your lips and want to rush to the closet, but you stood there, as if chained... or someone else's the Force.

"Oh, darling, you have no idea what it's like to see you alive and completely at my mercy," a voice murmured from behind. There was a rustling, incomprehensible sounds. Obi-Wan was coming out of the second room, smiling and playfully shaking his head. "I've been dreaming about meeting you for a long time... You've changed so much in the last two years... You look different in holograms. I keep every one of them."

Long, matted hair covered an overgrown face, on which there were several scars; one healed scar crossed an eye. The light eyes turned yellow — dangerous, possessed and vindictive, such as only Sith have. The eyes of an animal, not a human. His clothes were dark, malicious, worn, and there were scars on the exposed parts of his body. Having lost his beauty, he remembered the annoying words of the code. It was driven into the head, securely fixed in it.

"I can touch you!" Obi-Wan said with childish delight, touching your face distorted in anger. His hand was shaking, but you could see the broken, bitten nails on his fingers. He barely touched you, as his face immediately transformed: he licked his lips, opened his mouth and looked at you with an incomprehensible shade of sadness. His palm continued to stroke cheek, gently and weightlessly, as if he was afraid to touch you. "You're so real..."

"Let me go, Obi-Wan," you said through the pain in your throat, through Kenobi's the Force, but he only frowned. The fingers pressed lightly on the skin. "Please..."

"Darling, don't, you won't run away. You know perfectly well that I am stronger than you. All the masters talked about it. Or should I remind you of our sparring sessions?"

"I remember them well, Obi-Wan, and I remember that you lost in the last."

"Obi-Wan lost, darling, but Darth Lant didn't lose. I could fight you now," he ran his hand over your shoulder, slowly descending lower and lower, "but I don't see any fun in it. You're weak, but you're so adorable!

It was getting painful to stand. Obi-Wan kept saying something, turning away from you, but his words flew by, didn't seem true. He stood slouched, his shoulders were heavy, his posture tense. Kenobi looked like a king surrounded by disappointed subjects; even now, no matter how much he tried to appear mocking, goofy, menacing, there was universal fatigue in him. Fatigue from the world, fatigue from the laws, fatigue from misunderstanding. Obi-Wan was promised freedom, but he continued to feel the shackles on ankles.

There was a sweet lie in the words of Darth Sidious, which he fell for. The Dark Lord looked solid, scary and creepy; Obi-Wan was kneeling in front of him, humbly lowering his head and whispering words of forgiveness with his lips, he did everything right, he did it for you! it seemed to him few years ago. But death had no love, she was a vile, mocking creature, whose wounds he successfully mashed.

In the dark, where only red and gold existed, Obi-Wan was the hero of the ashes; he emerged from the heat and pain as a champion, but continued to dream of happiness. His life was hectic and not alive, and death remained adamant. For death life was a scar — people don't live, but heal; life is a sore, a burr, a blister or a pimple. Obi-Wan had all the time in the world to retire and subdue his thoughts, but they continued to remain intrusive, free.

In moments of sadness, in moments of pain and despair, the only thing he thought about was you — your face and a sweet smile, a brisk temper and a sharp laugh, warm hugs and eternal criticism of the objectionable. Obi-Wan couldn't do anything with himself; during the fights, the murders, in the midst of the corpses of adults and children, the screams of men and the crying of women, while his trembling hand clutched a lightsaber and his face was sweaty, he thought about you. Tossing and turning on hard beds, getting lost and connecting with you in dreams; and while Darth Lant was conquering the world, Obi-Wan couldn't conquer you. His heart sank every time you turned away from him.

His palate had its throat cut long ago.

The silence was deafening. Obi-Wan, lost in thought to the core, suddenly turned to you with a confused face. His eyes seemed bright again for a couple of seconds, mired in blue and calm, and his face seemed transformed — he seemed young, handsome and yours again. The former Obi, who was not afraid to show love, who overcame madness and doubts; the former Obi-Wan, who loved you, and you loved him. What has changed?

"You... Do you want to come with me?" he was naive, he came up again and touched you. His the Force was weakening, but you continued to stay in place and not move. "I can give you the whole world!" his gaze is soulless and cold, but there is beauty in it; beauty is different, unknown. Frightening beauty. "I'll give you everything you want, I'll give you everything that's left! Just let me love you up close again... Just be mine again, please..."

He was different from what he was in dreams. You looked at him carefully and, like a second, he will fall to his knees in front of you. The rumors that spread from mouth to mouth in the city were not confirmed: in the stories of your friends, sellers in the market, ordinary workers, he appeared in the form of a terrible figure, carrying thousands of deaths, cold and torture. An evil Sith who abandoned the Codex and the Jedi; a big, scary and ironic man for whom life is just entertainment, and demise is a snap of two fingers.

"Obi-Wan, please..."

"No! Why don't you want to listen to me?! What did I do wrong?" he exclaimed, and his eyes watered for a second from the sunlight from the window. There's a damn empty desert there, no souls and only peace. Did he really want this outcome? Why did he serve the Sith? "You were meant to be mine, I am all that you need!"

A second — and something squeezes the neck, something tightens. The body rises up, you try unsuccessfully to grab air with your mouth. The breath disappears, the nose lays, the words are lost and useless. The lower jaw and stomach are shaking, the body is numb. Thousands of moments and memories flash before eyes, millions of images from a past life flash by; a life so happy, serene... That life when you were naive, because you thought you could save a fallen warrior, heal wounds.

The second second — the two of you are lying in his apartment, wrapped in a warm blanket and looking at the dark ceiling. Your hands are tightly clasped, and while Obi-Wan whispers to you sweet passions, stupidities and promises stars, you purse your lips, looking at his face — in his eyes, giving off blue, like water in the purest sea, you selflessly drown. His voice — his alluring, forbidden and such a charming voice —  extraordinary.

"You cut my heart! Left me!"

The third second — and Obi-Wan's face is distorted in anger. You take your last breath, it gets dark in your eyes, and your body falls to the dirty floor. You forget yourself, you die, you don't see how Obi-Wan's eyes turn blue again, yours. He runs up to you with an invisible expression, says something, begs for help, tries to lift you up, staggers and wraps his rough hands around you. No, no, no! The thought of death pierces through the heart, empties and almost stops beating; there is a deafening ringing in the ears.

His head bends down, and Obi-Wan touches your body with it — soulless, inanimate... He wants to scream, turn off in the languor of self-immolation, turn back time and change everything. A shaking hand ran through your tangled, clean hair, Obi-Wan hoped that you could feel him, forgive him. He hugged you, throwing the sword far away, and cried.

He kissed your back, and now he inflicted thousands of wounds there. He whispered words of tenderness to you, and now he muttered threats. Beauty remained with you even now, at the moment lost for him, when it is unknown where to move now? and will he be able to forgive himself for this nightmare? Obi-Wan returns to the house and everything is the end of life: he, absorbed and brought up by the darkness, dies, only Darth Lant remains.

Obi-Wan looked at your exhausted body and tried to preserve it. A person had a choice — a choice to love, a choice to die, a choice to be or to be, a choice to keep cold or to burn, but Obi-Wan had no choice. There was no free will. Devoid of love, devoid of emotions, devoid of home and sleep, he gets up by force, grabbing a sword, and looks at you for the last time. Darth Lant pressed his lips together and, looking away, left the cave, leaving behind his fears, his beloved and his choice.

When Obi-Wan fell, the stars cried, died.

and here im back, hooray! @jjeresano-euler, im sorry if there was something wrong and u can always ask for something else and ill write (including your second idea with patrick). i hope you enjoyed it!

[marvelstars]

Disney canon didn´t seem to tackle this part of the story yet as far as I know but there was a novel about Darth Plagueis that told this part of the story, this happens during The Phantom Menace movie.

Palpatine murdered Darth Plagueis after he was named Chancellor post invasion of Naboo, they already knew about Anakin given Count Dooku told Palpatine all about Qui-Gon´s mission on Tatooine, Dooku didn´t believe Anakin was the chosen one, Darth Plagueis wanted to kill him because he was sure he was sent by the force to stop their plan after he tried to manipulate the force to become inmortal and Palpatine thought he could use Anakin´s childhood to bring him to their side and in that way erase any possible danger Anakin could present to their plan of rebuilding the Sith Empire(The Great Plan) he also felt an affinity with Anakin given his harsh relationship with the Jedi Order and Obi-Wan at the time. and that´s what he did after he killed Plagueis.

" “Surprise and disbelief mingled in Sidious’s blue eyes. “The Force?” “Yes,” Plagueis said pensively. “But I failed to exercise due caution. As we attempt to wrest the powers of life and death from the Force, as we seek to tip the balance, the Force resists our efforts. Action and reaction, Sidious. Something akin to the laws of thermodynamics. I have been audacious, and the Force has tested me the way Tenebrous sought to. Midi-chlorians are not easily persuaded to execute the dictates of one newly initiated in the mysteries. The Force needs to be won over, especially in work that involves the dark side. It must be reassured that a Sith is capable ofaccepting authority. Otherwise it will thwart one’s intentions. It will engineer misfortune. It will strike back.”

"Palpatine had contacted him to recount a conversation he had with Dooku. The fact that Qui-Gon Jinn had identified Maul as a Sith was to be expected; but Dooku’s news about a human boy at the center of a vergence of the Force had come as a shock. More, Qui-Gon saw the boy as the Jedi’s prophesied Chosen One! He had to see this Anakin Skywalker for himself; had to sense him for himself. He had to know if the Force had struck back again, nine years earlier, by conceiving a human being to restore balance to the galaxy. Plagueis fell back a step, his thoughts reeling. There was still a chance that the Council would decide that Anakin was too old to be trained as a Jedi. That way, assuming he was returned to Tatooine … But if not … If Qui-Gon managed to sway the Council Masters, and they reneged on their own dictates … Plagueis ran a hand over his forehead. Are we undone? he thought. Have you undone us?”

" Sate Pestage accompanied Obi-Wan Kenobi and his young Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, to Palpatine's temporary office in the Building. cio of the Senate Both Jedi wore light colored robes, cloaks browns and high boots. Facsimiles of each other.

"Thank you both for accepting my invitation," Palpatine said, knowing coming from behind a large, polished desk to greet them. coming-. Please sit down, both of you," he added, gesturing. to the chairs that were in front of the desk and the large window behind it. Anakin had almost sat up when Obi-Wan snapped at him with a shake of the head "Thank you, Supreme Chancellor," the short-bearded Jedi said, "but we will stay standing.

He crossed his arms in front of him and waited for for Anakin to join him before saying, "We realize that his time is valuable. Returning to his chair, Palpatine smiled receptively. "Not too valuable to spend on two of the people who they saved my queen's life and rescued my home planet from the Trade Federation lands. —He kept his eyes fixed on Obi- Wan—

I am sorry for the loss of Qui-Gon Jinn, Master Obi-Wan. The Jedi nodded gratefully. "I have only recently been made a Jedi Knight, Chancellor Supreme,” he said then. Palpatine adopted a surprised expression. "And he's already been assigned an apprentice." Qui-Gon must have brilliantly trained. Again, Obi-Wan nodded. — He was an inspiring teacher. Palpatine firmed his lips and shook his head. "Such a waste of life..."

He moved his gaze from him to Anakin. I didn't get a chance on Naboo to thank you, young man. skywalker. Your actions were nothing short of extraordinary. river. May the Force be with you always just as strongly.

"Thank you, sir," Anakin said in a calm voice.

Palpatine interlocked the fingers of his hands. “I'm told you grew up on Tatooine. I was visiting there Many years ago. Anakin's eyes narrowed for a very long moment. brief. “I grew up there, sir, but I'm not supposed to talk about it.

Palpatine saw him look up at Obi-Wan.

-And why is that?

-My mother... "Anakin," Obi-Wan snapped as a rebuke.

Palpatine leaned back slightly, studying the two of them. Obi Wan seemed to have noticed the fury that shone from the boy, but for an instant Palpatine felt a touch of his younger self in skywalker. The need to challenge authority. The gift for hidding his emotions. The power still unrecognized.

"I apologize if I have provoked something between you," he said afterward. for a moment Clearly uncomfortable, Obi-Wan shifted in his place. "We Jedi are trained to live in the moment, Canciller Supreme. Our birth has little to do with our lives. Give in the Force. Palpatine frowned at him. "It's easy for a baby, I'm sure, but for a young boy...

He broke off with a negligent gesture. well who am i to pass judgment on the Order's dogmas from him, when the Jedi they have kept peace in the Republic for a thousand years.

Obi-Wan didn't say anything definitively.

"But tell me, Padawan Skywalker, what does it feel like to have con- poured into a member of such a revered group?

"It's like a dream come true, sir," Anakin said gently. genuine sincerity

"A dream come true... So you've thought a lot about the Jedi Order and in the Force?

Anakin nodded. I've always wanted to bring justice...

"It's not up to you to decide your fate, Anakin," Obi-said. Wan

— The Force will guide you.

Palpatine smiled to himself. It will lead you to me, young man skywalker. Dooku was talented and could be someone powerful to occupy the position. But this nice-faced, seemingly innocent boy, this child powerful in the Force, was the one he would take as learning from him- he says and would use him to execute the final stages of the Great Plan. Of- he would let Obi-Wan instruct him in the ways of the Force and leave that Skywalker would grow bitter over the next decade as he After his mother grew old in slavery, the galaxy deteriorated at his of him around him and his fellow Jedi fell into inextricable conflict. He was too young to be trained in the ways of the Sith, in any case, but he was the perfect age to form a bond with a father figure who would listen to all of his problems and cajole him. he laughed inexorably for him to go over to the dark side.

"As I told you on Naboo, Anakin," he finally said, we will be following your career with great interest. And I will make sure that it culminates in the ruin of the Jedi Order and the redescent of the Sith.

Darth Plagueis by James Luceno

I’m not sure why I thought this as a kid, but what Palpatine was telling Anakin about Darth Plageuis and how he “could create life”, I assumed the implication was that Plageuis had some hand in creating Anakin and once Palps caught wind of it, he murdered Plageuis.

I know that the timeline wouldn’t mash up probably as Palpatine likely killed his master before Ani was born, but 🤷‍♀️ I dunno.

[cyberfeather]

If you want to, how about "I hate seeing you like this...please, let me help." from the prompt list with Fox? And maybe also with Wolffe, or whoever you're feeling? Thank you!

Thank you so much for the ask anon! 💗 Here’s Wolffe comforting Fox in an AU where the chip conspiracy was discovered and Palpatine got killed in battle by the Jedi, but he used the inhibitor chip to turn Fox against his batchmates during that final fight. I hope you’ll like it!

Prompts list

"I hate seeing you like this...please, let me help." - Fox & Wolffe

Fox is sitting in a corner of the Chancellor’s office, curled up in a ball. His whole body aches from bruises and probably a few broken bones, but it’s nothing compared to the crushing weight of what he’s done.

The Sith lord is dead, and his brothers of the Coruscant Guard are finally safe, but no thanks to him. Not when his actions could have condemned them all. Tears are gathering at the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t let them fall, just like he represses his sobs. He doesn’t feel like he has any right to express his misery or burden anyone with it.

When Wolffe crouches next to him, Fox can’t bear to look at him in the eyes, not when all he can see is the still fuming blaster shot on his sibling’s forearm. How can he deserve any compassion, when he’s the one responsible for this?

“You should leave me alone.” He murmurs, barely loud enough to be heard.

“When you’re obviously hurt? I don’t think so. C’mon, let’s take you to a medic.”

Wolffe offers a hand to help him stand up, but Fox refuses it with a shake of his head. His sibling’s kindness just makes the raging self-hatred that burns in his chest even worse. He doesn’t understand how Wolffe has it in his heart to care for him.

“Why are you even bothering with me? I’m not worth it.”

Fox can’t see the way Wolffe frowns upon hearing him, but he definitely feels the hand on his shoulder when his brother sits next to him.

“Don’t say that kind of things, Fox’ika. Of course you’re worth it, you’re my brother! Force, I hate seeing you like this...please, just let me help.”

His touch and words are comforting, and Fox wishes for nothing more than to melt into it, but he can’t. Not with how he’s failed him, how he’s failed their whole batch. Wolffe shouldn’t be concerned with him. In the chaos of battle, Fox has seen Bly get injured, and Rex too, struck by force lightning. Wolffe should be staying by their side, not his.

“How are you not mad at me? If General Kenobi… If he hadn’t stopped me, I… I would have killed Cody.”

As Fox speaks, rapid memories flash before his mind. Of the Jedi coming to confront the Chancellor about inhibitor chips, their lit lightsabers in hand. Of his batchmates accompanying them. Of the terrible words. Order 66. Good soldiers follow orders. Of his whole world revolving around eliminating traitors and nothing else. Of himself putting all his strength and skills into trying to murder his own brothers, and Force, how could they ever forgive him?

Whenever he closes his eyes, the moment when he almost struck down Cody unfolds again and again. He had him in his line of sight, would have pulled the trigger, would have killed him without remorse, if General Kenobi hadn’t force-pushed him into a wall just in time. And to make it worse, it gave Sidious the opening he needed to attack the Jedi, and now Kenobi is missing an arm all because of Fox, and Cody will never look at him the same again…

Fox only realizes he has started sobbing loudly when Wolffe wraps his arms around him and pulls him close. He fondly threads his fingers through Fox’s hair, in the way that always managed to calm him down when they were still cadets. It helps keep the intruding thoughts away. That’s so much more than Fox deserves, but he can’t find it in himself to push his brother away. Instead, he clings to Wolffe like a traumatized shiny who just survived his first battle would.

“Don’t blame yourself, none of it was your fault. You were under the influence of Sidious, may that bastard rot in hell. He’s the one who made you do all this.”

“That’s not an excuse!” Fox blurts out “I should have been strong enough to resist it! I… Kriff, I hurt you… It was my role to protect you, and instead, I hurt you…”

“You were manipulated by a Sith, Fox! No vod would have been strong enough to resist him. If anything, we should be the ones sorry for not noticing something was wrong earlier. So please, just let us fix our mistakes and look after you.”

“But, Bly and Rex, they’re… And Cody… Because of me, his General… He’s… They’ll hate me, Wolffe!”

Fox tries to stay coherent, he really does, but it’s hard when his weakened body is trembling with every sob. His mind and emotions feel like they’re in shambles, too. Wolffe sighs and keeps stroking the back of his head in an affectionate manner.

“Now, that’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard you say. Of course, they won’t. We love you, you idiot. Force, you have no idea how horrifying it was when Sidious activated your chip. How terrified we were of never getting you back, vod’ika.”

There’s a shaking edge to Wolffe’s voice, one that’s usually reserved for when he talks of the troopers he lost to the Malevolent. His words are filled with so much sincerity that it finally hits Fox: his brothers love him still, and they’ll keep on loving him, no matter how much he despises himself. Fox can barely comprehend how or why, but he’s hurt and exhausted, and the warmth of Wolffe’s arms feels right.

“Let me take you to the medbay. Let me show our brothers you’re you again. I’m sure they’re all worried. Rex almost refused to follow the medics because he wanted to stay with you, you know. So please, come with me?”

That’s what finally decides Fox; the need to see for himself if their siblings are doing alright. In the end, he’s still their ori’vod. If his batchmates still want him by their side, then it’s his duty to look after them. He silently nods his agreement and his brother helps him to his feet. His legs are still wobbly and he winces from the pain, but with some help from Wolffe, he manages to stay upright.

His vod keeps an arm wrapped under his shoulder, strong and reassuring, as he guides him away from the Chancellor’s office and all the awful memories he associates it with. Fox leans on him in more ways than one, too drained out not to accept his help, even if he’s still not completely sure he deserves it. Still, Wolffe deems him worthy of love and care, and Fox is in desperate need of both, so where’s the hurt in letting his brother win that battle? Not that Fox really stood a chance to begin with: Wolffe has always been the stubborn one of their batch, after all.

                                                  ~~~~~

Wolffe smiles softly when his vod finally accepts his help, although timidly. A twinge of guilt grips at his heart for not intervening before things got this bad, for how oblivious he’s been of the Guard’s silent suffering, but he pushes it aside. Now is not the time for regrets, not when Fox needs him more than ever. He can tell it will take time to repair all the damage caused by Palpatine and rebuild Fox’s confidence, but he’ll be there every step of the way.

[redheadjustin]

STAR WARS: SAVING THE CHOSEN ONE

Please note I have messed with the timeline a bit. Pong Krell was executed in season 5 of Star wars: the clone wars. Please understand that any changes are so I better interact with the universe.

  The force watched in despair. The planet was devastated from the battle between the two force users. Rocks with marks from lightsabers layed scattered from being hurled as weapons to distract the opponent and create an opening. Finally, the blue lightsaber of the graying redhead struck across the helmet of the sith. The redhead man, once known as Obi-Wan Kenobi, was shocked yet relieved to see the burnt and scar face of his Former padawan. The sith that was on his knees struggling to breathe was sith lord Darth Vader or as he was known years ago, Anakin Skywalker Jedi knight, the hero with no fear, the hero of tomorrow, chosen one who was supposed to destroy the sith and bring balance to the force.

The force itself watched, saddened by the turn of events that occurred years ago that the force was powerless to stop. The force watched as Palpatine killed Kit Fisto and two other members of the Jedi consul. It watched as Mace Windu and Papatine dueled until the Jedi had the sith down for the count until Anakin came and chopped Mace’s hand off thus allowing the sith to kill the Jedi. The force watched as Anakin was forced to join the sith to save his wife. It watches as the sith issued order sixty six and began the Jedi purge.

The force watched as the chosen one lost the duel with his former master. And it watched as Anakin Skywalker lost his wife and his unborn child. It watched as Padme Amadalia died of a broken heart after she gave birth to the twins Luke and Leah Skywalkwer. It watched as the twins were separated and the remaining Jedi went into hiding. But, the force always focused on the former chosen one. Yes, Qui-Gon Jinn had been right all those years ago. And the force was saddened by how far Anakin had fallen. The force could have intervened at any time it wanted to but it held out hope that Anakin would turn back to the light. But, those hopes never came to fruition.

The force watched with regret as Obi-Wan walked to his former padawan and brother. The blue blade of the lightsaber that Anakin knew so well raised above him and the fallen Jedi knew it was the end. He looked deep into Obi-Wan’s eyes, this caught the old Jedi off guard. The former Jedi had a sad smile on his burnt lips. “I’m sorry Obi-Wan. I’m sorry for everything. Go ahead, it’s okay master. I’ll see Padme again.” as he spoke the sith’s eyes reverted back to their blue color. The red haired Jedi smiled back just as sadly tears forming in his aged eyes. “You’re forgiven my padawan.” The emotion in Obi-Wan’s voice was thick as he began to bring the saber down.

The force decided enough was enough and froze time around the galaxy. The blue blade froze as did everything else. The force knew Anakin was the only one who COULD end Palpitine’s rineg of terror and bring balance. But, it was too late. The second the force unfroze time the blade would go down on Anakin’s neck, killing him. The force knew that even if it could intervene here it wouldn’t matter. Anakin was more machine than man now and would be no match to Darth Sidious. The force knew the only option was to change history to prevent the fall of the republic. But, then the question was how to keep Anakin from falling. The force pondered this until it recalled another of its favorites. A young human boy that was a Jedi at the time. He was a Padawan without a master at the time. Ah yes, the force recalled young sixteen year old Justin Bush. a very talented Jedi but he fell as well. Now he wasn’t known as Justin Bush but rather as the first brother. The more the force thought of it it made sense. Rewind time and send a message to Yoda to assign Justin as Anakin’s first padawan left the Jedi order thus perhaps stopping Anakin’s fall to the darkside. The force smiled as it watched as time started to rewind. This could save the galaxy and give happiness to two who deserved it the most.

21 BBY (season 5 of Star wars the clone wars) Justin POV

I sighed as I stared into the mirror of the fresher in my room that was in the apartment I share with my Master, Pong Krell. I did not like what I saw in the mirror. Not one bit. Bruises, marks, cuts and scars were what met my brown eyes. All of which were inflicted by my “master”. My skin was more scared than what it should be for a fourteen year old that hasn't seen a day of this war. It was the same thing since I was assigned to Master Krell when I was thirteen. A year ago. A year of abuse and harsh training. Master Krell was one of the prominent generals in the clone wars yet, he never took me into battle. He always cited my autism. But I knew that was a bunch of bantha shit. He just didn’t want to risk anyone finding out about my abuse. I used to wear sleeveless robes that showed my toned, freckled arms. But now I wear sleeves to hide the cuts and marks. I hardly talked to any of my friends anymore. Well, except Cal. Cal is like a little brother and has yet to find a master despite him being the best of his group.

I eat alone. I train alone. I study alone. I am alone. My Master has isolated me from the rest of the Jedi order. I feel an anger bubble up in my very being as I can’t take my eyes off of my body. The only part that remains undamaged is my face. Well, on the outside. But, no one can deny how my eyes are more heavy, having lost their shine long ago. I wanted to punch the mirror that showed me what I’d become. A shell of a padawan who was too scared to reveal his abuse to the Jedi counsel. I was glad my “master” had gone on a mission with the five hundred and first. It gave me some time to heal but not a lot.

The entire temple was somber. It was only a month after Asoka Tanno left the order. And I couldn’t exactly blame her. The Jedi bent to the pressure of the senate and expelled Asoka. It turned out that Barris Offree was the one who blew the hanger up. I didn’t know either of them well but they were always nice to me. Barris wasn’t the only one who had lost faith in the Jedi. I was starting too and I knew it must have been the same for Anakin Skywalker. I knew he was of course. He was the hero with no fear and the chosen one. I knew he was accepted into the order at nine. I also knew that he blamed the counsel for the death of his mother. And I also knew he blamed the counsel for bowing to the senate. And to be honest? I don’t blame him.

I was pulled out of my musing by a knock at the apartment door. It must have been the droid with the mail. I didn’t bother to put my tunic on as it was a droid and was programmed to not report anything we didn’t want it too. As I approached the door I didn’t notice the force signature on the other side of the door. I really wish I had some damn caf. I opened the door expecting to see the mail droid but instead I saw Master Obi-wan Kenobi. The fellow redhead’s eyes widened slightly before going back to normal.

“Good morning Padawan Bush, I was here to inform you the Jedi council wished to speak with you, but it appears that a trip to the healers is in order afterwards.” The famed negotiator of the Jedi order said taking in every mark, burse, cut and scar on my body. My face flushed with embarrassment as I looked down while summoning my tunic from my room with the force. “Master Kenobi, I wasn’t expecting you this morning.” The amused smirk that appeared on the council member’s face didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I can see that. Now, you can do your tunic on the way to the council’s chamber. There's an urgent matter we must discuss with you.” And with that the redhead started to walk leaving me to stumble after him. As I walked I did my tunic tight as Master Kenobi had seen my abuse and I would already be forced into a trip to the healers. I didn’t need to expose my abuse. “Master” Krell would kill me. And no, I don’t mean that figuratively. As we walked towards the tower that housed the Jedi council’s chamber I didn’t notice Master Obi-Wan communicating through his bond with the rest of the Council. The ride in the turbolift was calm if not slow. I felt waves of calm dousing the fire of my nerves.

I had always been told that my emotions in the force were like an explosion. That I had an aura about me that made people want to protect me and soothe me when I’m in distress. The turbolift doors open revealing a long hall to a single door. I remember being down this hall when I was four, when I was first brought to the temple after my parents died. I remembered being carried in a padawan's arms as I tried to stop my sobs. I remember him rubbing circles on my back. I remember the words of comfort he whispered in my ear. I remember him wiping the blood from the cut in the middle of my eyebrow. I remember so much of him but I don’t remember his name.

I was brought to the present by Master Obi-Wan’s voice. “Padawan, Wait out here while I inform the Council of your arrival.” I nodded as he walked into the Council chamber. The second the doors slid closed I felt a feeling of dread fill me. something was wrong. I just knew it. Something had changed but I Didn’t know what. I also knew Master Kenobi would most likely mention my injuries and I knew that I couldn’t try to lie. I wanted to. But, the force told me to do so would be stupid. I played with my padawan braid as I waited for the doors to the Jedi council to open. Sometimes I wish I had been sent to the service corps. At least there I would have never incurred the abuse I had. The doors to the chamber opened.  It felt as though the Force was making me walk into the chamber but I did so all the same.

As I walked in I couldn’t help but notice that only half the council was prescient. Oppo Rancisis, Yoda, Adi Gallia, Eeth Koth, Mace Windu, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Kit Fisto were the ones present. I could feel each council member’s eyes on me, as if staring into my soul. Each Member’s eyes were filled with different emotions. Sadness, Pity, understanding, distrust and many others. But, I kept what little calm I could muster as I prepared to answer the council’s questions.

“Young one, Good to see you, it is.” Master Yoda greeted me with a smile and his ears poking upwards. Master Yoda had always been one of my favorite Jedi masters around the temple as he and I had a special bond. I was the only autistic Jedi in the order and had a lot of issues with conitrateing and being able to keep my emotions under wrapps.  Yoda had taken me under his wing to avoid any issues as I grew older. I sometimes think he would have taken me as his padawan had the war not happened.

“It’s nice to see you as well Master Yoda.” I said with a smile and a bow of respect. It felt relaxed when Master Yoda spoke to me, as though he knew my nerves and was trying to keep me calm. Unfortunately, someone had to shatter this. “Padawan, we don’t have time for the pleasantries. We have received troubling reports about your master and we have questions.” Master Windu said with contempt in his voice. He always disliked me. It always bothered me but I kept my calm.

“What Master Windu means,” Master Obi-Wan said with a slight glare at Master Windu. “Is that some disturbing events have occurred that involved your Master. And as his Padawan we have some questions for you.” Ah, Master Obi-Wan, ever the diplomat but the way they phrased it only increased the pit in my stomach. “Masters, may I ask what events have occurred? And how Is my Master involved?” I felt the feeling in my stomach grow as the council shared a look. “Padawan, I’m sorry to inform you but your Master was killed in a possible mutiny and-” I don’t hear the rest of Master Kenobi’s sentence after the first part. I was shocked. Master Krell was dead? He was Killed by a clone? He Couldn’t hurt me anymore? Did he hurt the Clones like he did me? It was a lot. And I couldn’t focus, I could feel myself start to get overwhelmed. I could hear someone calling my name but it felt as though they were in a forcefield. I barely saw someone stand in front of me. I couldn’t process all the information that had just been thrown at me. I could feel My panic spiral until Someone placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Justin, You’re okay. You need to match my breathing.” Master Kenobi told me in a calm voice. It took me a bit but I did manage to calm down. “I take It you didn’t know of your Master’s plan to abuse the clones?” Master Obi-Wan asked me softly and I could Only nod shyly at the question. “Did your master abuse you as well?” Was his follow up. I nodded again as my voice kept failing me. He hovered his hand around my tunic as if asking for permission to remove my tunic. I tensed but I gave him a nod. As Master Kenobi undid my tunic I heard gasps from the rest of the council as they saw the marks, bruises and scars on my torso. I felt ashamed and looked at the floor. I felt the looks bare into me and I felt embarrassed. I wanted to disappear and get away from the pity. I heard Yoda walk closer to me as I heard his walking stick. “Your fault, it was not. Abuse you, your master did. Obi-Wan, take him to the healing halls, you will. Wait for his new master with him, you will.” Yoda said softly but with an authoritative tone. I saw Obi-Wan nod and he warped my tunic around me to cover my abuse.

I layed on the bed in the healing halls as still as I could per the healer’s orders as I described my abuse to Obi-Wan for an official report for the chancellor to read. I was in a private room as all of the patent rooms were. I felt stuipd describing every injury to Obi-Wan. Despite Obi-Wan’s reassurances I felt like I let Krell abuse me. I was describing the burns on my shoulder when the door to my room slid open. “Ah Anakin. I’m glad you came to meet your new padawan.” Obi-Wan said and I could practically hear the knowing smirk in the redhead’s voice. I looked up from my lap to see my new master. I looked up to see Anakin Skywalker. I saw the frustrated look on his face turn into a look of sympathy.

“Hello there young one. It seems you've been through a lot. But, I’ll help you. I promise as your master I’ll protect you.” And I don’t know if it was because he was the hero with no fear or if it was because he was the chosen one, but I believed him and felt safe for the first time in a year. And I missed that feeling. But, I felt the force telling me it would all be okay.  

[sonoftatooine]

Whumpay 2021

DAY 25: AMNESIA

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala.

Warnings:  Brainwashing, implied/referenced torture

Summary: Sequel to Day 19 (Winter Soldier AU). Captured by the Rebellion after his failure to kill the Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Vader, Imperial enforcer and Sith apprentice to Emperor Palpatine, is visited in his cell by Padmé Amidala, the woman claiming to be his wife.

***

“How are you feeling, Anakin?”

Darth Vader did not move from where he lay, staring blankly up at the ceiling above his cot in the high security cell that the Rebels had placed him in after his failure to eliminate the Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, some weeks ago. She asked him that each time she visited—Padmé Amidala, one of the founders of the Rebellion, and the woman who claimed to be his wife. Everyday, she came to see him, though he could never be quite sure of when her visit would be. She was quite late today—the droids that attended him had already given him his evening meal and his nightly dose of Force suppressants, and he had just reached the stage of feeling vaguely woozy from the renewed sensation of being cut off from his power when he heard the hiss of his cell door opening and closing, and the soft voice that had seemed ever so slightly familiar to him even as he heard it for the first time speaking in soothing, gentle tones. Here. The same as ever.

“I didn't think you were coming today” he said in lieu of an answer. His voice was hoarse and cracked from tiredness—a far cry from the intimidating bass that his mask's vocoder afforded him. It had been slashed in two by Kenobi's saber before he had been brought here. Kenobi, whose smug self assurance had turned to abject horror the moment he had seen his face. Kenobi, who had pleaded with him to remember him as he had tried to get his hands round his throat upon waking up in an unfamiliar cell surrounded by enemies—

“I'm sorry,” Amidala said. There was a rustle of fabric as she moved closer, coming to perch beside him on the cot. “There was some urgent business that I had to attend to. But I'm here now.”

Yes, Vader thought. You are. He turned his head to look at her—though she barely came up to his shoulder when they were both standing, lying prone as he was, she seemed to fairly tower over him. His instinct should be to flinch away, he thought, to keep his distance from his jailer, trapped in this cell as he was. But somehow, it wasn't. There was something, something— Besides, he had neither the will nor the energy to lift a finger, let alone anything else.

That was it. Yes, that was it.

“Are you alright?,” Amidala asked with a frown. “You don't look well.”

Alright? If he had been asked that before his capture by the Rebellion, he thought he could have said what that meant. Alright was a day that he hadn't made his master angry, hadn't brought any punishments on himself—no lightning, no choking, no dark cell. But now, here, everything was getting muddled up in his mind. He couldn't think like this, not when he was cut off from the Force and had no way of knowing lie from truth. She was close—so close—and he wished he could sense her intentions as he could with everybody except his m— No, so that he could escape this place and return to Lord Sidious with the leaders of the Rebellion in tow. That was what he wanted. It was.

And if he hadn't tried as hard as he might have done to escape, well, that was just because the Force suppressants were making him feel strange and it was hard to concentrate or— His eyelids drooped, heavy with exhaustion. He couldn't think about this right now.

“Tired” he replied, then froze. He hadn't intended to say that. Don't admit weakness. Sith don't have weakness. But there was something about Amidala that made him want to trust her, and he was far too exhausted and empty to fight against the urge.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” Amidala asked. Her hand twitched oddly at her side, as if she had instinctively started to reach for him and aborted the action before she could. She looked very sad, but she always looked sad.

“I don't sleep well” she admitted. He'd never slept well, for as long as he could remember. Nightmares plagued him—of his master's punishments, of his missions, and other, more elusive things that left him shaking and crying with terror but could never recall beyond vague impressions of deep darkness and red light and a vicious cackling in his ears once he woke. It was the latter that had haunted him last night, chasing him back into wakefulness whenever his eyelids so much as drooped shut. In the end, he had decided to forgo rest entirely, bundling himself up in the warm robe that Amidala had brought him, and waited for morning to come.

“You never did before, either,” Amidala said. “The war...”

She trailed off, suddenly distinctly misty-eyed. The war. He knew that she meant the Clone War. They told him he had fought in it as a General. A Jedi General. Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. He had met the man who had claimed to be his captain, briefly. Rex. And the woman who had supposedly been his padawan—Ahsoka Tano. She had cried when she'd seen him, even as she held him back from attacking her.

“I don't remember the war,” he murmured. He knew, vaguely, that he shouldn't be telling her all of this—if she was lying, revealing anything about his situation was only giving her further fodder for her deception, and that wasn't even taking into considering the general principle of not revealing information that could be used against you to your enemies. But there was something, that strong urge in his mind that he could neither identify nor understand, that was telling him he should be honest with her, should trust her. That it was both good and right to do so. Well, Lord Sidious had always said he was far too trusting, that it would be his downfall if his master were not there to prevent it. “My master told me I fought in it.”

He saw her flinch at the word “master”, biting down so hard on her lip he thought she might make it bleed. She looked as if she were about to cry. Of course, he knew what she thought of his master (she was wrong, naturally; his master had done everything for him, she was wrong, she had to be wrong), what she claimed he had done to him. If she was lying, he thought, she must be an excellent actor.

“Is that...all he told you?” She sounded like she was trying to stay calm, but he could hear the tremor in her voice.

“He didn't tell me much about...before,” Vader replied flatly. He had asked, sometimes, but his master didn't like questions. His hands shook at the memory of purple lightning burning through his veins. “He didn't think it was important.”

He certainly hadn't cared to tell him that he had once been a Jedi Knight. Which he wasn't. He had never been a Jedi. He hadn't. He was getting muddled, confused after weeks on end in this cell with no company but various Rebels regarding him with earnest looks and filling his head with equally earnest words about how he had been used and deceived and that they loved him and wanted nothing more than to help him heal from what the Emperor had done to him— No. No, it wasn't true. He wouldn't believe it. He wouldn't betray his master like that—his master to whom he owed everything. Everything. And yet...

And yet. There was something that didn't sit right in all of this. If he had fought in the Clone War as a powerful Force sensitive, surely he must have been a Jedi? If he had been a Republic soldier at least. All the Darksiders that fought in the war, as far as he was aware, had been Separatists. Surely he couldn't have been a Separatist? They had been evil, spreading chaos and carnage across the Galaxy to the point where his master had been forced to create the Empire to restore order and security when the ineffectual Republic proved less than capable, bogged down by its bureaucracy and over-reliance on the Jedi Order. But if neither were true, then surely he couldn't have fought in the war—not in an official capacity at least. But then, that must mean that, whichever way he looked at him, his master had lied to him and if his master had lied to him once—

No. He wouldn't allow himself to consider it. He wouldn't. His master hadn't lied to him. There was a reasonable explanation. There must be. There must be. Biting back the distressed little noise that was building in his throat, he squeezed his eyes shut, twisting his fingers together beneath the sleeves of his robes. His master hated it when he did that—he'd struck him on several occasions when he failed to suppress the nervous gesture—but Amidala didn't seem to mind it.

“Can I get you anything?,” she asked. “Anything that might help—?”

Vader shook his head.

“I don't need anything.”

“But do you want anything?”

The question had his eyes shooting back open as he turned back to stare at her, incredulous. Want anything? Want anything? He wasn't supposed to want things. He wanted what his master wanted, because he was to serve his master in all things and he owed his master everything—it would be low and ungrateful to want more than he was given—

He wanted...

He wanted...

He looked up at Amidala's beautiful face hovering above him, and he wanted more than anything for what she was saying not to be a lie. That he was her husband, that she loved him, and wanted him to be safe and well and protected from any who would try to hurt him—

No.

“I can't—” he gasped out. He could feel the edges of panic coming upon him, and with great difficulty, he forced himself to breathe slow and deep, counting the seconds as he did when these attacks came upon him. His master didn't like it when he— It was weakness and Sith didn't show weakness— He couldn't— “I...I don't know.”

The admission made him feel small and weak and pathetic, but it didn't seem as frightening with her as it would have done with his master. That, despite the fact that he knew it wasn't the answer she wanted, she wouldn't lash out like Lord Sidious did when he was displeased. All she did was smile at him sadly through a film of tears, giving him a tiny, barely perceptible nod.

“That's alright,” she said. “Would you like me to leave you to rest?”

“I...” Vader swallowed. He was suddenly aware of the fact that, faced with the prospect of her leaving, he really did not want her to go. He shouldn't, of course he shouldn't—his master would be so angry if he knew—but he didn't want— He couldn't ask her to— “Will you...will you stay?”

Amidala's eyes widened at the hesitant question, and for one long moment, he was sure he had made a horrible mistake, but then her face split into the first true smile he had seen upon it. Small though it was, and as hesitant as he felt, it seemed to him to be blinding in its intensity.

“Yes, Ani.” She reached out, slowly, carefully to cradle his flesh hand in both of her own. They were small and strong, the warmth of her touch pleasant against his skin. He did not pull away. “Yes, I'll stay with you. Try and get some sleep. I'll be here with you.”

That night, for the first time he could remember, he slept soundly, still holding onto her hand.

[seventhstar]

@jackdaw-kraai the guides verse premise of "what if vader adopted his own son but didn't actually know that" was so incredible that it inspired me to write my own version of what would happen when vader found out the truth. pretty sure this contradicts what you've already written in some way, so it's like an au of your au, but i hope you enjoy it anyway?

(it's the first thing i've written in ages so forgive any rough bits)

The boy is asleep when Vader returns.

Vader is furious, his temper a writhing, roiling thing that casts the whole hangar into shadow. But though he leaves a trail of ominous frost on the windows of the TIE fighters as he walks by, Luke does not stir. He was asleep when Vader set foot on the Executor, and he remains sleeping as Vader approaches.

He’s fallen asleep on the ground, jacket balled into a makeshift pillow beneath his head. No doubt he’d intended his rest to be brief; Luke has the habit of overestimating his limits. His dreams are peaceful.

Looking at him, Vader cannot hold the rage. The terrible, freezing darkness recedes. All over the ship troopers breathe easier, officers sigh in relief, the shadow of Vader’s hate no longer cast over their minds.

It is very hard to be angry around the boy. Even though he is not a boy, not anymore, even though he is a man whose whole life Vader was deprived of. Even though he is a living reminder of the deception, the perfidy, the stark betrayal of Kenobi and Sidious and who knows else. Even though releasing his emotions into the Force is a skill Vader has long disdained.

An eruption of temper would disturb the boy’s rest. So Vader lets the Force have his anger.

He wonders if Luke knows.

It would make sense of it all, he thinks. It would be easier to accept the boy’s pure uncomplicated love if he knew. If he could call it the misguided desire of an orphan for his father, it would no longer belong to Vader. It would belong to some phantom version of himself, struck down by his own saber long ago. It would be perfectly understandable. It would lose the power to hurt him.

But the Force tells him it is not so, and Vader’s own heart—dark, scarred—tells him that Luke would never have concealed the truth from him. The Children of the Desert know the value of family, lost and found again. It is branded into them by the Masters who separate spouse from spouse, parent from child, sibling from sibling. On Tatooine you remembered the names of all those who were sold away from you. You told their names to your siblings in bondage, in the hopes that if they, too, were sold they would carry the names with them—and maybe, if you were lucky, those who were lost would hear of you, and know that they were remembered.

That they were loved.

He had not understood what his mother meant, when she reached for him with bloody hands, with trembling fingers. Now I am complete. He had not understood where she found the strength to smile.

Now he knows.

The ruin of his body, the wreck of his soul, the carnage of his heart, hey no longer matter.

His son is alive. Now he, too, is complete.

+++

Vader is looming over when him when he wakes up, and Luke’s first thought is that he’s going to get an earful for this—the hangar, Luke’s been told repeatedly, is not a secure location, as opposed to his quarters—and then Vader is going to scoop him up like a recalcitrant child and deposit him in his own bed.

“Sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly. Vader starts to bend down, and Luke waves him off as he gets to his feet. It’s much easier for him to get up than it is for Vader to kneel, even with all the upgrades they’ve done to Vader’s prosthetics. “See, I was thinking about the long-range comm upgrades and—“

“When you smile,” Vader says, “you look like…your mother.”

“My…mother?” Luke swallows. His mother is a mystery, even to him. His aunt and uncle knew nothing of her, save that she was Free. But for Vader to see a resemblance between them, he must have… “Did you know her? How did you—“

“Luke Lars is not your only name.”

“A Child of the Desert can have many names,” Luke replies reflexively. He frowns; Vader of all people must know that. Their common upbringing aside, Vader’s admitted to him that ‘Darth Vader’ isn’t the name he was born with. Does Vader mean that ‘Lars’ isn’t his mother’s name?

“Indeed.”

Luke rubs at his eyes. The whole situation makes him feel off-kilter. He reaches out, mentally, trying to grasp Vader’s emotions.

Vader feels—happy. Wildly, incandescently happy, like a moonlight desert night, the kind that’s perfect for flying, instead of his usual storm cloud. And warm.

“Something’s happened,” Luke says. “Something…good?”

“Yes,” Vader says, quietly. “Something…wonderful.”

+++

In the morning, the news of the Emperor’s tragic death reaches the Executor.

If anyone notices that the press release from the palace is suspiciously light on details, or that Lord Vader appears to have acquired a second lightsaber (dangling from his belt beside his own) or that Luke Lars cannot stop smiling, they keep their thoughts to themselves.

[cimeret]

Some more thoughts on Tales of the Jedi. Only episode 4, because it got long.

The Sith Lord

There was so much going on in this episode that it was almost overwhelming. I feel like it would have been better to split it into two episodes, but then again, all previous Dooku episodes would have benefited from being longer. Also, the timeline keeps confusing me. At first I thought the episode retcons Dooku leaving the Order ten years before TPM and sticks to the Legends continuity where Qui-Gon’s death in TPM is what gives him the final push to leave. Because this episode seems to give the impression that Dooku is still part of the Order. He could just be visiting as an ex-Jedi, of course. We know that after he resigned, the Jedi still spoke highly of him and treated him with respect, even Mace (especially Mace, ironically) and he was allowed to keep his lightsaber and visit the Temple. But here he is still wearing his Jedi robes, as in the previous episodes. If he had already taken up his title as Count of Serenno, wouldn’t he dress differently? Then again, he wore the Serennian cloak/cape before, so maybe I’m thinking way too much about fashion choices again. I’m assuming he left the Order early, because nothing in this episode really contradicts it.

The way humans age in this universe is just as confusing to me. Jocasta looks the same as in AOTC, meanwhile I’d really like to know what kind of vegetables Dooku eats to still look this good at 70.

(Their height difference is adorable!)

I loved that we got another brief encounter between Qui-Gon and Dooku. You can see how proud Dooku is of him and that he cares for him, especially since Dooku normally isn’t the most emotionally expressive person. That he doesn’t know what his former padawan has been up to also hints to that he is only here for a visit (though Qui-Gon doesn’t seem all that surprised to see him at the Temple). Judging by his thoughtful look after Qui-Gon left, he might feel a little concern and guilt toward him because Dooku is obviously aware of the Sith Lord and even conspiring with him. (He may even be toying with the idea of telling/recruiting Qui-Gon, since he is already considering him as an ally.) The brief scene really ties into TPM nicely and foreshadows the conversation between Dooku and Obi-Wan in AOTC, where it’s now becoming easier and easier to imagine that Dooku’s words were at least partially sincere. But damn, there go my wild dreams of Filoni somehow finding some creative, nonsensical way of soft-retconning that line in AOTC about Obi-Wan and Dooku never having met before.

What struck me most about this episode was Yaddle. Going into the show, I didn’t expect her to become one of my favorite characters. She is just so gentle and warm in the Temple scenes, trying to comfort Dooku and asking him if he’s alright. And later, she refuses to give up on him even after she overheard all the terrible things he has done ... she tries to reach out to him with kindness and compassion and it broke my heart because Dooku is so stupid and doesn’t deserve her. Interesting how the dynamic of this confrontation is completely different from how Padmé or Obi-Wan tried to talk some sense into Anakin. And that makes it even more tragic, because Dooku is given a pretty easy way to turn his back on Sidious and the dark side. Yaddle even encourages him that she’s listening to him, that she sees his point about the Council, and she implies that she resigned because she shares some of his views. And the way the episodes set up this whole encounter, with all the wistful and conflicted facial expressions we see from Dooku, and him confronting Sidious about Qui-Gon’s death... I feel like there was a real chance for him to save him(self) here, if only he had been able to face his fear and guilt. Because he’s still at a point where he knows deep down that what he’s doing is not the right way. He is complicit in the deaths of his best friend Sifo-Dyas and his former padawan, and he has not yet fully woven this web of delusion and self-deception that he will later use to justify his actions. There’s some really great ambiguous dialogue in this episode when Dooku tells Yaddle he has no choice (but to let Qui-Gon go) and that he is afraid (that it is too late). I cannot praise Corey Burton and Bryce Dallas Howard enough for their talent to bring these characters to life and convey so much emotion with only a few lines. I love that Yaddle is a compelling character in her own right. You don’t get the feeling that she’s just on screen as a tool to tell Dooku’s story, a feeling I had with Mace in the episode before. I would have liked to see more of her and also her relationship with Dooku when he was still in the Order. (Same still goes for Yoda—what is it with Dooku and little green trolls?)  

And of course, the way this episode was staged was absolutely breathtaking. The Temple and especially the courtyard with the tree looked downright enchanted. The music made it even more eerie. The way light and shadow were used as symbols was perhaps a bit blatant in places, but who cares, I'm here for it! And the fight scene choreography was great as well. I don’t think I’ve ever hated Sidious more. Having him lurking in the background the whole time like a puppeteer in love with his own show was a great touch.

Now for the part I’m less happy with … I don’t really like to complain since we finally got to see Dooku as a somewhat layered character you can actually sympathize with and seeing him care and grieve for Qui-Gon was all I ever needed as a fan. So that emotional, interpersonal part of his arc was done nicely, in my opinion. But at the same time, how Dooku’s ideals and political beliefs play into him leaving the Order and joining the Sith fell a bit under the radar in this episode. He criticizes the Council, but you never really see him interacting with the Council. His conversation with Sidious in this episode remains vague and limited to buzzwords like freedom, order, and peace, but I feel that we were missing too many intermediate steps to explain how Dooku goes from being a Jedi, with questionable methods but ultimately righteous, to becoming a Darksider who wants to destroy the Republic and the Jedi. I have always wondered to what extent he knew about and endorsed Sidious’ plans at various points in his life, and to what extent he was merely an opportunist seeking to advance his own goals. The scene where he confronts Sidious reminds me again how great it could have been if Dooku had a little more agency later in the Clone Wars as well. On the other hand, the tragedy of his character is that he gradually sacrificed everything that defines him to the dark side: all his relationships, his humanity, his ideals, his morals. Maybe they could have shown a little more the intellectual beginnings of the Separatist movement and Dooku’s initial meetings with Palpatine, where Palpatine’s ideas all still seem so harmless and enticing. Dooku’s (initially more academic) fascination with the Dark Side could have been included here as well.

I guess I’m just saying that I enjoyed the Dooku episodes and would like more of them. From what I’ve seen so far, TOTJ has been well received, so perhaps there is hope.