#and the fact that it's so very very Anakin in his teaching method

[takadasaiko]

You lack conviction.

[dberl]

Anakin was a special case, and should have been treated as such by the Order that was attempting to raise him to be a force for good in the universe. I'm not saying that Anakin should have been given special treatment in the vein of "they should let him get away with everything" but let's look at the facts of the matter. He came to them as an older child complete with fears, attachments, and psychological damage from a life lived in slavery. Based on the Jedi's own standards, Anakin should not have been trained, because all of their methods and techniques for training a Jedi were doomed to fail when applied to him, because he is a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. They knew this, and that's why they initially rejected him and only allowed his training in the end because Obi-Wan said it was Qui-Gon's dying wish, and that, fuck it, if they didn't allow it, he was going to do it anyway.

This puts the Jedi as a whole into a pretty unfair position, but, honestly what was the alternative? Let this incredibly powerful child loose into a Galaxy where they know the Sith have returned? Is there a version of reality where he DOESN'T get adopted by Palpatine and raised as a Sith with none of the attachments that allowed some part of him to cling to the light?

So yeah, training Anakin as a Jedi is the right thing to do, but the Jedi dropped the ball on that because instead of recognizing that he was different than the other students and thus had different needs, they chose to treat him like any other Padawan and then shame him when the rough edges of his differences scraped against the smooth operation of the order.

Yes, the Jedi teach you not to form and hold attachments, but Anakin came complete with very strong attachments to his mother and to Padme, and instead of recognizing that and trying to help him deal with those attachments in a healthy way, he was basically just told to ignore them. Most Padawans don't have that problem, but Anakin is not most Padawans and should not have been treated like most Padawans.

Alternatively, (and I know this is no longer cannon) we also know that the Council DID occasionally offer Anakin special treatment... but only once he started to become powerful, and the Council saw a use for that power during the Clone Wars. Anakin achieved Knighthood without having to go through the Jedi Trials like a normal Jedi. The Council just looked at his accomplishments during the war and said "Well, that's all more impressive than anything our standardized testing might have in store. Dude fought Dooku and Ventress already" and knighted him, despite the fact that, by their own admission, he'd never faced a test of the spirit, which ended up being his downfall.

The Jedi were Anakin's teachers. And the thing about being teachers is, students learn many lessons from you, even ones you don't intend to teach. So what kind of lesson do you think Anakin learned when for his entire life the Jedi treated him like a problem, a misfit Jedi they are only begrudgingly allowing to be trained, to have his differences thrown in his face whenever he messes up, to be told over and over again that HE'S the problem, and that if he only got into line and followed the rules like a normal Padawan, everything would be okay and then he starts to mature and get more powerful, and the Jedi NEED that power desperately and all of a sudden allowances are made, and the rules don't apply to him. What lesson does that teach? That rules only apply to the powerless. If you're powerful enough, the rules don't fully apply to you, and you can do what you please. Is it any wonder that he started to crave power, to see the acquisition of power as the best way to solve his problems?

Ultimately, Anakin's decisions are his own, and he's responsible for all of the pain and suffering he caused, but the Jedi did themselves no favors in how they approached his training, which is to say, without regard for him as an individual, and ultimately, with inconsistent and haphazard application of strict adherence to their own code.

I feel like the ‘the Jedi were too strict with Anakin and it was abusive and that’s why he fell!’ is telling of a certain … power fantasy some Star Wars fans have.

Because Anakin didn’t have to be a Jedi. We know he could’ve left the Order, because that’s what Dooku did. The man’s the most skilled fighter pilot of his era, a capable combatant, has experience with diplomacy, has worked as a bodyguard, etc, etc, he would not even remotely struggle to find work, even without taking into account that his wife is a wealthy senator who could easily support him. Hell, while he’d probably have to give up his lightsaber, it’s not like it’d be impossible for him to build another one – it isn’t illegal for a non-Jedi to own a lightsaber, and it’s clearly possible to acquire lightsaber crystals outside of the Order because, again, Dooku has a lightsaber. It’s not even like he’d have to give up his friendship with Obi-Wan – Obi-Wan has friends who aren’t Jedi, he has a whole bunch of them. So does Yoda.

(Hell, it’s not even like non-Jedi aren’t allowed to use the Force. As Palpatine points out in the Revenge of the Sith novelisation, it’s not even technically illegal to be a Sith Lord.)

The only reason Anakin can’t leave the Order is because he doesn’t want to. He wants everything: He wants the power, prestige, excitement, and community the Jedi offer, but he also wants to not have to follow their rules. 

And I think for quite a lot of people that’s a very relatable thing, right? We want to have it all. The fantasy of being a cool Jedi is, for a lot of people, ruined by the addendum that there are things you would have to forego to do that. That’s one reason why the idea of Grey Jedi, which fully is just that ‘you can have your cake and fuck it too’ is so appealing to so many fans.

But that’s not what life is like, in reality or in fiction. And Anakin’s fall brings that crashing in: He tries to have everything, and he ends up with nothing. Less than nothing, because at the end of it, not only does he not have any of the things he wanted in the first place, but he’s also lost his freedom (because let’s make no mistake, as much of a terrible, gleeful executor of cruelty and misery as he is as Vader, he is also Palpatine’s slave) and his body.

It’s easy and in a way quite appealing to shift the blame elsewhere and go “Well, he could’ve had it all, but people more powerful than him stopped him from doing so.”

[uhohhhstinky]

So, what about anakin and obi-wan's hair care routines? Any bar soap happening there?

ok so this sent me on a little trip and i ended up exploring hygiene generally instead of just hair care. i love the very tactile feel of fic where very slightly post-tpm anakin is adjusting to life in the temple and has to reckon with what would register as very mundane differences to other people but feel like massive shifts for him. so that influenced this exploration quite a bit.

especially when it concerns the basics of daily life like hygiene and eating habits. going off of this, i imagine that anakin’s hygiene evolves as he gets used to being a padawan and living at the temple.

so i think he would do things like wash his hair with bar soap at first! he wouldn’t know what to use exactly. i think he also would brush it too much because that’s what he’s used to. this is a good way to explain why tpm anakin’s hair is straight- because his mother brushed his wave/curl pattern flat. nobody told shmi about the curly girl method and also she was a little busy for that. she probably cut his little bowl cut with a literal bowl.

anakin’s a smart kid and figures out pretty naturally over time that when you have more regular access to water and different kinds of hygiene products there’s a variety of approaches to grooming. i like the idea that obiwan teaches him about this in bits and pieces. there’s room for this in scenarios like the bathing fic @predator-padawan wrote and also in letting anakin observe obiwan’s routine and ask his idle little boy questions about it. he would likely be the one to explain to him that you care for different hair textures and skin types in different ways. also this provides so many opportunities for obiwan to be tenderly guiding anakin through these massive life changes in small, concrete ways which has become such a huge part of their early dynamic to me now…..

anyway. once anakin has a sense of his options he settles into a pretty easygoing routine. he doesn’t wash his hair or body every day, and to care for his hair texture better as he gets older, he starts doing no ‘poo (this is part of why he looks a little greasy but i love it and think it’s very cute).

obiwan i imagine is very meticulous about hygiene and has a lot of facts in his head about skin pH and the acid mantle and hair and scalp health that govern most of his hair and skin care choices. being clean and not damaging his hair or skin is the primary focus and looking good is just kind of a secondary effect. he uses unscented and gentle products wherever possible and anything scented would be mild. anakin loves this because it means obiwan always smells like obiwan.

i’m gonna cut this off here so i don’t go forever LOL but also. obiwan is mom coded in that he is applying moisturizer after showers and before bed. and also gently nudging anakin to shower more often as a teen (anakin definitely has an unchecked body odor phase)

[gch1995]

Is it just me or is what obi wan did to anakin on mustafar something what sidious what do, even though sidious is way worse than obi wan (although obi wan has flaws even though he is one of my favorite Star Wars characters) still palpatine loves to torture people especially in the comics instead of going for the quick kill like Vader even if obi wan didn’t mean to purposefully do it he basically tortured anakin letting him burn like that, should’ve just captured/killed anakin

That scene on Mustafar where Obi-Wan uses Padme as bait to try to lure him into a trap to kill without her consent, eggs on Anakin into a fight, even when he tries to say he doesn’t want to fight him before, cuts off Anakin’s limbs, and then leaves him to burn to a crisp, while self-righteously lecturing him about failing, were absolutely exceedingly aggressive, brutal, deceitful, and manipulative methods that are supposed to be more typical of Sith than Jedi.

Obi-Wan’s a very cut-throat ambitious, hypocritical, manipulative, self-serving, and vain bastard. He’s definitely that colleague and toxic friend who would only ever have your back if it wasn’t an inconvenience to them, somehow eased their own guilt and/or made them feel better about themselves, only to immediately turn around and stab you in the back when the boss offered them a promotion to do it, or the cool kids offered them a spot in their clique for it.

“Oh, I loved my master Qui Gonn so much that I’ll try to honor his dying wish by taking on Anakin as a padawan against the Council’s wishes, but I’m also going to spit on that Master’s grave by deliberately disregarding his advice and teachings of being more independent and open-minded as a Jedi by instead being the exceedingly avoidant, close-minded, and ass-kissing Jedi™️ that Yoda and the Council expect me to be instead because Qui Gonn being more curious, independent, and open-minded never got him Yoda’s and the Council’s approval or a seat on the Council as a master. Kissing Yoda’s ass and blindly towing the party line of their cult from here on out, though, will get me Yoda’s and the Council’s approval, and a seat on their Council, even if it means dishonoring my deceased master’s approach to teaching by throwing Anakin, Ahsoka, Padme, and everyone else I care about under the bus every time doing so gives me a chance to earn Yoda’s and the Council’s recognition.”

“Anakin, revenge is not the Jedi way, but it’s perfectly okay for me to egg on enemies and opponents in to duels every time by being exceedingly aggressive and defensive in combat, even if they back off, hesitate, freeze, or surrender first. Revenge is not the Jedi way, but it’s perfectly okay for me to chop off your limbs and leave you to burn alive in agony, while self-righteously lecturing you about failing from ‘the high ground’. “

“Also, after Yoda and I found out about your survival on Mustafar, we spent the next 19 or so years plotting and then attempting to use one of your offspring to kill off the monster of a man we helped influence you to become in the first place because we’re too cowardly to deal with you ourselves.”

You also notice how Obi-Wan and Yoda never once tell Luke to defeat both Darth Vader and the Emperor too? I’m not arguing with the fact that objectively speaking, there were completely valid reasons that many people throughout the galaxy had to hate Darth Vader and want him killed for self-defense or justice at that point in the series.

I say this as an Anakin/Vader stan who also has a lot of sympathy for him, considering the fact that he seems to have CPTSD, a drug addiction to the force, and his entire life was also a never ending hell of abuse, compromised agency, exploitation, and oppression under corrupt authority. I don’t think he’s wholly innocent because he’s committed crimes without the prompting of those corrupt authority figures, too, he still had a conscience, and he did stop trying after going dark. However, those with positions of authority in the Jedi and Republic of his time had already fucked themselves over long before either he or even Palpatine came into the picture, and he definitely wasn’t given a strong opportunity to ever safely and reasonably escape this fate of corruption, considering just how much every authority figure in his life was an abusive, corrupt, hypocritical, manipulative, and oppressive asshole themselves in one way or another, except for his mother, who the Jedi and Republic left in slavery and chaos on Tatooine, only to never let them keep in touch.

Nonetheless, that still doesn’t excuse the fact that Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader murdered millions of people throughout the galaxy in cold blood for a little over two decades, and even before that, he wasn’t an innocent in his adulthood either. I can completely understand why his victims would hate him, and I can completely understand the validity of people thinking that the galaxy would be a safer place without him than with him by the time we got to A New Hope.

Still, there’s also the fact that, Obi-Wan and Yoda don’t seem nearly as concerned about the well-being of the galaxy as they claim to be to Luke in their quest to use him to kill their former student who they deliberately deceive him about. They know that Emperor Palpatine is the creator and heart of the Empire. They know he deceived and manipulated them all for years, particularly Anakin Skywalker. Yet, they aren’t really interested in destroying the Empire in and of itself in their quest for Luke. Obi-Wan and Yoda want to use him to clean up the mess they helped create with his father and ran away from.

If it were really as much as about the well-being of the galaxy as they claimed, then they would instruct for Luke to kill the Emperor too and be doing their best to fight with him by his side if they could. Obi-Wan and Yoda are deceiving and manipulating Luke to kill Vader to try to absolve themselves more than anything, so they were being rather selfish, even if subconsciously.

I’m not saying the entire Order and Republic deserved mass murder or that they’re responsible for all of Anakin’s crimes. However, he was able to feel desperate enough to go dark in the first place, not just because of Palpatine, but also because of Obi-Wan’s, Yoda’s, and the Council’s abusive, exploitative, hypocritical, and oppressive system and their emotional neglect. He had some experience with what it meant to react and be treated like a normal person outside of their cult, and Obi-Wan and the Council couldn’t adjust, so they made him the problem instead. His mother had taught him that abuse, emotional/individual denial, and slavery were wrong, but suddenly he was thrust into these broken systems where those things he got taught were wrong as a young child by his mother were labeled as “kind,” “selfless,” and “for the greater good” by those with positions of authority over him in those screwed up systems, so he regressed to a state of moral confusion and excessive deference/slave mindset in regards to corrupt authority and loved ones emotionally/psychologically in the Jedi Order/Republic and Empire/Sith out of fear of loss and the unknown until he broke as a result.

Just in general, most of the adults in the Jedi and Republic of the prequels are essentially a watered down version of their enemies. They have many of the same traits as their enemies. They’re controlling, and exceedingly hostile and distrustful towards enemies and outsiders. They’re just tamer. At best, they’re indifferent towards their own working class and the people of the outer rims, and at worst they’re enablers and/or perpetrators of “necessary” systematic abuse, crime, and oppression. They’re not above creating and enabling “necessary” collateral damage by deceiving, endangering, and manipulating others for their own “greater good” that’s safer than doing the right thing.

However, the old Jedi and Republic were more stable and better at living in denial of how much they sucked, while the Sith and Empire are just a more aggressive, hostile, obsessive, vengeful, and unfiltered version of what many of them were already proving themselves to be in the prequels, even before Palpatine got involved.

Aside from a few notable exceptions of Jedi who were actually heroic because they were raised to be good people before they got involved with either the Jedi or the Sith, or got out of them before it was too late, such as Luke Skywalker (screw the Disney sequels and BoBF), Ezra Bridger, and some of the force sensitive Rebels, most of the Jedi we meet in the series are and/or grow up to become self-righteous assholes.

Anakin clearly did not only learn from Sidious how to be a manipulative and ruthless bastard with his enemies in combat. Obi-Wan taught him that too.

Even Anakin/Vader showed more mercy for Obi-Wan in their two duels after Mustafar, and he also obsessively sought vengeance against him for roughly two decades. Granted, I do think that, much like with Padme, Luke in the OT movies after finding out he was his son, and even Palpatine, Anakin’s deference, devotion to, and love in regards to people with positions of authority over him, causes he gets pressured to serve, and/or those he considers or once considered family and friends, his simultaneous obsession with getting revenge on Obi-Wan for what he did to him on Mustafar, while also being shockingly hesitant and reluctant to go through with it when he actually faces him off again goes back to all those traits of devotion, deference, and loyalty in regards to people he grows attached to acting as his Achilles Heel at worst and his most redeeming quality at best.

Yeah, he’ll fight them on the dark side, try to convince them to join him on the dark side, recklessly endanger and lash out at them in a blind rage, and he even killed Kenobi via voluntary manslaughter twenty years later when Kenobi invaded the Death Star and faced him off in A New Hope because he did nothing to fight him back and just stood there. However, in regards to the people he cares about or once cared about, I don’t really think revelry for harming them or killing them is really there.

In regards to Obi-Wan, the desire for vengeance is more complex. On the surface, I think he is definitely angry with Obi-Wan for what he did to him on Mustafar and his mistreatment of him in the Jedi Order, but I also don’t think Anakin’s/Vader’s heart is in it nearly as much as he convinces himself it is. There is no revelry in him for killing Obi-Wan in A New Hope, just shock and solemnity, because deep down a part of him never stopped loving his old master. He obsesses over hunting down Obi-Wan to try to gain vengeance for ten years after RotS, but then still can’t bring himself to burn Obi-Wan alive and actually lets him get away.

I think the people who claim it’s like “the Joker’s obsession with Batman” miss the whole point of Anakin Skywalker. Yeah, he’s committed many abominable crimes, his victims had every right to hate him, but he’s not a maniacal psychopath with no traces of genuine humanity in his heart either. He didn’t let Obi-Wan go because he loves the chase like the Joker does in regards to Batman. He let them go and/or takes no joy in harming and/or killing either Obi-Wan or anyone else he connects to because he still holds genuine affection for them, even if he denies it. 

As for Obi-Wan, I do agree that he’s not ill-intended on the whole, nor does he doesn’t commit as many crimes as Anakin/Vader, Sidious, Maul, or the Sith. I also do recognize that his agency is at least partially compromised by being a victim of lifelong indoctrination in Yoda’s cult. However, I don’t think he was ever a particularly good person as an adult either. I think he was a lot more ambitious, hypocritical, manipulative, self-centered, vain, and surprisingly vicious in his desire for vengeance against enemies who personally wronged him than he was convinced. I do think he grew to genuinely care about Qui Gonn, Anakin, Luke, Leia, and Satine, but I also don’t think it was ever enough to outweigh his own desire to fit in and be seen as perfect by Yoda and the Council.

[starsdies]

DUDE!! That tweet you had about anakin composing a song to/inspired by Obi-wan’s name!! 😭😩 stunning idea! 10/10!! I imagine anakin never intended to tell Obi-wan that so does Obi-wan ever find out? When! How! Please add to this idea! I love it so much 😭😭😭 (Also love the idea of anakin being musically gifted since anakin can in canon (sort of) actually sing and Hayden can, in fact, play piano very proficiently!!)

AHH i am so so so glad you asked me about this because i've been going crazy thinking about it. for reference, here's the tweet anon is referring to:

tweet was inspired by this tiktok piano video.

"anakin being musically gifted. it’s like moving meditation. anakin playing piano and composing songs when he needs to submerge into song and force. obi-wan falling asleep to the same composition every night not knowing that anakin composed it to the word “obi-wan” / anakin composing this since he was young, so the first part of the song is simpler and slower. but it grows more complex, quick, layered as he also gets older and gets better (and his feelings for obi-wan also grow)"

so yes, this concept is haunting me. as you said, he can sing well AND hayden plays piano so this is... so perfect i think, especially as anakin is quite the gifted kid. he's a genius that also is able to sing and draw, so he's definitely someone that can use his hands for delicate movements and he is someone capable of understanding music in some capacity. i find myself going back to moving meditations for anakin in different ways: literal meditation with movement, tinkering with droid/ship parts, and now piano. it's an interesting method but it works for him as he constantly needs to touch something and be stimulated. the force guides his fingers, he submerges in the music the same way one might with meditation.

i have this very detailed image of anakin picking it back up, especially, during the clone wars. he plays on a holo-piano but he absolutely favors his physical one on coruscant. i love the idea of anakin being introduced to piano by obi-wan casually (either being taught or just given the instrument), though obi-wan never pressed it (thanks to @zimriya for fueling this particular thought ily) and anakin kind of working on stuff at his leisure. he starts to compose songs in a similar way as the man in the above video, by lettering the notes on a piano, choosing a word, and playing that word on the piano. he does it with many words, but the one that he keeps secret is a song composed of obi-wan's name.

as he's young and learning piano, his composition of the obi-wan piece is simple. light. innocent. but as he grows older and better at piano, as his feelings begin to warp into something else, the composition is layered, it's a mix of yearning, or sorrow and anger and jealousy, regret, pure happiness - and it's a song that obi-wan always heard faintly but never asked about.

i need obi-wan finding anakin playing after an intense failure during battle. i need him to just... hear this emotion and i need anakin eventually telling him that it was always about him. I want anakin teaching obi-wan the simple beginning keys and telling him this part was composed back when he was like... 12 or 13. this is sorta similar to the background of bethoveen's Für Elise piece, or the supposed rumor that he composed a piece for his beloved at her skill level, but when she rejected him the piece's later half was super complex and difficult to play. so yeah - it mirrors that concept except anakin is very deeply, hopelessly in love.

hope this made sense. please feel free to yell at me more about this concept because it's definitely making it's way into a wip of mine!

[deniigi]

Blame @petrichordiam for this.

-------------

Title: centerstage

Summary: An academic goes to a conference and is jazzed to see a jedi speak there. He unknowingly sits next to this jedi’s Support Squad.

The jedi Support Squad is like 85% clones, and 15% Jedi Generals.

No one mentions that the jedi speaking has never done this before and is petrified out of his blessed little mind.

*Anakin is like 19-20ish here.

-------------

Sion Jissard has spent the last ten years of his life in the dredges of archives, digging through documents and testing fibers found between the flimsy, papery pages of old texts—scrounging for clues to recreate the conditions of the great conference halls and small, tucked away offices in which some of the most powerful people in the galaxy once gathered to whisper and shout over the fate of whole planets.

He has a hypothesis that the conditions in those rooms affected the decisions made in them. His hypothesis is strong enough that it has endured several rounds of peer-review and escaped those vulture-like clutches mostly unscathed in published form—both in journal and, his chest swells to recall, in book formats.

His book has sold several hundred copies and been cited in a plethora of upcoming article submissions.

The last eight years of tension in his marriage has eased in light of this. The salary from the professorship obtained in light of the book certainly hasn’t hurt it either.

His two doctorates are set on the wall of his office and when he receives word that a conference on ‘Intergalactic Unionism and Peace Negotiation’ is to be held in two months time, he opens up the speakers list and raises his head to gaze upon those two solid frames.

There will be jedi speakers at the conference. Several, actually. The whole thing is to be held on Coruscant, in the small visitors’ wing of the Jedi temple itself.

Sion Jissard pinches the fabric of his suit and then lightly slaps at his cheek to make sure that he is not dreaming.

He has only recently begun studying the jedi order’s material world and the role that world plays in their intergalactic peace-making practices. Prior to this, he considered the subject too on-the-nose. Jedi studies are rampant. Everyone wants a piece of that pie—the allure of it being that the jedi themselves, scholars in their own rights, refuse to partake in examinations of their culture.

They are notoriously obstinate. Their grandmasters refuse to let outsiders into their archives. Their masters shut down any and all attempts to obtain interviews or transcripts or documents with empty expressions or gentle, pitying smiles. Their knights blink with confusion at personal and personal-adjacent questions, and the little ones, the apprentices, are shielded behind all of these people as though the elbow-padded questioners are threatening their precious little lives.

In short, the jedi are happy to listen but loathe to teach. If you are not one of their soldiers or one of their fellows, they will lie to your face and tell you that it is their religion to do so.

And yet here they are, offering up a scholar’s wetdream and even allowing a handful of their own to present on their areas of expertise.

Sion Jissard will pass up this opportunity only upon pain of death.

He applies for the conference as a participant, not a speaker, and is delighted to receive confirmation of his place within mere minutes.

He puts the date on his calendar and starts looking into transit to Coruscant for the event in two months time.

--

 Sion arrives on Coruscant, at the foot of the Jedi Temple itself, and stares up at it for so long that he begins to feel sick to the gills.

He fumbles for his confirmation at the little table set up in the interior courtyard behind a side-entrance door. He is distracted by the fact that the woman he is standing in front of is a Jedi. She is helped by two small children and holds a baby who is dead-set on unraveling the knots that decorate her thick waist band. Even the baby is dressed in double-collared cream-colored robes.

Sion has so many questions he wants to ask.

The jedi asks him for his name. She has a collection of name badges before her, but none of them are his. He gives his name and the master turns to the little girl sat at her right elbow with a brush in hand and instructs her to write it out.

The jedi child—not an apprentice, her robes are cream still, there are no additional earth-colors layered on top of it—writes Sion’s name in beautiful script on a little card and hands the card to the master, who puts it in a holder with a pin on it and places it into Sion’s hand.

She instructs him to go through the side door and enjoy some refreshments before the event begins. The baby in her lap looks up at her abruptly and bonks his sweet little head against her chin.

Sion forgets himself.

“How old?” he asks automatically, gesturing to the baby.

The master looks down into her lap.

“He is eight months and 75% lung,” she says affectionately.

“Ah. Mine was like that, too,” Sion says. “He grew out of it. He’s only 40% lung now.”

The master smiles.

Sion removes himself from her table before he embarrasses himself further.

--

 There are enough people inside the front room of the jedi’s visitor’s wing to nearly fill it to capacity. The volume, though everyone is whispering, is great enough to be heard from outside the door. The room itself is earth-colored with a high ceiling. Its walls all contain niches with rounded borders. Columns with deep-cut creases in them arch high to the skylights.

It is all beautifully geometric, stoic, and clean. And even though the walls and floor are built from materials of warm tones, the skylights overhead and the surrounding addtion of books and holorecords set into the walls lend it a cooling quality.

What should have been imposing architectural feels more like holy space. The room is one that reverberates with reminders to respect all around you.

Sion’s fingers yearn to document this, but there is a sign right by the room’s entrance that asks politely for no recordings or holographs to be taken.  

“Professor Jissard,” a familiar voice says.

Sion feels his whole body droop. He turns to see Teo Detras stood before him in his obnoxious, roaring red robes.

“I’m pleased that you too were able to secure an invitation, sir,” Teo says as though he has not attempted to place Sion on the metaphysical chopping block for each of his premises since the time they began their academic programs.

Sion opens his mouth to point out that this is also his area of study and that Teo has no monopoly on the field of Jedi architecture when a quiet passes over the room. Sion watches the heads around him lift and searches for the source of the sudden shudder of silence.

He finds it in a tall master with dark skin standing at the very front of the space. The man has tucked his hands neatly into the mouths of his sleeves.

He is Jedi Master and General Mace Windu. Sion has read and reread his essays, not caring so much for what he is talking about but how he is talking about it. His metaphors and examples should have been insight into the common experiences of those living in the Jedi temple.

Sion has found, however, that Jedi Master Mace Windu does not especially care for eloquence or metaphor. He cares only to methodically destroy the argument (if it could be called that) published by a jedi named Qui-Gon Jinn many years ago. Though Master Jinn has not published for several decades now, Master Windu’s writings remain agitated by his interpretations of the jedi’s Spiritual energy, the Force.

Just gazing upon the man now, Sion would not think him capable of agitation.

Master Windu welcomes the academics to the temple and says that he regrets not having more time to speak with each of the attendees as individuals, but there is a war on and his clone troopers require his services. He encourages people to refrain from any recordings of the temple due to its sacred nature, and he asks that attendees be mindful of the jedi Initiates (the white-robed children) who are confused and intrigued by all of the non-jedi people inhabiting their usual playroom.

He cautions everyone that if anyone slips on a toy, he warned them, and the temple is not liable for their medical bills.

This is a joke.

People are unsure of whether or not to laugh. Some laugh awkwardly far too late. Master Windu gives no sign on his face that he appreciates or disapproves of this.

Instead, he steps from his space of honor and leaves in his place a young man with feathery blonde hair and a highly expressive countenance, who drops his armload of documents on the floor obnoxiously and flings himself down to snatch up only the conference program, as if this was the most efficient way of finding it.

People know to laugh this time.

The young man begins announcing panel topics and rooms and give his strong opinions on each of them.

More people laugh. It feels less like a sin.

“And that’s all, my dears and darlings,” the young man says, “Mind your step into the conference rooms, our predecessors derived joy from an unexpected drop.”

--

 Sion has only one panel that he will kill at minimum three bodies to sit in on. It is the one on peace strategy and resource management. He is not here for the peace strategy or the resource management parts of the talk; his burning interest yearns instead in listening to how and if people talk about their space and things. He wants to write down the language they use. He wants to learn about the physicality of peace.

He thinks ‘The Physicality of Peace’ would make a very compelling title for another book.

So he slips through the arched doors of conference room 3 and finds himself in a tiered lecture theatre. There is a small balcony with rows of pew-like benches that hangs over a lower seating area. He takes a seat at the edge of the front pew and sets his datapad on his lap for note-taking. At the front of the room there is a long bench—not a quite table, but definitely a tall bench, and behind it, there is an enormous screen for displaying images and information. Someone has very kindly thought to place a jug of water and some cups at the center of the bench by a microphone.

Sion gets the impression from its awkward, dead-center placement that it is an addition that the jedi themselves usually forego.

He wonders what that means. He only wonders for about 15 seconds before a hand touches his shoulder and he jerks in alarm.

“My apologies, sir. We were just wondering if the space next to you is available?” says the smooth-faced, copper-haired man standing above him.

He is wearing white armor on top of his layered robes. The arms and legs that emerge from his long off-white tunic are dark in color, but his boots are hard and white and come up and over his kneecaps.

Sion is speechless.

This is General and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

General and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi has touched Sion’s shoulder and apologized to him.

He doesn’t have words. He can only make fish-mouthed motions and then point and nod.

General Kenobi accepts this with grace and stands up straight. He waves behind him to call his companions over to join him on the balcony’s edge.

They arrive as a pack.

Instead of coming around and staggering past Sion’s knees at the edge of the bench, General Kenobi climbs over its back and settles in. He then twists back over the row and holds his hands out; a Clone Trooper in full armor hands to him a strange bundle of woolen, brown robe. It produces legs and arms and then bright blue and white lekku once Kenobi has situated it next to him.

“Fooled ‘em,” the little Togruta that emerges from the cloth says brightly.

“Shh,” Kenobi says. “Cody, you next.”

“No, I want Rex to sit with me.”

“Ahsoka, shhh.”

“Rex.”

“Child, this is how people like me get banned from meetings; you’re not even supposed to see—”

“REX.”

“HUSH. Okay, okay. Rex. Pst. Cody, get Rex. Cody, oh for the love of—Wolffe, yes—no. Wolffe, look at me. Get Cody to get Rex.”

Sion cannot believe what he is seeing. General Kenobi appears to be sneaking half of his command into the balcony area. There are more than a few clone troopers there are at least twenty. They are somehow visibly excited despite their matching helmets. The General is able to tell them apart easily. He leans over the back of the bench again and crooks his finger at one of the troopers who leans forward. He tells them to throw something at their commander.

The Clone takes off his glove, stands, and nail a clone standing in the aisle in the head with it. The slap of contact makes this clone cease speaking in serious low tones with a clone decorated with blue edging in front of him. The first clone draws himself up perfectly straight and turns around with a fury that even Sion can feel the heat of.

His armor is painted yellow in places.

He holds the glove in his hand like a threat. The clone who threw it winces and points wordlessly to General Kenobi, then sits down in a hurry. Kenobi smiles wide and white. He has freckles on his face that do not appear on any of the images of him that appear on the news.

He’s also shorter than Sion himself, even sitting.

“Sir,” the white and yellow clone says stiffly.

“Rex,” Kenobi says through that threat of a smile. “Get over here.”

The Togruta child twists around excitedly as the clone in white and blue exits the conversation with the one in white and yellow and surveys the rows of his fellows piled into the space behind the General and the child. He has to squeeze past the line of knees and then climb over the bench to sit down next to the child, who immediately cuddles up to him.

“Hey, that’s my seat,” a new voice whispers.

Sion looks back to see General Quinlan Vos with his arms crossed over his chest, recognizable in any setting. Behind him is General Koon. General Kenobi slaps a hand to his forehead and grumbles, then shoos the blue edged clone and the child a few seats down.

The generals clamber just as awkwardly as the blue clone through the sea of knees of the troopers and then over the back of the bench.

Somehow, Sion has won the jackpot. He is now surrounded by jedi culture, literally.

“All of you, back,” Kenobi snaps down the bench when everyone is just starting to get comfortable. “Cody. Commander, come here.”

The clone trooper with the yellow edging does not want to play this game. He shifts his weight back onto his other heel as Kenobi pats the newly vacated space next to him. General Vos croons in a teasing tone something about Kenobi being especially fond of this clone.

Kenobi lurches out across the empty seat to punch him in the gut and then returns peacefully to patting the space over the sound of Vos’s moaning.

The Clone Commander has no choice. His general is giving him a directive. He gives in to the inevitable and makes his way through the knees and—much more neatly than the others—steps over the back of the bench to its seat and then into sitting. Kenobi beams at him, practically purring.

Sion needs desperately to take notes, but the subjects of said notes are right there and rudeness is intolerable in retaining his vantage point.

He fights the urge to vibrate in space as the lights begin to dim overhead and the panel chairman comes out to introduce the topic and speakers. It is only about a minute or so when a hand lands firmly on Kenobi’s right shoulder—the one by Sion’s arm. Sion jumps, but Kenobi resolutely stares directly down at the speaker.

“Obi-Wan,” Master Mace Windu’s low, low voice says right into the space between Kenobi and Sion’s ears, “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Kenobi begins to melt but catches himself.

“You didn’t for a while,” he said.

“Get her out of here.”

“She has a right to see her Master.”

“What part of these orders are challenging for you?”

Kenobi still does not turn around to see Master Windu, but his eyebrows sink and his brow becomes more pronounced.

“No padawans,” Master Windu says. “Ahsoka. Out.”

The togruta, still bedecked in that heavy cloak, turns to stare owlishly at Master Windu while the person at the front of the room moves on to introducing the next speaker.

“But I’m not a padawan,” the child says. “I’m obnoxious. Master Kenobi said so.”

Kenobi holds his face in a hand.

“You can be both. Come,” Master Windu says, holding out a hand.

“But I’m a cloak,” Ahsoka tries instead.

Kenobi crumples further. Master Windu’s hand finds his shoulder again. Sion can feel its heat.

“If not her, then you,” he says.

“After,” Kenobi says.

“I’ll be waiting, Obi-Wan.”

Master Windu vanishes from behind them. Sion shudders. Kenobi turns to the side and hisses at Ahsoka,

“Now look what you’ve done.”

“You’re my co-conspirator,” Ahsoka hisses back. “My—my—Rex, what’s the word?”

Clone Commander Rex does not want to give her the word. Ahsoka tugs at him.

“Rex,” she insists.

“Enabler,” Commander Rex says with bitter regret coating his words.

Ahsoka beams over the laps of the other Generals at Kenobi. He glares back through a squint. He starts to say something, but General Vos tells him to shut up in a sharp tone.

Sion looks back to the front of the room and finds that a young man with dark hair has come out to the center of the front table-bench to speak.

He is a jedi. His robes, however, are dark in color. Blacks and browns with knee-high boots.

He’s very young. Very, very young.

And nervous.

Very, very nervous.

Even from the balcony seats, Sion can see his hands shaking. He is holding a stack of white paper. It is trembling like a branch on a windy day.

“Go, go, Master, go, go,” chants little Ahsoka.

Sion finds himself abruptly appalled by the realization that the child on center stage is the master of the child a few seats over from him.

General Koon gently shushes Ahsoka. Commander Rex helpfully wraps a gloved hand over the bottom half of her face to keep her distracted.

Sion looks from them to the young man and finds that he’s already knocked over the jug of water on the bench and looks about ready to sob about it. He gathers himself, though, and brings the microphone closer to him.

He is General Anakin Skywalker, Sion now understands. He is the first speaker and he’s never in his life presented a paper at a professional conference before.  

His voice shakes as he reads out the title of the article that he published (and that Sion has read) on battlefield surrender. After the second paragraph, Sion brings a hand to his lip to help him contain the emotions that come with the understanding that this boy is about to read his article, word for word, in front of a room full of academics.

He thinks now that he has been too harsh with his students.

--

 General Skywalker is not a strong public speaker. Clearly, his expertise is in action. He stammers. He loses his place in his reading and accidentally rereads three whole sentences. Only twice does he look up from his paper, and each time it is not at the audience but at Obi-Wan Kenobi, sat next to Sion, serious as a plague.

Kenobi nods sagely.

General Skywalker is General Kenobi’s apprentice. Was General Kenobi’s apprentice. However, it is clear to all who are present today that General Skywalker is still General Kenobi’s apprentice. Desperate, the poor thing is, for Kenobi’s reassurance.

His confidence in reading grows under his former (current?) master’s approving eye until he turns a page and—horror of horrors—drops the stack of paper.

Sion’s whole body tenses in sympathy and second-hand embarrassment. Skywalker flings himself down and messily collects the papers. He hurriedly reorders them, all while stuttering ‘ums’ and ‘uhs.’

Yet, when Sion chances a peek down the line of Generals next to him, he finds that not a single one has winced. No one has laughed. Even the clone troopers all around them are as silent and steady as the night itself.

It seems like they are all listening intently to their young General on center stage. The only giveaway that sympathy is being had by any is the tiny gesture Clone Commander Rex is making with his hand. He is moving it almost imperceptibly in a circle, as if to say ‘come on, come on.’

Sion looks back to young Skywalker and waits patiently as he finds his place and carries on reading again, this time faster. This time he does not look up for his master’s eye.

He wants only for the torture to end.

He gets to the end of his paper without dropping it or repeating himself and is flushed red. He does not ask for questions. He merely says quietly into the microphone, “Thank you.”

The panel chair waits a beat before walking over to Skywalker and asking the crowd for questions on his behalf. Skywalker becomes even more luminous. Sion cannot decide whether asking a question would be more or less stressful for this poor boy.

No one asks a question.

The panel chair then starts to ask for applause for Skywalker, but before he can even finish the sentence the whole balcony breaks into uproar.

General Kenobi hoots and whistles piercingly in Sion’s ear. General Vos claps and shouts what sounds like ‘You FUCKING did it, kid. You FUCKING did it. Hip-hip—”

“HUZZAH,” the Clone Troopers behind General Vos finish for him in perfect unity.

“Hip-hip—”

“HUZZAH.”

More applause and congratulations erupts after this.

General Skywalker slams his paper into his face and bursts into tears at the front of the room.

He bolts for a doorway that Sion hadn’t even noticed was right next to the bench. General Kenobi whacks at his Clone Commander’s shoulder, and Commander Cody wraps hands around his waist and hoists him up so that he’s standing on the guardrail at the edge of the balcony. He leaps from there to the lower level then goes jogging out the same doorway his former apprentice ran through.

After another moment or two, Commander Cody stands up and snaps at the whole collection of troopers in their language. Everyone shuts up and sits back down. Commander Rex gestures for Ahsoka to put up her hood and takes from General Vos a small datapad which he gives to the child—presumably for her to occupy herself with for the next hour and a half of papers. She takes it and immediately becomes absorbed in its lightly-glowing screen.

The balcony is once again on its best behavior.

Sion doesn’t bother with listening to any of the other papers. He feels no shame at all in beginning to furiously take notes on his last twenty-five minutes with the jedi.

--

 Upon leaving the conference room nearly two hours later, he finds himself swept up in the clone troopers’ swift and orderly exit from the space. They line up outside the hall in lines by regiment and they wait for their commanders and generals to arrive before marching back towards the visitors’ wing’s exit.

After two or three minutes, only two lines remain.

Clone Commander Rex and Clone Commander Cody stand perfectly at attention beside their lines of men. Clone Commander Rex has his jedi’s apprentice thrown over his shoulder; he has balanced her on one arm while she sleeps.

It’s very sweet. She obviously trusts the Clone Commander very much.

“Gentlemen.”

The clones snap to even tighter attention as General Mace Windu appears, walking briskly their way.

“You’re dismissed,” he says to them. “Commanders, you will remain. Obi-Wan and Anakin will join us shortly.”

“Sir,” both commanders say simultaneously.

There is a pause, and Sion sees that all of these people are now looking at him.

“Can we help you, sir?” General Windu asks.

Yes. And Sion will pay any amount of money to just know this one thing. This teeny, tiny detail.

“Sir?”

“Is that normal for you?” he blurts out.

The Clone Commanders stare. The general stares. The apprentice coughs lightly in her sleep.

“I regret to say that it is not only normal, but expected of these general and units,” General Windu says. “Please vacate this area.”

Right.

“Thank you,” Sion says.

He stiff-legs it back to the crowd of other academics and hunts down a liquid to soothe his parched throat.

  The new book’s title will not be ‘The Physicality of Peace.’ It will be ‘All is Fair in Love and War: The Jedi Order and Ideologies of Family, Part I.’

 --------------- Yeah, so anyways, Myth and I decided that Anakin is bad at public speaking and nothing anyone says can take this from me now, I’m invincible. (If you want this on Ao3 let me know).

[jasontoddiefor]

Anakin and Obi-Wan switch lightsaber forms, but make it a character study. Written for @isolde-and-monsters

Perseverance

In the aftermath of Naboo, watching his new Padawan sleep while his own braid was wrapped around his hand, Obi-Wan decided he could not endure another loss of this magnitude. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the Sith in front of his eyes, his attacks so much faster than Obi-Wan’s, his strikes more powerful.

Obi-Wan had never wanted power, not in the way he found himself starved for it now. He had butted heads with Qui-Gon often enough, but never when it came to his lightsaber form. For all that Qui-Gon’s teaching methods could be all over the place, in this, they were not. He made Obi-Wan run more drills than any other Padawan and never failed to correct even the slightest mistake. A few of his Master’s friends made jokes about Qui-Gon’s own padawanhood that left him rolling his eyes and pointedly ask Obi-Wan for his opinion on his own education.

Obi-Wan had only ever smiled and asked for another lesson.

His Master had been an excellent fighter, one of the best duelists their Order had and yet, perhaps due to making up for Obi-Wan’s lack of skill, he had lost.

Ataru had felt like a pattern out of tune ever since. Where once it was the winds guiding Obi-Wan to the skies, it now felt like wild currents dragging him down. When Obi-Wan tried to find the right rhythm, he found himself repeating steps that lead nowhere but towards uncertainty, fear, and anger. He needed to try something different, needed to switch, before his doubts threatened to consume him whole.

Anakin mumbled something in his sleep and the blanket slipped from his shoulders. Despite yawning multiple times, he had refused to go to bed, wanting to stay up with Obi-Wan. A smile sneaked itself onto Obi-Wan’s face when he wrapped Anakin in a blanket, only for the boy to snuggle up to him, searching for another source of heat. Anakin was struggling at the Temple, not just because of all the years he’d missed out on, but because of he was fighting against the horrors he had already endured.

It was a Master’s duty to protect their Padawan, carry the weight of the galaxy on their back so that a student could learn to thrive in their own time.

Anakin shouldn’t be forced to helplessly watch Obi-Wan die.

He picked up Djem So the following day when Anakin was in class. He needed a weapon that wasn’t restrained to one area, something that would teach him to stand his ground, defend, and attack at the same time. Nobody commented on the fact that it was particularly well-suited for lightsaber combat.

(They didn’t need to. Obi-Wan knew what he was doing.)

Resilience

Anakin was an angry child. He could feel his rage boiling beneath his skin like a sun, scorching, burning all that it touched when he lost control and lashed out. Even when he didn’t mean to, it just all rose to the surface and Anakin exploded, the weight of the universe behind him, ready to drown out everyone and everything within range.

It exhausted him.

In the aftermath of his tantrums, be they because of selfish and uncaring politicians or because the other Padawans kept pushing him and Anakin thought he couldn’t keep up, it all ended similarly.

Anakin, on his own, choking on tears he didn’t dare cry because he still tasted Tatooine on his tongue and heard his mother’s voice in his ears, reminding him to be careful with his heart. This didn’t feel like keeping his soul safe and his mind moonlit instead of sun-starved.

The Force called him by a name and fate Anakin felt much too small for and he didn’t know how to handle it, how to endure, how to stop breaking.

He curled his left hand to a fist, his nails dug crescent marks into his skin as he waited for Obi-Wan to scold him. His Master was the best the Order had and Anakin wanted to live up to all his expectations, but so very often, he felt as if he were failing him instead.

“I don’t think this is working out,” Obi-Wan commented and turned off his lightsaber, clipping it to his belt again.

Anakin bit his lips, stared at his feet. Obi-Wan was finally allowing Anakin to specialize in a lightsaber form after years of training, and he couldn’t keep up, follow Obi-Wan as naturally as he should. He was good in combat, one of the best in his age group, and yet Anakin struggled when he shouldn’t, too quickly overcome by the need to lash out.

“Anakin, are you sure you want to specialize in Djem So?”

He looked up and instead of seeing Obi-Wan’s disappointment, he found interest instead.

“Yes!” Anakin replied quickly. “Of course! I can do it, I swear, I just need more training.”

“I don’t doubt your capabilities, Anakin. You’d be a formidable fighter. I just wonder whether another form wouldn’t suit you more.”

Confused, Anakin searched for the signs of a joke in Obi-Wan’s expression, but he was dead serious. “Like what?” Anakin asked.

“Soresu,” Obi-Wan answered. “You’re quick, but your speed often leads to you getting overeager. You have a lot of energy and could easily outlast any opponent if you contained yourself a little more and I think it would lift the stress of your shoulders.”

“I’m not stressed,” Anakin protested immediately, pretending he wasn’t lying to himself.

Obi-Wan cracked a slight smile at that and playfully tugged at Anakin’s braid before he could duck away. “I apologize for making such an assumption, Padawan. I know you demand more of yourself than anyone else, but you need not be sword and shield at the same time. Grow for yourself first and the galaxy after.”

Obi-Wan’s words made sense, somehow. Anakin had always thought that Soresu was kind of boring, but maybe he did need just a bit of a break, time to calm down and learn how to breathe again without sand forcing its way down his throat. And if Anakin’s defense got a bit better, he might be able to finally stop all of Obi-Wan’s attacks. He could always switch to another Form later.

“Okay,” he agreed. “What’s the first stance?”

(Anakin never did end up switching his fighting style, relying on the steady beat of drums to keep his head clear and his thoughts structured when the world seemed so keen to break him apart. He did not jump into battle against the traitorous Jedi, the Sith, remaining at his Master’s side.

And when they drop a small spitfire Padawan in front of him in the middle of a war that had already claimed too many lives, he hoped he could teach her this lesson as well.)

[vagrantblvrd]

Obi-Wan raises Luke instead of Owen and Beru, please.

Oooh, nice.

Because I am That Person I want to do the Satine lives AU (I haven’t finished Clone  Wars yet, but one of my friends has Strong Opinions about similar AUs).

Obi-Wan doesn’t leave the Jedi Order to be with her,because Duty, and all that with the war, but perhaps once the war is over he can?

But then Anakin falls to the Dark Side and it’s decided to separate the twins. Leia goes to Bail and Breha, and Obi-Wan is supposed to take Luke to Tatooine to be raised by his aunt and uncle, but.

Obi-Wan’s in his ship leaving Coruscant after losing Anakin the way he did and it isn’t a conscious decision really, that has him putting in the coordinates for Mandlore, doesn’t even register until his droid is like ??? and he sees what he’s done, and has this moment of oh, I didn’t mean to do that, did I?

He means to fix it, input the coordinates for Tatooine, a weavin winding path in case he’s followed, but stops to think about it.

It makes sense to take Luke there, no one would think to look for him, but the thought of leaving Luke, one of the last pieces of Anakin left to him to be raised by people who wouldn’t understand him leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth.

Regret, guilt, for failing Anakin so completely, and it’s like. Anakin has ties to Tatooine that someone smart enough might look into, might find Luke, but Mandalore? That complicated mess is all Obi-Wan’s now.

And it’s selfish, he’s being selfish, not wanting to give Luke up, thinks about the Order and attachments, but look where it got them in the end, you know? (His foundations have been rocked, shattered beneath his feet but if he thinks on it there were cracks, fault-lines long before that.)

So.

He calculates s winding, weaving course to Mandalore and goes to Satine where they raise Luke as their foundling, right?

They keep the whole...Jedi thing on the down-low, because ancient enemies but Obi-Wan and Satine’s inner circle know, because how couldn’t they?

Obi-Wan may go by a different name these days, but it’s close enough to his real name it wouldn’t take much thought to connect the two. Also, his face???

And Luke okay. Obi-Wan teaches him to control his Jedi abilities and such from an early age, but he couches it in games and play and all Mr. Miyagi with his wax on, wax off schtick kid of deal to keep Luke from accidentally giving away the fact he’s strong in the Force and so on.)

Meanwhile there’s an effort to dial back the animosity towards the Jedi, which meets with mixed results, because people. Also, also, over the years Obi-Wan encourages Satine to mend the rift between her followers and those exiled to Concordia.

Also, with mixed results, but with the Empire’s numbers growing it seems like a mistake to allow Mandalore to be divided.

They reach some kind of understanding, not entirely reconciled, but better than things were before.

In another meanwhile, Luke is being raised as a Mandalorian, and like Obi-Wan earns a set of armor.

But then!

The Purge happens, and in the chaos Luke is separated from Obi-Wan and Satine, the other Mandalorians.

He has his armor and a ship and the lightsaber that belonged to his father Obi-Wan shoved into his hands before they were separated.

Has to hide from the Empire because one thing Obi-Wan made sure he knew from a young age is that he couldn’t all ow himself to be captured by them, that they’d be looking for him.

(And on some lonely nights after the Purge when his nightmares seem more real than usual, some part of him wonders if the Purge happened because Mandalore refused to join with the Empire, or if someone found out about him?)

Anyway.

Mandalorians and the reputation for being fierce fighters and skilled bounty hunters and Luke is truly alone for the first time in his life. Little money to his name and his ship can only get so far before it runs out of fuel, and he needs ammunition and food to eat, and it’s just.

He finds work s a bounty hunter, and the first few bounties are part of a learning process. Thank goodness for his armor or he’d have been dead dozen times over the first month.

Still.

He’s been raised as a Mandalorian his whole life, maybe saw himself as an outsider because his Force abilities and the secrets Obi-Wan kept even from him, but he’s been training as a warrior his whole life.

(Pacifists, yes, but the galaxy is a dangerous place and perhaps more so for someone like Luke, so.)

Between the regular weapons and hand-to-hand and whatnot and Obi-Wan’s instruction with his Force abilities and his father’s lightsaber he’s quite the dangerous individual.

He keeps running into this Corellian smuggler and his Wookie co-pilot, and sometimes he turns a blind eye to their antics if he’s tracking someone else. (In return Han’s willing to let information slip to Luke, for the price of a drink or a meal, and of course he’d never say no to an outright gift of credits, so.)

There’s a miscommunication on a job, once. Luke after a bail jumper and this other Mandalorian with a silver helmet who wants the pilot Luke’s bounty hired.

There’s a bit of a fight, nothing serious before it occurs to Luke that the aforementioned pilot looked a little too panicky at the sight of the other Mandalorian to be fully innocent. (Also, it’s Mos Eisley. Innocent people are exceedingly rare here.)

It’s the first time Luke’s worked with another Mandalorian on a bounty, and it’s actually kind of nice. (Although he suspects the other Mandalorian may have ties to The Tribe, but it’s the least of his problems at the moment and the man makes for good company.)

Anyway, anyway, at some point Luke runs into Ahsoka - and he knows her. Obi-Wan and his secrets and she’s safe, she can help him.

At first she’s reluctant, because look what happened to Anakin, what if she’s resposnsible for the same happening to Luke? But he finds a way to convince her - stubborn like Anakin, if not worse - and she takes up his training where Obi-Wan left off.

She’ll lave from time to time because Rebellion shenaigans, and sometimes Luke goes along to help.

And then word through Luke or Ahsoka’s contacts about Leia being taken prisoner and important plans and they’re so far out they might not make it in time.

“I know someone who might help?” Luke offers, because he and Han are hardly friends (they kind of are though), and the Falcon is one of the fastest ships out there even if she doesn’t look like it.

So, side trip to Tatooine and Han is just “Oh, come on, you too? What is with today?” because Greedo and Luke being a bounty hunter and Ahsoka is super unimpressed.

Once Luke explains what he needs, Han is like “NO,” but Luke convinces him and Han reluctantly agrees (but then Jabba and that whole mess and it’s kind of a disaster getting off Tatooine but they make it so everything’s fine.

Before they leave though, there’s this weird hermit they run into and emotional reunions because Obi-Wan and he thought Luke was dead and what has he been doing? Also it’s very nice to see you again, Ahsoka, you look well.

Luke going up to the cockpit to give them privacy for their part of the reunion and sharing information and all that.

And then rescuing Leia and Luke in his beskar getting between Obi-Wan and Vader even though both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are incredibly not happy about that, but some people there were just going to let the sith lord kill them, and Luke is just how about no???

(Satine would never forgive Obi-Wan something like that Luke’s sure, and according to Obi-Wan she’s back on Tatooine still, so.)

Leia gets rescued and the Rebellion’s down a few pilots and oh, hey, Luke’s kind of not bad at that whole deal?

Obi-Wan’s needed as a strategist - and honestly, no one wants him out of sight after the whole thing on the Death Star - and Ahsoka with her Rebellion Thing.

Han comes back to save Luke’s life and Luke destroys the Death Star and happy ending for now?

But Luke knows there’s something about Vader and Luke himself that has Obi-Wan and Ahsoka deeply worried. (When he thinks about it there are a few reasons why that might be, but he does his best not to dwell on it.)

Anyway.

The usual Star Wars shenanigans but with Mandalorian!Luke with his armor and whatnot.

Confrontations between Luke and Vader go a little differently because of Luke’s armor? But the hand thing still happens because parallels or some nonsense, idk.

(Anakin’s not the only one who has to remove their helmet on the second Death Star and so on.)

Leia has mixed feelings about the whole Boba Fett putting Han in carbonite because Luke’s used the same method on some of his bounties in the past. (The violent dangerous ones that posed a risk to him transporting them the guild, though, but it doesn’t matter to Leia at the time.)

After the destruction of the second Death Star there’s talk, idle, unsure about forming a school to teach the next generation of Jedi?

Because Force-sensitive kids and there must be a better way, a balance between the ole Jedi Order and a new one.

Until then, Luke is curious about the whole Jedi thing, goes looking for relics and whatnot. (Maybe does some bounty hunting every so often, because why not.)

Satine wants to go back to Mandalore, help her people if she can and Obi-Wan goes with her because not a lot of reason to stick around Tatooine otherwise.

And then!

This call for help through the Force and Luke following it to an Imperial light cruiser and Din being very, very confused at seeing a Mandalorian with a lightsaber?

Is it like Bo-Katan’s Darksaber? Will one of them have to change? So confused. (Also though, possible concussion from his fight with the Dark Trooper, but yes.)

“Are you a Jedi?” Din asks, feeling that it’s a valid question because Mandalorians and Jedis and ancient enemies????

And yet.

Luke is like, hey, it’s you! Because silver helmet and remember that time we got into a fight on Tatooine? But also, also, hello Aunt Bo-Katan and friends.

Mainly though, Grogu who is kind of losing his tiny little mind because Mandalorian? But also Jedi? But Mandalorian???

And then shenanigans in which Luke is like, huh, about the Darksaber and poor Din who wants nothing to do with it. His adopted mother who wants to help her people but afraid they won’t listen to her after what the Empire’s done them and is like.

Strangely convenient, but he’ll take it.

They stop by the closest New Republic planet or outpost to hand Gideon and whatever other Imperials are still on board over and then head to Mandalore.

Din is still so very confused, but it doesn’t seem like Luke plans to take Grogu away and he’ll take what he can get. (So sure Luke will take Grogu far away at some point, but tries not to think too hard about that.)

And then the whole working at calling Mandalorians home - Din is super unsure about being the new ruler of Mandalore, but once Bo-Katan and Satine have a chat about the fure of their world they’re like, “He’s perfect for the role.”

Just needs a little help, and with them and Obi-Wan and other trusted people to help him, something great could come of it.

Luke stays on Mandalore - his home more than anywhere else in the galaxy - and he and Obi-Wan train Grogu. Ahsoka too, when she visits.

Once Mandalore and its people are more settled there’s talk of joining the New Republic, right?

Leia as the New Republic’s representative, and Obi-Wan one of Din’s advisors, negotiators and it seems as though good things will happen there too.

But!

Also!

Luke who grew up on Mandalore helping introduce Din to it? Teach him about this world he’s never seen, but is important in its own way more than ever now.

And little Grogu and all that.

Keldabe kisses in a courtyard on a night when Luke’s meditating outside, Din restless after tucking Grogu in and happens across Luke.

Understands that Luke doesn’t follow the Creed the way Din does, but he was raised as a Mandalorian and Din’s seen him in his helmet more often than not and anyway.

Luke meditating in the moonlight and while Din was worried he might have interrupted, Luke opens his eyes and smiles, something about it drawing Din closer.

And it’s.

There’s been so much Pining, but this is Luke, and anyway, keldabe kisses, and Luke laughing at Din being so flustered by it, but Luke’s laughter is shaky, breathless and really, the man’s a hypocrite.

Still, the two of them stay like that for a little while longer.

[sirloozelite]

A Review of SWTOR

So, not too long ago, a pair of friends (frenemies more like) of mine were playing SWTOR... and suffice to say they would not shut up about it.  I’d always been aware of the game in the back of my mind, but it had never really appealed to me. MMO’s don’t really, as I would always be worried about random players sticking their nose in whilst I was trying to keep to myself. 

Still, my friends would not shut up about it, and they kept recommending it to me, despite my internal aversion to it.  Now, considering that they had both foolishly taken my advice on games to play in the past, I decided to return the favour and give SWTOR a chance. 

And boy was I glad I did.  Is SWTOR a good game? Yes... and no... and yes. It’s not perfect, it’s got problems, but it’s still a lot of fun, and I’m glad I’ve done at least one playthrough of the game. 

Upon loading up I of course had to choose what storyline I wanted to follow. Since both of my buddies had gone Jedi Knight, (though I’d argue that a certain someone made their Jedi about as deplorable as Anakin) I decided to be the awkward one and went Sith Inquisitor instead, and honestly... I think I chose perfectly!

Oh and... for those interested... here is my Inquisitor:

His name is the Sixteenth Brother! What’s his backstory? Well... that depends on who you ask! Some say he’s the 16th sibling of a Zabrak family... others say he chose the name to hide his true one. Some even say he’s a time traveller from a distant future sent back in time after accidentally finding a Sith relic in his time. Whatever the truth is matters little. All that matters is that he was great fun to play as. 

Oh and for the record, this review is based on a Free To Play experience and completion of the class storyline only. I’ve not touched the expansions yet, but intend to at some point. Any criticisms I have that are solved by subscribing are a moot point. Furthermore, it goes without saying but all of the below is my own opinions of the game. Doesn’t make them right or wrong.

The Good

There are many good things about SWTOR, almost too many to name. That said, there are some things I’d like to highlight.

The Story 

The first and foremost best thing about the game is of course, the story. Being a Bioware written game created at the same time as the Mass Effect trilogy, I expected a good story... and I was not disappointed by the tale of the Sith Inquisitor. It was the standard tale of a protagonist coming from lowly origins, in this case a slave, and advancing up the ladder of society. Nothing too revolutionary, but add in the Sith and the Empire and it was made all the more better. Frequently, poor 16th Bro would get hounded for being an alien, and each and every time he’d beat the odds, and then usually show mercy to those who had insulted him. (I played him mostly light side... though there were a few times I surrendered to the dark and zapped people)

The world building within the story was also top notch. Plenty of detail is hidden away in the codex, much like Mass Effect, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t stuff in the actual gameplay and story as well. I’d never really been a legends fan, and whilst I’m still not, I do see why a lot of people love these sorts of stories. I was invested, and that’s what mattered. 

Outside of the Sith Inquisitor, the very fact that there are seven other unique storylines and classes to play, as well as heavy character customization and role play more than make the game worthy of revisiting. There is a little bit of something for everyone it seems. 

The Characters

Another great strength of Bioware games is usually it’s characters, especially the protagonists companions. I can happily report that, at least for the Sith Inquisitor, the vast majority of the characters in the story were great. 

The three standout characters outside of the Inquisitor to me were Khem Val, Ashara Zavros and Talos Drellik. 

That’s not to say that Andronikos, Xalek, Zash and Thanaton weren’t good characters either, I just didn’t enjoy them as much as Khem, Ashara and Talos. 

Each character felt like they had their own arc. Khem Val growing to accept you as a Master and true successor to Tulak Hord was great, even if he and 16th Bro were constantly disagreeing about 16th’s methods. Despite his dislike of the decisions, I still sided with him when the time came to choose who got to control his body for good. 

Ashara going from “I’m a Jedi and I won’t go against my teachings!” to “Peace is a lie!” was good development as well. I understand that some people don’t like this character much, but she was my go to companion most of the time. She’s not quite a Sith, but not quite a Jedi either, and that made for a perfect companion for the 16th Brother, as he was hardly a model Sith either. 

As for Talos... well... he’s an archaeologist and a historian... and I’ve got a degree in history... so of course I was going to love him! Plus he was eccentric as all hell and added a nice voice of humour to the crew. His personal story about him trying to find his old mentor and carry on his legacy was heartfelt too.

As for everyone else, I was invested in their characters, don’t get me wrong, just not as much as the others. Both Zash and Thanaton were good villains that I took pleasure in ending, and Andronikos and Xalek got their fair amount of use on the field and in the ship. Everyone was friends at the end after all. 

The Voice Acting

The other good point I’d like to highlight is the voice acting, particularly that of the male Sith Inquisitor. I’ve heard people say the female voice is better, but for my experience the male Inquisitor was the perfect match of sass and sarcasm. It made every scene with him in enjoyable to watch. RPG games were a single protagonist can get a bit boring sometimes. Commander Shepard suffers from this in Mass Effect at times. I never got that feeling with the Inquisitor though. He was hilarious from the second he stepped off the shuttle on Korriban and sassed Overseer Harkun (who I totally zapped to death) to the moment he took his seat on the dark council with a surprised Pikachu look on his face. 

So yeah... super credit to Euan Morton for making the Inquisitor the dark master of sass and sarcasm! 

Outside of the Inquisitor, I can say that all the other VA’s did a great job too. I can’t think of any character that had particularly bad voice acting off the top of my head. 

Other Good Stuff

Outside of the three things I mentioned, SWTOR also has plenty of content to offer for everyone. If you want to do main missions, sure! Side quests? Sure! Space combat missions? Yep! Whatever you fancy, it’s there. There is no shortage of content to enjoy for hours on end, even as a Free To Play player like I was. 

The Bad

And now to most likely upset some people... sorry about that, but no game is perfect, and SWTOR has some flaws that could put people off playing it. This stuff is by no means a game breaking deal for me, but it did annoy me and I felt like it needed addressing. 

The Game is Tedious

My biggest complaint is that at times, usually after an hour of playing, the game can become tedious and boring to play! There were times it felt like a chore honestly, and I hate saying that because SWTOR is a good game. 

The main reason for it feeling so tedious though comes down to how you move around the maps. When you can, fast travel is your best friend and can save a lot of time, however, not everywhere has a fast travel point near it. 

This is where speeders come into play. You can buy one for a reasonable amount of credits, and they are faster than walking for sure, but not by much. 

The problem with the speeders is that it is so easy to get shot off of one by one of the random enemies you are trying to drive past (and believe me there are hundreds of them!) that is becomes aggravating to move around the map from objective to objective. Avoiding enemies isn’t hard for sure, but sometimes you have to go right past them, and after hours of fighting enemies it can get a bit tedious being shot off your speeder in one shot just because you didn’t want to waste time fighting an enemy. Once you hit your level cap, fighting random enemies is pointless after all. 

Maybe that’s just me though. I’d personally make the speeders a bit more durable. One tiny shot shouldn’t disable your speeder. Heavy fire... sure!  Doesn’t help that sometimes you can tank a bunch of shots on your speeder and escape without being knocked off, but then on another occasion you’ll be knocked off by a sneeze. 

Either way, movement around the maps can get annoying as all hell, but at least the scenery is pretty. 

The Planets

Now don’t get me wrong, I like all the planets I went to... mostly... and my issue isn’t with the planets in general. 

It’s with how bloody long it takes to complete them all.

The Story Arc quest lines for each planet can take forever sometimes and they end up going on a bit too long if you ask me. Alderaan and Hoth are the two that come to my mind the most. It felt like I spent weeks on those planets driving back and forth between areas to do simple tasks for little reward. Plus the sheer number of side quests didn’t help. I stopped doing everything that wasn’t a story or Arc quest once I hit Hoth!

Don’t get me wrong, I like side quests for sure... I just don’t like them to drag on forever! In a lot of ways, SWTOR reminds me of Mass Effect Andromeda. That game too also had side quests that went on forever. 

My one piece of advice to nay new players for SWTOR would be to ignore the side quests and focus solely on your class story quests and planet Arc quests instead. If you try and do everything, you’ll burn yourself out quickly. Unless you are a completionist of course. In that case go nuts! XD

Other Bad Stuff

Aside from my two big gripes above, which are honestly minor in reality, the only other issues I really have with the game are the boring side objectives in some missions. Nine times out of ten they equate to ‘kill a bunch of dudes’. They are easy enough to complete, as you’ll be killing things anyways, so you don’t really need to put any real thought into completing most of them. They just feel tacked on and rather pointless honestly. 

The Ugly

And now the ugly stuff. This is stuff that is between good and bad. Bad as in they annoyed me, but good as in I understand why others like them or they improved over time. 

The User Interface

Oh god the UI! When I first started the game it was so overwhelming! Pop-ups everywhere! Hundreds of tabs and side bars and tutorial boxes being spammed my way. It was not friendly to a new player who had literally just jumped in. If I hadn’t played games like Civ or XCOM in the past I might not have been able to cope with how much stuff was going on at once. 

Luckily, after a few hours of play, I began to understand the UI a bit more and became comfortable with it. I knew what was where and what did what, as well as what I didn’t need. (any PvP stuff for example) Plus the ability to edit the interface to your own liking helped a lot as well, so it wasn’t a complete lost cause, just overwhelming at first. 

Flashpoints and Heroic Missions

So, these missions are designed to be played with other players online, clearly. They can be done solo, but they take forever to do so. Endless hordes of high HP enemies, including even higher HP boss fights is not that entertaining to me, and thus very quickly became boring to me. Artificial difficulty in a way. Plus if you do die, it ain’t half a pain in the ass to get back to where you were, only to find that boss that had 5% health left when it killed you is now back to 100%. 

I gave up doing these sorts of missions and have no intention of returning to them unfortunately, which is a shame as some of the flashpoints have actual important story content in them. 

Still, if unlike me you actually have friends to help you with these, then I get why you like them, and more power to you. I just don’t enjoy them much. 

The Soundtrack

And now to really upset some people. Look... I like John Williams music scores as much as the rest of the fandom does. That said, there were places in SWTOR where it showed up and really really did not work! It almost felt like the game was just spamming random iconic tracks that sort of fit the scene, but really didn’t. 

The biggest one for me that didn’t work was the final duel against Darth Thanaton in the Dark Council Chambers. During the cutscene between the two fighting, the music started on ‘The Final Duel’ from ROTJ when they were fighting, and they suddenly it shifted to the theme from Padmés funeral when Thanaton was overpowered! I mean, I get what they were going for with the music, but the sudden shift between tracks was unceremonious and didn’t work. If they were going to use licensed movie music then they should have just chosen one track and stuck with it rather than jumping between two!

Furthermore, to me those themes were written for specific scenes in their respective movies, and thus were created to fit those scenes, not random SWTOR scenes. If anything, the entire scene should have had it’s own score written for it rather than just reuse movie tracks instead!

That said, whenever the game does use original music that isn’t from the movies, it’s fine! The ambient background for the planets is great, Alderaan’s especially, and I hated that planet! They clearly had the talent of music directors to write Star Wars sounding music, so I don’t fully get why they didn’t just go with original music all the way rather than just reuse John Williams music instead. I don’t know if they didn’t have enough money or something. If that was the case then I’d understand. 

So yeah, the music is a 50/50 for me. The original music is great. The movie music is still great, it’s just not used right. 

Other Ugly Stuff

WASD controls. They aren’t game breaking, but I’m not a great fan of them. They make my wrist hurt. I adapted, like I did with the UI, so it’s not really a big issue, but I know it could put one or two people off playing it. 

Another minor gripe is a consequence of the game being an RPG within an MMO. Other players are running around, often doing the same objectives as you. They can steal your objectives before you, forcing you to wait around for them to respawn so you can do them yourselves. Luckily there is usually other stuff to do in the meantime, and the re-spawn timer is smallish, so it’s not a huge problem. Just an unfortunate consequence. 

Conclusion

So... would I recommend playing SWTOR to people? Yes! I would. It’s a good game, even with it’s flaws. I had a lot of fun running through the Sith Inquisitor’s storyline, and I learnt a lot about the game for any future playthroughs I do. I know what to expect now and what to stay away from, so hopefully whatever class I choose to do next will be full of less annoying little things. 

That said, considering how long it took me to do the Inquisitor’s story, I feel like I’m gonna need a serious break before I can play another class. I was almost burnt out when I finished the Inquisitor, and I’ve still got the two free expansions to go!

So yeah... all in all, SWTOR is a good game,. I’d recommend it, and I’m glad I gave it a fair chance. It’s not in my top 10, but it’s one to return to. :)

So, if you’ve ever thought about trying out SWTOR before but were apprehensive about it, then I’d encourage you to give it a shot. It is free after all! Unless you subscribe. But you can at least try it for free! Bonus I say! XD

[val-aquenta]

And hey! Bet you didn’t expect a double update, but hey I got inspired. Here for the prompt of non-attachment for Jedi June.

here on ao3

Aayla Secura:

Aayla sat on the spire, exposed to the winds high up here. The ribbons and thread tied to the barrier in front of her almost reached her face where she sat. She thought that, if she tried hard enough, she might be able to pick out her Master's ribbon, a bright yellow embroidered with green. The end, like all other beads, would hold one bead from their braids. Quinlan had said he’d chosen his piloting bead to be left up here, tinkling with the rest, considering all the help that Tholme had done to get him through piloting. Another one she thought she might recognise was a dark purple ribbon with gold beads and a large green one, carved with the symbol for lightsaber studies, likely Master Windu’s ribbon. 

Aayla's ribbon sat in her hand, a bright blue with a few dark brown beads and one rather large grey one dedicated to her general education. She thumbed the bead thoughtfully, rubbing a finger across the smaller brown beads. On the eve of knighthood, they were meant to come here, meditate, tie their ribbon and leave it behind. Part of their life was ending and they couldn’t bring it with them always. Quinlan had done so, meditating for two hours before wandering back down, still as carefree and Quinlan as before. 

Aayla wasn’t so sure she could do the same. So much of her life had been defined by Quinlan. He’d rescued her with Master Tholme, and when Quinlan had felt experienced and ready to teach, he’d taken her on as a Padawan. He’d helped her work through her feelings surrounding twi’lek and their culture. The man had helped her through every obstacle, and she no longer knew if she could leave him behind. Aayla was frightened that if she let him go here, she would be unable to care like she used to before. She looked at her blue string, sparsely tied with brown beads.

Aayla supposed, however, that it was something she had to do. Her past was defined by Quinlan, that was a fact. Her future did not have to be, but it certainly could be if she desired. It was a risk that she had to take. Her Master wouldn’t be hers anymore, but they could still be in each other's life nonetheless. 

“I can let you go.” She mumbled under her breath, tracing the edges of brown beads. “I will let you go.” She continued mumbling, closing her eyes and her hands moving almost of their own accord. “I am letting you go.” Her hands tied a knot, familiar and common throughout the universe. “I have let you go.” She blinked, her hands back on her lap and her string fluttering in the breeze. The light caught another Jedi’s translucent beads, reflecting it in all hues across the spire and Aayla smiled. She was to be a Knight soon, a Jedi apt for solo missions. Her future awaited. She took a moment to bask in the sun, breathing in the peace up here, far away from most people before she stood and began her walk down the spire. 

Mace Windu:

Mace Windu had climbed the spire an hour ago. It was so quiet and he was alone up here. In his pocket, the ribbon weighed heavier than it should. It was purple and gold, what Cyslin said were his colours. He’d honoured his Master with the green mastery bead and, when he’d shown his ribbon to her, Cyslin had gotten slightly teary-eyed, tracing the gold beads with her finger. “It’s wonderful, my Padawan.” She had looked up from the ribbon, purple eyes focusing on him. “I’m proud of you.” Her praise was offered with a smile and Mace had ducked his head, slightly embarrassed before looking at her with gratefulness. She’d affectionately brushed his braid before pushing him out the door and up the tower. 

Now he sat, staring at his hands. He had never really thought about Cyslin and his relationship in connection with how it would continue in the future and, truth be told, he was rather frightened. They were friends, almost equals, so he knew that it was likely that they would remain in contact at the very least, but he knew that some of the closeness would be gone. 

Cyslin’s ribbon had not been described to him, and he could not pick it out from the bunch, but the entire picture of it was rather beautiful. Different colours and different additions. There was beading, embroidery, little bells that tinkled in the breeze, or even lace. Mace brushed his hand through the bunch, feeling the little beads and bells brush against his fingers. There were stories, he was sure, related to every scrap of fabric or thread. That distressed green fabric with embroidered flowers, that braided yarn with an odd combination of silver, brown, red, and pink, even the strange stiff twisted material that twirled and twirled in the wind. Perhaps, he thought, he might draw this. Mace took what he would term a mental screenshot of the image, willing himself to remember. 

Stiff fingers went to his ribbon and pulled it out, admiring the colours once more. It felt too heavy for such a small thing. Mace turned it over and over idly as he thought it over. He was certain that both he and Cyslin would remain friends at the very least. Cyslin was close with her former Padawan Ileria, so there was no reason for him to think that he would not be welcome either. His hands stopped turning over the ribbon and leaned forwards, tying the ribbon in the middle of a bunch where there was an empty place, likely where an old ribbon had frayed and flown away. 

It felt almost too easy, and Mace was worried he was half-assing it. He watched the ribbon fluttering in the breeze, dancing this way and that way before he turned his eyes over the Coruscant horizon. He wouldn’t say that Coruscant’s horizon was the prettiest, not by far as Lathle and its moons existed after all, but Mace would venture and say that most Jedi found it comforting for its sense of home. The hum of speeders was… audible but hardly so. Most of all, the wind was what he heard. 

Mace took a moment to breathe in the air, polluted by the Coruscanti population, before he stood up. He brushed some of his hair, looking at his braid for a moment. Mace looked at the length, noting how it was somewhat shorter than most, but filled with threads and braids. It would be gone soon. He stretched his back and took one last look over the horizon, before turning and walking down the stairs once more. 

Luminara Unduli:

Many mirialans had similar knighthood ribbons. They usually had a base that was the colour of their skin or their lightsaber colour, with black beads and a personal touch. Luminara hadn’t done that. She was known by most of the temple as a more traditional mirialan, wearing the traditional garb, headdress, and jewellery. It did not make her a ‘better’ mirialan, Luminara thought, simply another one. Because of that, her ribbon had been inspired by the jewellery. Gold, black and red with hints of green. It had been somewhat expensive and she knew there would be some Jedi who would disapprove, but she did not care. They followed their Jedi path their way, and she followed hers.

The ribbon had been switched for black fabric, similar to the heavy garments she would often wear. Clipped on were some mirialan badges of gold and black design, the ends had been embroidered with mirialan runes of acceptance in both red and green, and finally her mastery bead of a deep red as a finishing touch. It wasn’t over the top, not for her, but someone would have something to say about it. In Luminara’s opinion, her culture was an important aspect of her apprenticeship and not including it would be extremely strange considering how much it influenced her life in general and her life as Jedi. 

However, with the apprenticeship ending soon, Luminara wondered whether that would change. Having a mirialan Master meant that they understood the importance of their own culture, and she wondered if she might have difficulty connecting to her culture when her Master wasn’t there to help. They had been vital in establishing the interest in her culture and she worried that once her apprenticeship ended part of her would be unable to connect as she had before. 

Regardless, Luminara knew she was to be a Knight and it would come with some risks she had to be brave enough to take. Master Laetur had often said she lacked determination and that she could lose hope and be disillusioned too quickly, but Luminara knew she had to do this. Her fabric was tied onto the rail next to another mirialan’s ribbon carefully. The badges meant it did not flutter in the breeze as most did but that did not matter. She let her fingers linger over the heavy material for just a moment before she was turning and heading down the spire.

Anakin Skywalker:

Anakin’s meditation was… not exactly there. It wasn’t grand, and there wasn’t much of it. He knew what was expected. To spend at the very least an hour, more likely two, contemplating his relationship with his Master, and then letting it go. Acknowledging that it was ending and it would not be the same. Anakin had tied his orange thread, Naboo pendants and one mastery bead on it, off first thing, figuring that he could always meditate deeper on it later. His knighthood was important and he had to reach it quickly. With the war going on, he was… well anxious to end it. For his wife and for the Republic.

He knew this whole thing was meant to symbolise letting go of the past in general, as well as being focused on the apprenticeship of the individual, but Anakin thought it was somewhat strange. Part of life was keeping what you had safe. Force knows he would do anything he could to keep Padmè safe, to keep their love alive. Padmè, Obi-Wan, and the Jedi were important to him, so it followed that he would try and keep them safe. 

Anakin clenched and unclenched his hand methodically on his lap. He was still getting used to the mech hand and, with both Padmè and Obi-Wan’s help, the process was getting easier. He knew that when he was Knight, and when he even became a Master, Obi-Wan would be there. The ginger man was a stable rock who would always be there for him. Anakin would always be there for Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan would do the same. It was basic knowledge. Their apprenticeship might be almost over, but that did not mean they were going to be separated. 

Anakin took a gaze at his thread once more, where it sat, tied to a section of railing with few neighbours. He’d done what was expected of him on his path to knighthood, and now nothing was holding him off from becoming a Knight and soon a Master. He took a breath of the air, not fresh like it was on Naboo, before he stood up, stretching his back and walking back down. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi:

Obi-Wan did not get to wander up the spire prior to his knighthood as he dreamt of doing for so much of his life. Instead, Qui-Gon had been cut away from his life and become one with the Force in the space of one breath to the next. He traced Qui-Gon’s still hand, flinching at the cold that had replaced the warmth of life. He felt wrung out, tired from crying and feeling so much. “I wish you were here.” He whispered to the dark. “You would know what to do.” Qui-Gon did not respond, he never would. Not again.

Obi-Wan’s hand brushed away hairs from his face, looking at the still face, serene in death. He almost looked like he was sleeping. With the dark, the only light coming from the stars and moon out, he might as well have been. “I don’t know what to do,” Obi-Wan admitted, wondering if perhaps his heart still had to catch up with the knowledge that Qui-Gon was dead. Perhaps that was why he kept talking to the shell. It was that or the fact that he could not stand the quiet otherwise. 

Qui-Gon had once described the spire. Reminiscing on the threads that flew in the wind, some frayed and no longer recognisable, some new and so colourful. Beads that clacked against each other every time the wind blew. ‘It is… free up there. You could scream and no one would know.’ Qui-Gon had said. Obi-Wan had always wanted to go there, but he supposed he never would. He would be knighted on Naboo for killing the Sith, and then he would have a Padawan of his own. That was the plan. ‘Train the boy.’ Qui-Gon had also said, and Obi-Wan was loyal. Even though part of him was happy to train Anakin, the young child was quite adorable and had already made quite the impression, another part wanted to remain a Padawan and be able to climb the spire. He supposed, in its own twisted way, Qui-Gon’s death and his subsequent grief could be its own trip up the spire. A cruel lesson, but a lesson nonetheless. 

Obi-Wan bent his head until he could press a soft kiss against Qui-Gon’s forehead. “I miss you.” He rested his forehead against Qui-Gon’s. “Goodbye master.”

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 6

Prompt: Insomnia

Summary: The Disaster Lineage™ has a long history of being horrible at getting the sleep they need.

Read on AO3

Good Sleep is Hard to Find

"It's called insomnia, Obi-Wan," the Twilek healer looks unamused as she sits across from him. "And no, it's not normal."

Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn't particularly like going to the healers. In fact, he avoids them as much as he can. Unfortunately, in this case, Master Che cornered him as he left the training sala and practically dragged him by the ear to her office.

"It really is not too bad. I've grown accustomed to-"

"To what? Four hours of sleep? On a good night?" Master Che rolls her eyes. "You Jedi Knights are going to give me an aneurysm one day."

"I do hope not, Master. Then all of us would be walking around with untreated concussions and scantily wrapped blaster wounds."

She leans back in her chair, her bright blue eyes softening. "Yes, likely. Listen, I brought you here because your little late-night training sessions have found their way down the rumor mill. People are concerned for you."

Obi-Wan glances out the window at the darkened megapolis. He didn't think anyone knew he would go to the training rooms when he couldn't sleep. Though, nothing can really happen in this temple without every other knight and padawan hearing about it.

"I figured it was a good way to tire myself out."

"Well lucky for you, you won't have to do katas at three in the morning anymore," she reaches into her desk and slides two pill bottles across the table. Obi-Wan gingerly picks them up, looking up at her inquisitively. "One is a natural supplement. Think of it as your first line of defense. If you're not feeling tired at bedtime, take this first. It's the natural hormone your body produces to make you fall asleep. Very safe."

"Right. And this one?" he shakes the other. A flicker of a smirk appears on her lips.

"That's the good stuff. It should knock you right out, but only take one pill a night, max."

Seems easy enough. Obi-Wan looks between the two bottles, internally a little glad Master Che corralled him into here. He is not keen on drugs usually, but his current situation has become quite distressing... Maybe he'll finally get a decent sleep.

"And if neither work?" he asks, a little fearful of her answer.

"I'll be impressed if the second doesn't work, but I suppose I can teach your padawan how to do a proper sleep suggestion."

He points an accusatory finger at her. "You wouldn't dare!" The healer smiles fully now, shaking her head. As she looks at him longer, her smile fades again into sympathy.

"Obi-Wan, I do hope you plan on using these medicines. Insomnia is very common, and you are certainly not the only Jedi Knight on this regimen."

He sighs, clutching the bottles in his fist. "I just don't understand why I can't sleep, I suppose. Anakin tires me out his fair share, and I feel exhausted, I just can't seem to actually sleep."

"Well," she shifts in her seat. "It tends to get worse in times of stress-- like having a teenage padawan... or when processing trauma."

Red. So much red, and the sight of a lightsaber through Qui-Gon's abdomen flashes through his mind. He blinks away the image, though he knows it will be there in his dreams anyway. It always is. But he isn't here to discuss that, even if Master Che seems insistent on doing a full exam on him while she has him trapped in the halls.

"Right, well," he stands. "I should let you get your own sleep and try to get some of my own."

She looks a little disappointed as he pines for the door but she stands and they bow goodbye. "I don't want to hear about any more nighttime training sessions, Knight Kenobi. I have eyes and ears everywhere, you know."

He smiles. "Yes, Master Che, I understand."

Yet somewhere between the Halls of Healing and Obi-Wan's apartment, he seems to forget their understanding. He sits on his bed, staring at the bottles in either hand. The morning will be upon Coruscant in a short few hours, and he can't risk being knocked out and missing morning meditation and training with Anakin. He sets the bottle of sleeping pills on his side table and looks at the supplements. She claimed these were natural, only a mild aid... perhaps he can at least try these for his few hours of sleep.

They go down easy with water, and he lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His muscles are still buzzing from hours of repeating kata after kata, honing his acrobatics, and dueling with the training droids. It baffles him how his body can feel so exhausted but he doesn't find a wink of sleep. The reality of his sleeplessness is a number barely present in the back of his mind. He tries not to think about it as the hours tick up. Twenty-four hours. Thirty-six hours. Forty. Fifty. Sixty.

The worst part is he is trying to sleep. Truly. He wants nothing more than for his head to hit the pillow and to blink out of consciousness for a good six hours or so. But to no avail. He envies the other knights who have taught themselves to sleep whenever they can, wherever they can. In the deep wells of the Temple windows, pilot chairs of ships, standing up in some cases. Sometimes he is tempted to ask them their secret, but he suspects that just like he is wired to be awake forevermore, they are made to find their rest.

Everything is the will of the Force, isn't it? Qui-Gon always told him there was a reason for everything. A plan that he may not be able to see now, but later he will. His greatest comfort has always been that there will one day be a purpose for the agony he goes through. One day it will all make sense.

He closes his eyes. Maybe that will help. He doesn't feel drowsy but he isn't sure if he is supposed to with this supplement.

Obi-Wan can feel the edges of sleep nearby. He tries to grab them, hang onto the feeling of spiraling into blissful unconsciousness, but it's like a switch he can't reach. He rolls to his side, squeezing his eyes shut again. Tries to push out every thought from his mind, but somehow thinking about how he needs to think about nothing is more occupying to his mind than actually thinking about anything else.

So he lies there. Switches to his other side. Back to his back. Experiments with lying on his stomach, and decides it cranes his neck too much. And when he finds himself on his back for the third time he realizes the light has slowly crept into his room and Anakin's alarm is blaring on the other side of their apartment.

He sighs. Sits up and rubs his eyes. Fifty-five hours.

Obi-Wan struggles his way through their meditation. His heavy intake of caff made him jittery and his lack of sleep made getting a good grasp on the Force difficult. Even Anakin seemed to notice his lack of propriety, which only made Obi-Wan feel worse. After lunchtime, Obi-Wan goes to one of his knight elective courses. It's saber training concentrating on Form III, which he usually enjoys, but today he lingers near the back of the group. His vision is starting to get hazy, and things look as though they are moving when he knows they aren't. After getting hit by three training bolts that he should have been able to deflect, he decides to bench himself for the remainder of the class.

He has a feeling this will get back to Master Che, but he doesn't care anymore.

Anakin is back from his own classes when he gets back to his apartment. The padawan is lounging on the couch with a datapad balanced on his knees. When he sees Obi-Wan come through the door, he jumps up.

"Master you're back!" he says with more enthusiasm than Obi-Wan is used to from his teenage apprentice.

"Anakin, hello," he says, raising an eyebrow and glancing around the apartment. "What did you break?"

Anakin crosses his arms. "Why do you think I broke something?"

Obi-Wan sets down his training bag by the door. "Just a feeling, I suppose."

"Well a wrong feeling, Master," he says, walking with long strides into the kitchen. Yes, he is definitely up to something.

Anakin pulls out two plates, each with sandwiches stacked tall with meat. Obi-Wan also suddenly realizes the kettle is on the stove and two mugs are sitting out, prepped with tea bags.

"I asked one of the Masters what kinds of food help people go to sleep. They said turkey and chamomile tea are good," Anakin looks up at him hesitantly. "I thought maybe some turkey sandwiches and tea for dinner may help you... you know. Sleep better."

Obi-Wan feels like he might cry. He blames it on the sleep deprivation but seeing the effort Anakin put into a problem he had no idea his padawan even picked up on touches him. The boy can be a terror sometimes, but Qui-Gon was right about his kindness. Obi-Wan smiles, walking up to the fourteen-year-old and squeezing his shoulder.

"This looks wonderful, Anakin. I have been having some sleep troubles, and I'm sorry if I worried you."

"When I can't sleep I like to try to tire myself out. Have you tried that, Master?"

He smiles softly. More than you know, young one. "Unfortunately, Master Che was not too happy with that method. She gave me some medication to help, instead."

Anakin takes a big bite of his sandwich, making a face. "That's not as fun."

Obi-Wan takes his own bite of the sandwich that is quite literally stacked with turkey. It might be half a bird here alone. "That's what I told her, too."

Anakin laughs, jumping up to grab the screeching kettle and finish preparing the tea. Sixty-four hours now, but this time he has a good feeling about resetting the clock for tomorrow. The master and apprentice enjoy the rest of their meal, and then Obi-Wan retires to his room. With his belly full of comfort food and tea, he actually feels the long-lost tug of drowsiness enticing him to bed. Even with such a feeling, he picks up the medication that Master Che prescribed him.

Without adequate sleep, he can't be the Master Anakin needs him to be. The boy deserves all that and more. Obi-Wan swallows the sleeping pill without another thought and lies back in bed. It takes only a few minutes for him to drift into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

__________

A scream is caught in his throat as Anakin is forcibly thrown out of his nightmare. He chokes on it, coughing a few times to clear his throat and then wiping the cold sweat off his brow and upper lip. It's pitch black in the room, but he waits a moment to turn on the light. Sometimes, when he just lets his eyes adjust naturally he can pretend for a few moments that he's anywhere other than the cold quarters of a star destroyer. He can be back on Coruscant, in Padmé's comfortable bed with the weight of her comforters pressing him into the mattress. Or in their lake country villa on Naboo, her body wrapped around him with the sound of running water nearby. Sometimes he is back with his mother, her fingers rifling through his hair soothingly as she lulls him back to sleep.

Anywhere where he isn't alone on a bunk harder than durasteel. Sometimes he thinks he'd rather sleep on the dunes of Tatooine than his bunk. (Obi-Wan usually tells him to stop being dramatic when he goes that far.)

But these little divergences are enough to lull him out of the panic of his dreams and into a better state of mind. By the time his eyes do adjust to the blank walls and regulation furniture he can decide whether or not he will be returning to sleep for the night.

They've been getting worse lately. The dreams. They happen nearly every night now. Not always the same thing, like before his mother's death, but always intense and horrific. Always making him wake up close to tears or worry that he's been screaming and Ahsoka or Obi-Wan will come bursting in at any moment. Sometimes he is calm enough to put going back to sleep to chance. Other times he prefers to just accept a day without sleep.

Obi-Wan would kill him if he knew. Ahsoka gives him enough trouble when he yawns his way through briefing meetings, so he's surprised she hasn't tattled on him yet. Or maybe she has, and the old man has decided it would be hypocritical to nag him about it. Obi-Wan isn't exactly known for his healthy sleep schedules either.

He doesn't have good feelings about sleep tonight. His heart is still racing and he can still see a horrific scene of Ahsoka sobbing with a lifeless Obi-Wan in her arms, blood is trickling out of his nose and ears, and eyes glossy and set. It's a moment he's seen a few times. Sometimes Obi-Wan is already dead and other times he's falling and Anakin is running frantically to save him.

He never makes it.

Tonight was no different.

Anakin turns on the light and slips on a pair of trousers. His hair is a mess, per usual, but running his fingers through it a few times seems to do the trick. He still has to squint as he steps out into the hallway. The fluorescent lights of the ship are about as harsh as staring straight into a star, but it wakes him up as good as a cup of caff. It's the middle of the nightshift, but the halls are still just as busy as usual. Since there is no distinct day or night in the middle of deep space, they are just suggestions to ensure people actually sleep.

It's not as comforting as taking walks around the sleeping Temple when he can't sleep. There is a blissfulness to being awake when the rest of the planet isn't that Anakin finds refreshing from the usual bustle of the day. The best he can find is the mess, where only a few troopers sit around at the tables with cups of caff or snacks.

Anakin helps himself to his own cup, pouring a decent amount of sugar in for good measure. He settles down at a table with his datapad. Maybe this time he'll actually get his council report in on time, at least. He spends the next hour or so filling out his paperwork and working up a decent collection of caff cups and snack wrappers. By the time he reaches his last assigned task, the dinner rush has begun for the night-shifters.

"General Skywalker?" he looks up to see Rex standing with his own cup of caff in hand. Anakin gives him a friendly smile.

"Oh hey, Rex, what are you doing up?"

"Could ask you the same, sir," he sits down on the bench, eyeing the four other empty cups strewn about.

"Paperwork. Couldn't sleep."

The corner of Rex's mouth upturns in a half-smile. "More and more like General Kenobi, every day."

"Don't even joke like that, Rex, I would never hear the end of it," he says, though a small part of his mind curses that the captain is actually right. Using paperwork as an excuse to avoid sleep? He might as well grow a beard and have a Core accent.

"Only joking, of course, sir."

"So what's your excuse?"

"My excuse?"

"Our first call isn't for another few hours, and I've never seen you up and about at this time."

Rex takes a long sip from his drink. Stalling, it seems.

"To be frank, sir, ever since Umbara I tend to... wake up earlier."

Anakin searches the clone captain's face, and suddenly he recognizes it. The dark circles and bloodshot eyes are faint, but definitely there.

"The dreams keep you up?" he asks casually. Anakin has always liked Rex because he isn't afraid to be more candid around him. He has the respect of a leader, but he isn't so uptight about his rank. Through their time working closely together, they have actually begun to be somewhat of friends. At least, Anakin considers Rex to be a friend.

The clone looks up at him with surprise. "Well, sometimes, yes. How did you--"

"Like I said, I'm not Obi-Wan. Paperwork doesn't keep me up at night."

It feels good to actually admit it aloud to someone. To be able to say he's having bad dreams without getting a lecture from his master or getting watched like a hawk by his padawan. Especially if Rex is having the same issue.

They let this revelation blanket around them as they continue to sip on their caff. Even with six cups in his system, Anakin's body feels heavy and fatigued. It takes much longer to complete the last form with the amount of time he has to read and reread things to make sure he is understanding it right. His vision keeps blurring as though he is on the verge of falling asleep.

That's something Anakin has never had a problem with-- falling asleep. It takes him mere minutes to close his eyes and fall into a deep sleep. It's just the damned dreams that wake him up and ruin his rest.

"Uh, sir?" he hears through a clearing throat. Anakin opens his eyes and realizes he has dozed off with his forehead on the datapad. He smiles away the embarrassment, shaking his head.

"This caff sucks."

"You know they have decaf out after lunch right?"

He blinks. "Decaff?" Anakin says it as though it's a word in a foreign language.

"Yes, you have to request for a pot of regular. New health initiative started in the last month or so to improve... sleep."

The Jedi general crosses his arms over his chest. "And nobody told me?"

"I suppose they thought the label on the pot sufficed."

He glances over at the caff machine and, in fact, there is a label reading DECAF. Fair enough. He looks back at Rex, who is passively amused by all of this.

"Kix has too much power. It's going to go to his head."

Rex smiles, shaking his head but not disagreeing. Now disgusted by his caff, the knight casts aside the half-empty cup. The lack of caffeine definitely explains why he is still so tired.

"I should be going to prep for the morning briefing, then," Rex says, standing up and grabbing his bucket from the bench. He downs the remainder of his coffee and tucks his helmet under his arms. "Thanks for the company, though, general."

"Anytime. I suppose I will see you at the update."

"Oh right," Rex says, pausing and looking back down at him. "I have messages for you. General Kenobi commed to let you know they have postponed the update meeting to tomorrow. And we will be in hyperspace another full day before arriving at our check-in point."

He does the mental gymnastics of cycling through his schedule and realizes his entire day is clear of meetings. A day off? That is about as rare as Ahsoka not being snippy. He even has his paperwork done now so...

"Well in that case, maybe I will take the decaf as a sign and... take a nap." He can feel his mind more clear now. Usually, that means he can manage a few good hours without another nightmare if he has any at all. Though he was adamant about not wanting to go back to bed a few hours ago, suddenly laying down sounds amazing.

Rex smiles. "Very good, sir. I will be sure to comm you if we need anything, of course."

The clone captain walks off, and Anakin looks around at his little collection of trash, tired and a little dumbfounded.

He has a sudden suspicious feeling Ahsoka hasn't been tattling to Obi-Wan, but to Rex. Anakin smiles to himself, shakes his head, and gathers up his things to go back for some extra shut-eye.

__________

When Ahsoka can't sleep, she pulls her old Jedi cloak out of her closet. It's not something she wears anymore-- not for a long time at this point-- but it is something she has kept close to her ever since going on the run from the Empire.

There is just something about that thick, wooly fabric that is like a security blanket when she encases herself in it. It still smells like a mix of the standard-issue laundry detergent and engine oil. She can run her fingers along the hem, recognizing the familiar fray on the right sleeve that she used to pick at when she was nervous, or the hole that Master Kenobi had to patch three separate times in the pocket. There is a burnt edge on the hood where Anakin managed to nick it with his saber, and sometimes the tip of her montral would peek out.

Today she can't sleep, and she isn't sure why. Sometimes, she has these periods of time where falling asleep and staying asleep are more difficult than they should be. She suspects it has something to do with stress, which she has plenty of, all the time. The cloak always seems to help, so she grabs it. It always reminds her of Master Obi-Wan and his habit of losing his own cloaks. When she pulls it around herself it feels like a hug from Anakin. And when she closes her eyes she pretends she is in another time and another place. A time when her mentors watched over her and protected her and she wasn't so alone.

A part of her thinks that somewhere in the Force they are still looking over her. It is a Jedi teaching that she still holds a belief in that in death all are returned to the Force... Which means the same energy field that surrounds her and binds her is Anakin Skywalker. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Plo Koon. Every other Jedi that didn't make it through Order 66. Though the thought of their deaths brings a deep sadness she still cannot quite process, it also reminds her that when she wraps the Force around herself she isn't as alone as she feels. Sleep comes easier.

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 18 - Year 2: February

(ao3 link)

In lieu of the incident with the sleeping draught, all prefects were mandated to enroll in Professor Palpatine’s brand new weekly Potions seminars. As the misstep with the Vitamix potion along with Maul’s nearing presence showed, it was ideal that all prefects be properly trained in the event that professors were once again subdued. This, they felt, combined with Professor Fisto’s ongoing dueling club, would prepare them.

Obi-Wan’s doubts of how prepared they could possibly be for something so unpredictable grew stronger with each day. Although he was already enrolled in the advanced potions class, he would never deny the opportunity to learn more. If anything, it would at least offer more practice.

“Given that it’s February, I figured it best we start with a common favorite amongst the masses of troublemakers,” Palpatine’s shoes clicked on the ground as he paced at the front of the room.

From what Obi-Wan understood, Palpatine didn’t receive any punishment for the accidental sleeping potion brew. Yoda had, of course, received a rather scathing howler from the Ministry at his supposed flightiness, of which he took the blame for. It seemed Anakin had stepped up and claimed it was he who accidentally knocked the draught in the already brewing potion.

That all certainly added up and did not help Anakin’s reputation amongst his peers.

“Any guesses to what that would be?” Palpatine asked, eagerly taking in the small crowd of Hogwarts’ best with expectant eyes.

Because this was a class full of prefects, each were considerably decent students and wanted to learn. There were exceptions, Obi-Wan realized as he looked over to a nearly snoozing Zeb, but they were outliers.

“Love potions?” Breha Organa said rather dreamily. Obi-Wan didn’t need to turn around to know she’d been looking at Bail as she said it.

“Right you are, Breha!” Palpatine smiled, “Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world, at that. Many of you and your students are for the first time diving into the wondrous and mysterious landscape that is romance. Some of you aren’t even aware that you are.”

Did he look at Obi-Wan on purpose? No, that would be silly. Palpatine always took care to rove eye contact throughout the classroom. It was a sufficient method of maintaining focus and Obi-Wan knew this, but he still shifted his gaze immediately elsewhere like he’d been caught copying homework.

“Love and potions aren’t all that different, really.” He continued, “The right and organic combination makes a fruitful and prosperous brew. The wrong and inauthentic combination is bitter and not made to last.”

“And if you’re not careful, you could end up with a wrinkly, scrawny little creature.” Zeb added knowingly, earning a few chuckles throughout the group.

“As if you’ve got anything to worry about there.” Caleb muttered, and much to Zeb’s dismay, acquired a more popular response.

“Boys, please.” Palpatine chastised, “I don’t want word to travel that Gryffindor’s prefects lost them points.”

“Cody would have an aneurysm,” Satine whispered and Obi-Wan only nodded in response. It was no secret to either of them that their friend was less than pleased with how bleak Gryffindor’s odds of obtaining either the House or Quidditch cup were becoming. If he heard that Caleb and Zeb worsened those odds, neither would be awaiting a very pretty conversation.

The troublesome two seemed to recognize this and justly shut their traps.

The class turned back to Palpatine, who seemed rather satisfied with the change in their mood and circled around the cauldron at the center of his desk. From it, emerged a pink fog that resembled a cloud at sunset and judging by the smile its scent drew from Palpatine, it smelled as pleasant as it looked.

“A love potion manufactures the deepest desires from the person who ingests it, manifesting them all at once in an intoxicating fashion that causes them to see the intended target in a different light.” He said almost reverently, “Ironically, it’s called a love potion, when it should really be called an infatuation potion.”

“That’s because you can’t build love from a substance.” Satine muttered from beside him. “Try as some might.”

Obi-Wan stared at the cauldron. He’d heard of amortentia. Evidently, a cheap ineffective version was sold at Zonko’s in Hogsmeade, though he never took much care to notice. He didn’t know much about love, save for the fact that it seemed highly unlikely for anything to recreate something as complicated as attraction.

She raised her hand, “Professor? Aren’t love potions banned at Hogwarts?”

“That they are,” Palpatine said with crossed hands, “Though that’s not to say they haven’t been smuggled in before.”

“Why would they do that?” A familiar high pitched voice from the back called.

Despite his interest in the subject, Obi-Wan couldn’t resist snapping his neck in turning to see none other than Anakin Skywalker sitting at the back desk, looking incredibly small in stature next to Onaconda Farr. Farr, in his defense, looked just as confused by Anakin’s presence as Obi-Wan felt.

“What are you doing here?” Obi-Wan asked him, “This is supposed to be for prefects only.”

“Not to worry, Mr. Kenobi, I did grant Anakin permission to attend.” Palpatine answered before Anakin could muster up a smart response, “Anakin shows a real knack for potions and given the circumstances, I would say it’s best that he be included whenever he could be protected.”

Obi-Wan slumped back in his chair, feeling properly admonished. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Anakin was capable. It was quite the opposite, actually, but there was an order to these things and learning advanced spells before one was ready did not seem indicative of a sound idea. Anakin needed to learn the building blocks still, whether he believed it or not. Despite his talent, he knew there was an absence of maturity to handle heavy source material. Dueling was one thing, as there was an obvious precedence for it right now and it was typically taught to some degree during second year anyway. Teaching Anakin about love potions felt more like giving a dog a steak and telling him not to eat it. He could try to convince everyone that he was over his crush on Padmé all he wanted, but it simply wasn’t true.

“To answer your question, Anakin,” Palpatine continued, “When someone is too blind with desperation to see reason, they will do just about anything to acquire what they want. A love potion, while sounding frilly and fun, occludes all rational thinking from the person it's given to.”

“And typically, it’s not ingested voluntarily.” Satine added.

Obi-Wan frowned, thinking of the potentially dastardly effects such a tool could provide for a desperately lovesick person. It was no different than being under a curse, in a sense, because the poor sap trapped in such a state had no agency whatsoever.

“How does one tell if someone is suffering from the effects of a love potion?” Fenn Rau asked.

“Why, you see them every day in young and happy couples as you walk through these halls. They’re starry-eyed, flushed, unspeakably happy, practically in a trance.”

“How are we to tell the difference then?” Obi-Wan asked.

“These features tend to be a good deal more exemplified and elongated.” Palpatine said, “For instance, while the honeymoon phase is technically normal, it’s really not meant to last. There’s also known to be loss of memory in the person as the potion begins to fade. We advise that you all keep an eye and see if you notice any excessively clingy and almost controlling couples.”

Obi-Wan thought about his parents, finding it very hard to believe they ever had any semblance of a honeymoon phase. They were so professional all the time that he’d rarely seen them even smile in the other’s presence. Of course, he was always splitting up sneaky couples that tried to sneak off to snog, so he supposed he did have some experience witnessing what Palpatine was referring to. Part of him was having a difficult time reconciling with the fact that it was their ancient potions professor who was explaining to them the complexities of romance.

“Because of the dangers that this possesses,” He waved a little pink vial around for all to show, allowing the light to catch it in a way that made it sparkle, “I believe it’s important that you understand these properties quite well and that you take care not to share this information outside of this room.”

There was a warning tone to his voice that was rarely used and Obi-Wan swore everyone sat up even straighter, though he doubted that was possible for Satine, who already appeared quite alert.

“It’s okay to take notes, of course, right?” Hondo asked from the other back corner of the room opposite to Anakin.

“Yes, but-” The older man did a double take as he whipped back around, “Hondo, what are you doing here?”

Obi-Wan thought it was fairly obvious what Hondo was doing and why he was suddenly so apt to take notes. He hadn’t thought to say anything when he originally saw him, seeing as if Anakin was invited, maybe he’d thought to include another unexpected guest. Hondo was possessed for a significant amount of time, after all.”

“Just trying to perfect my recipe is all.” Hondo had the gall to shrug, “What’s so wrong about that?”

“You mean besides intruding upon a meeting where you are not welcome and admitting in advance that you intend to sell an illegal substance throughout the school?” Palpatine asked, “I suppose we could discuss your time management skills, seeing as you have plenty of potion’s homework that you could be catching up on.”

Reading the room for a change, Hondo sighed like a great disservice had just been done to him, “You can’t fault a guy for trying.”

“Actually, I can. 15 points from Slytherin.” Palpatine crossed his arms, “And I expect your essay on Felix Felicis on my desk tomorrow morning.”

“My tutor isn’t going to like that.” Hondo grumbled as he walked by Obi-Wan, “He’s not even finished my Charms presentation.”

“Why would you say that to us?” Satine hissed, knowing full well that they were now going to have to look up the legitimacy of Hondo’s new “tutor” in their dwindling free time.  

“I’m honest to a fault!” He shrugged as he fully exited the room and was promptly locked out by Palpatine. He even took the effort of using two padlocks to secure the job. To be fair, Hondo was quite slippery.

“Now,” He said as he clapped his hands together once, “Why don’t we get to the important part? Brewing!”

***

This was a colossal waste of his time, skills, and resources.

While Sidious normally enjoyed when the school devolved into chaos, he did not appreciate when it stood in the way of his plans. Right now, his former apprentice was the obstacle that could feasibly destroy everything he’d worked tirelessly to achieve, all before it could truly start.

He knew he should have killed him when he had the chance, but Azkaban just seemed all the more fitting for the murder machine to waste his days away at the hand of his own failure. He would not make that mistake ever again.

So, it seemed Sidious’ own interests aligned with the rest of his colleagues: get rid of Maul. It felt peculiar- to be on the same side as the enemy, but if he wanted to defeat them, he needed this loose cannon of a pawn to be decimated before it was too late.

And through it all, the putrid “open-minded” community only served to remind him why they needed to be brought to an end. In what world would enlisting the Potions professor to teach love potions be useful? How he managed to seem convincing, he was unsure, because there was no greater waste of time than the frivolous pursuit of love. Well, unless it was being manipulated as a fulcrum for change.

Even with as little soul as he had remaining, if any, he still found the smell of amortentia to be utterly arousing. They certainly wouldn’t enjoy to know what he smelled when he breathed in amortentia: fire, ash, rubble, stained blood.

They should be barricading, sending students out in troves to hunt the demon down, and utilize the muggle-borns as bait in a trap to be sprung. Maul couldn’t resist the hunt. He knew such instincts never changed, not even from the waning sense of purpose that Azkaban reduced men to.

Instead, here he was, giving a pointless lecture on the dangers of love potions. After which, they’ll have another practice dueling session with snowballs. It was pitiful. At the very least, they should be using stones. Children needed to learn pain at an early age. They needed to become so familiar with the sensation that they found home in it. In the hearth of that home, is the power that exists from within. Only then, can they prevail.

He glanced to the back corner of the room and felt his lips twitch. Between this year and the last, Skywalker was becoming quite acquainted with pain. He grimaced as he took in the rest of the lot, noting how soft they all were as they nervously discovered what attracted them when they leaned over their brewing cauldrons. At least he’d been able to kick that waste of blood Ohnaka out. He was spared of that particular headache, especially when just looking at the boy angered him to no end when he considered how deeply that botched experiment failed. Truly, that family couldn’t do anything right- not even when under hypnosis.

He had no doubts that Maul was scoping out the land, realizing just how weak these wizards had gotten since he was in school- that his lessons from Sidious had always reigned supreme and that no one stood in his way, save for Yoda and Sidious, himself. That would be disastrous if anyone witnessed a reunion between the two. They would know instantly.

Then again, if Sidious were to capture and kill Maul, he would only further his popularity amongst the simpletons that allegedly “ran” their community. Perhaps, there could be salvaging of this wreck. Tyranus need not be the only one to pull strings in the wake of Maul’s drama. It was only fitting, since Sidious was the marionettist and this was to be his show.

Not only that, but such a feat would certainly impress the boy, who clearly had a sound reason for disliking Maul. While Sidious loathed the concept of needing to work towards the trust and approval of a child, understood that in due time, it would be worth it.

Even if such a boy nearly killed them all with his own klutziness.

Sidious breathed a steadying breath, just barely turned away from any possible lingering gazes.

He moved over to his desk and opened the top drawer. He needed a drink.

***

Satine, like many of the curious girls in her year, had done fair research on the subject of amortentia. Apparently, it had ruined its fair share of marriages as well as mental health states, making it completely illegal to produce for private or public subsidization. It seemed, curiously, only the aurors could do so with Ministry approval. That, much to Satine’s confusion, was the case for many subjects.

“Because I would hate to have a bunch of little zombies in my class, we’ll just be smelling the potions today.” Palpatine announced.

Despite her knowledge that amortentia affected everyone differently, she still wasn’t quite expecting the drunk-like sensation that filled her up from head to toe as she took a deep breath in from the fumes that emanated off the surface. Everything around her seemed to move in slow motion and her chest rose and fell with the relaxed notion of falling asleep, except she simultaneously never felt more stimulated in her life.

She’d never known that you could smell so many wonderful things at once yet still differentiate them for what they were and more importantly, how it got her flushed in a way that made her shift in her seat.

New books, homemade apple pie, crisp fall air, the lingering remnants of a minty aftershave wrapping around her like a scarf…

She started out of her reverie, blushing too mad to even consider looking to her left no matter how curious she suddenly was. Her heart was beating out of her chest and if she wasn’t absolutely certain of the potency of amortentia, she’d have the decency to be more embarrassed. Instead, she willed herself to calm down and refused to breathe through her nose any further, no matter how warm she felt when she had.

While none of what she witnessed was news to her per say, it wasn’t like she made a habit of lollygagging and daydreaming in the middle of a classroom setting. It was quite disarming to be so vulnerable yet also so close to what (or who, for that matter) was driving her crazy to begin with.

“Problem, Mr. Kenobi?” Palpatine was suddenly standing in front of them, which was at least a little bit of a distraction.

A ringing in her brain wanted desperately to ask him what he smelled, but she felt herself frown deeply when she noticed Obi-Wan was leaning with his entire face in his little cauldron, trying desperately to catch a whiff. Surely, if he got any closer, he was going to accidentally inhale the potion through his nose.

“I might have brewed it incorrectly.” He muttered, echoing a bit from still having his head in the cauldron.

“Let me see,” Palpatine urged him to lift his head and under normal circumstances, Satine might tease him for the little creases that the rim brought to his face.

The professor raised his nose to the fumes that still wafted through the air and smiled dreamily. She wondered if they would ever know what he was seeing when he inhaled the scent. It was none of their business to ask, but she really couldn’t picture Palpatine being in love with anyone.

“No, no, it’s perfectly correct,” He said with the airs of residual glee, “Why?”

Instead of giving him a straight answer, Obi-Wan turned to Satine, “I think I need you to move.”

Any previous concern, as per usual with Obi-Wan, was replaced with a scalding sort of annoyance only reserved for him, “What? Why?”

As she held her own special adverse reaction to him, he had one for her that matched. His eyebrows furrowed as he gestured to his cauldron. Sometimes, he was far too serious for his own good, “As lovely as your perfume is, you don’t need to go so heavy-handed with it! I can’t smell the potion.”

Satine, who initially believed they were going to get into an argument, found that she had no points to be made, because all that came out of her mouth was a little puff of air. Palpatine, if she had the eyes to spare him a look, was equally as surprised, even if not nearly as emotionally invested in such a rebuff.

“What?” Obi-Wan finally asked, growing more annoyed at not being in on the punchline.

Everyone else was suspiciously quiet too, much to Satine’s growing unease, but she could hardly spare a thought other than to say, “I’m out of perfume, actually. I sent Copikla home yesterday so my mum could send me a new bottle.”

Instead of being annoyed, the clouds seemed to clear, if only a little bit, and he flickered back to the potion, “But how-”

“-It smells different to everyone.” Palpatine, who looked between the two of them with his face stretched in discomfort and eyebrows raised beyond physics, clarified with a tone that was clearly meant for only them, “Based on what the individual finds attractive.”

All of the color seemed to wash out of Obi-Wan’s charmingly embarrassed face as his mind worked rapidly to wrap his head around that answer. Even though she hadn’t breathed in her potion again, Satine still swore she was suddenly feeling the effects of it.

“I- Well,” He tried to formulate a response, but to his credit, he had just admitted that he was at the very least attracted to her perfume (which she made the mental note to stock up on more frequently), in front of the entire class of prefects and Anakin.

“Oooooooh Obi-Wan likes perfume.” Anakin, while completely missing the point and a big teasing opportunity, shattered the tension that previously froze the entire room and everyone burst out into a fit of needed laughter. Even Obi-Wan laughed, though nervously, as he flashed Satine the occasional glance here and there through lowered lashes, as if trying to gage her reaction to this accidental admission.

She smiled. Clearly, it was to her benefit to read ahead of him.

“For what it’s worth,” She said in the midst of the uncontrollable chatter that erupted thanks to Anakin’s offhand comment, “You smell nice too.”

He blushed, which she found she quite liked the shade of pink on his face, “Thanks.”

It didn’t address the underlying implications, just as neither of them seized the moment to do so on Christmas Eve. She found it was just as frustrating trying to guess what was going on inside of his head as it was waiting for him to do something about the things she did know.

As much as she wanted the cat to be fully out of the bag, she knew the middle of Palpatine’s potions class wasn’t the time or place.

***

“I believe it’s a mistake to have any more Hogsmeade trips this year,” Qui-Gon said to his other heads of house and to Yoda, who was staring quite pensively out the window, “Not when we know what we know. It’s quite possible that Maul has an entrance to the school if he truly is behind what happened to Bultar Swan.”

“We have no real proof that he is, though.” Shaak Ti said, “It certainly doesn’t seem like his style.”

“While I know the usual term “innocent until proven guilty” is our mantra, I think we should consider being more hesitant with Maul.” Qui-Gon said.

“I agree,” Windu nodded, standing firmly next to him, “Though having more students out of the school would allow us a proper amount of time to sweep the school and see if he had any secret entrances.”

“We have that same opportunity at night.” Qui-Gon said.

“You know this school shifts and changes between night and day,” Palpatine said warily, “It is ever-moving and Bultar Swan was attacked in broad daylight in a common room.”

“Why are we not interviewing more Ravenclaws then?” Windu asked, “We’ve got to do something! Skywalker’s mother is missing and we all know that boy isn’t going to lay down and allow for speculation to simply rise without doing something foolish.”

“I don’t appreciate your assumptions of Anakin.” Qui-Gon said, “He’s a bright, even if impulsive boy, who is going through an unspeakable grief.”

“No one twice his age should have to endure what he’s going through,” Shaak Ti said kindly, “Let alone as young as he.”

“I’m not saying he has no reason to act out.” Windu raised his hands, “I’m merely stating that it is only a matter of time before he takes matters into his own hands.”

“That would make it easier for Maul, unfortunately,” Palpatine agreed, “Perhaps we should motion to shut off the Floo network?”

“Done that, I have.” Yoda spoke up, “Because used it, he did.”

“For what?” Qui-Gon asked eagerly.

“Unknown location, he accessed.” Yoda mused, “Unregistered through the network, it is. Talk to Dooku, I suspect.”

Palpatine frowned, “That can’t be good.”

“No, it can’t.” Windu agreed, “Can you extend your protective charms to Hogsmeade, Yoda?”

“Do that, I did, after we woke up from the sleeping incident.”

“Oh, so it’s safe then.” Shaak Ti shrugged, “The dementors haven’t detected Maul on the inside and he was last seen on Diagon Alley.”

“I’m sure this is quite exhausting for you, Headmaster.” Windu acknowledged.

It was true. Extending his powers over an entire settlement as well as the castle at all times would have drained any normal wizard to death. Yoda, as it were, was not a normal wizard. Even still, it was visible on his worn features that he was exhausted.

“Safe, the students should be,” He said instead, “But careful we will still be. Search the school we will for secret entrances while they are gone, we will.”

***

“Are they gone yet?” Anakin asked, ducking up from where he’d been digging furiously through his trunk. Rex who was sitting on the window sill keeping watch over the massive gates of Hogwarts nodded slowly.

“Yeah I think so,” He confirmed, stretching his arms above his head and yawning, “I dunno mate, don’t you think a nice Saturday in might be nicer than trying this again. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“Psh!” Anakin waved a hand, “Well we’re certainly not trying anything like that again. Although I would like to get another look at that sword.”

“I figured you’d seen enough swords in your short life,” Rex rolled his eyes, “Didn’t Dooku intend to sacrifice you with one?”

“It was still cool, but I’m not really trying to go to Hogsmeade, just give off a good impression.” Anakin shrugged before he pulled out his nicest T-Shirt, swiftly pulling the one he had been wearing off and switching them out, “Well how do I look?”

“The same but in green,” Rex deadpanned leaning his head on his hand, “If all we’re doing up here is playing dress up then I’d much rather get this show on the road.”

“Oh come on,” Anakin checked himself out in the dingy mirror on the back of the door. He was really hoping he’d run into Padmé; he thought she’d like it. He’d already seen her leave, but overheard her talking to her friends about Rabé meeting them later and taking the tunnels. His mum had bought it for him over the summer and he tried to push past the rising feeling of sadness, “We had to wait until all the prefects left anyways, I’m not really looking to be caught and dragged back here by any of them and especially not Zeb, who was eyeing us up pretty hard at breakfast.”

Rex shuddered, “Definitely don’t need him tossing us through the portrait hole again. It’s not our fault that the rest of the second years left without us!”

“I’d hate to see what happens if we’re caught alone of our own accord,” Anakin grinned, despite the true statement, such a thing wouldn’t stop them, “Well, let’s go before Windu gets here to babysit.”

“Right,” Rex grimaced, standing up and grabbing his wand. Anakin grabbed his as well, throwing it into his robe, it was much too cold to go around without it, and they headed down and out of the common room. He really hoped no one would snitch on them.

The two traversed the halls carefully. Keeping quiet for once to listen for approaching footsteps and ducking into a few empty classrooms to avoid the ghosts lurking around the otherwise empty halls. It took much longer than they’d have liked to make it down to where the tunnel’s entrance would begin. Luckily, the map showed Rabé’s little figure moving in that direction too, marking a bit of a clear path. She would lead them straight to Padmé.

Anakin’s heart rate increased for more reasons than being caught.

He thought better of it. Obi-Wan would probably kill him on the spot if he slithered out of the tunnel and into Hogsmeade. Not to mention, Maul was lurking around in the area looking for him. Maybe, if they caught up with Rabé in the tunnel, he could simply give her the necklace to give to Padmé.

It didn’t sound incredibly indicative of his house in terms of bravery, but he knew at least Obi-Wan would approve of his method.  

“Almost there!” Anakin grinned at Rex, but almost had his head knocked clean from his body when Rex grabbed his robe and yanked him hard into an empty classroom, “Wha-?”

“Shh!!” Rex was very much alert and his eyes narrowed as they both heard footsteps echoing off the walls. The footsteps paused just outside of the door and Rex cursed under his breath as a shadow moved towards the entrance. Rex glared at Anakin for a few minutes before mouthing, ‘You owe me!’ and straightening.

“Mr. Fett?” Palpatine’s confused voice echoed off the stone walls, “What are you doing here? And all alone?”

“Sorry Professor,” Rex gave Palpatine a rather over the top concerned look, “It’s just, I haven’t seen Anakin since breakfast and he did mention he was thinking about coming to see you.”

“To see me?” The professor sounded a little more surprised than Anakin thought he should, but perhaps he was trying to avoid looking like he picked favorites, “Well I certainly haven’t seen him. I’ll keep an eye out, but I’m going to need to escort you outside with the other second years.”

Anakin winced, of course even Palpatine wouldn’t be willing to overlook a student wandering the halls without an escort. He’d have to bring Rex back something good from Hogsmeade.

“Alright, thank you Professor,” Rex nodded, although he didn’t look very thankful in Anakin’s opinion.

Their footsteps faded away, but still Anakin waited a minute longer before darting from the classroom himself.

He wandered the empty halls, being extra careful to listen and flicker his eyes to the map. Rex was a little more perceptive than he tended to be. Anakin certainly didn’t want to get caught, but at least he knew what story to go with if he did.

Finally, he reached the entrance of the tunnel, looking around carefully, he quickly slipped inside and hurried to close the entrance, plunging him into complete darkness.

Anakin pulled his wand out, lighting it with a, “Lumos Maxima,” They’d been working to improve their maximizing skills in charms recently and Anakin felt it was paying off. The tunnels were rather boring and unremarkable. He remembered them being pretty long, though he’d never made it all the way to the end the last time.

He took his time, kicking away rocks and humming softly. He still didn’t want to give his position away if there was someone scouting the tunnel for mischievous students, but boredom without Rex crept in fast.

He paused a moment at an odd noise and listened hard. It was a soft shuffling noise and despite the echo, it sounded like it was coming from behind him. Could it be another student trying the same thing he was? Unlikely, most of the houses were pretty locked down outside. He wasn’t sure why the professors had been so insistent on a supervised snow day, but most students went for it.

That left the possibility that he was about to be caught.

Letting the fear of boring evenings in detention spur him on, he picked up the pace until he was running rather swiftly. With the way his wand was swinging, the light bounced around enough to make him motion sick so he gave it a quiet, “Nox,” not letting up on the speed of which his shoes pounded the ground.

He slowed when he nearly tripped over something lying on the ground, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid running right into someone.

Anakin fell backwards with an, “oof,” He tried to catch his breath for a moment, “Sorry, Rabé,” He said softly standing up, “While I’ve got you, I’ve got a question for you. Lumos.”

His wand tip glowed again, revealing him face to face with a student’s face frozen in a scream. This was not Rabé. Anakin stumbled back, tripping on what felt like the fabric of a scarf, before he saw the glint of eyes reflecting the light off his wand.

Yellow. Bright yellow eyes narrowing as they realized they’d been caught. Anakin felt his heart leap in his chest. Fear filling his lungs, causing him to nearly choke on a scream. He heard the eyes take a step forward and he scrambled to his feet and fell into a sprint. His wand light faded as his concentration waned and he shoved it into his robes.

He shouldn’t be running from Maul, because that’s who it was, of course. He’d vowed revenge even if Qui-Gon always gave him that sad sort of look when he said it. He should be back there giving that kidnapper a piece of his mind. He was the Chosen One, it was his job to save everyone and take down the bad guys.

Even as these thoughts played in his mind, he continued to sprint, fear pushing him into overdrive. He nearly screeched again when he ran full tilt into something human knocking them both to the ground.

“Bloody hell!”

“Rex!” Anakin was relieved to find someone he knew, but it wasn’t enough to stop the adrenaline that had him back on his feet and pulling desperately on Rex’s arm to get him to move, “We have to go now!”

“Great, I just escape Palpatine only to get caught again. Who is it? Windu?” Anakin nearly growled at the slow pace Rex was moving at.

“It’s Maul! We have to go!” That was enough to get him moving.

They didn’t stop to even breathe again until they burst from the wall and right into Professors Palpatine and Qui-Gon who nearly got bowled over.

“What-” Qui-Gon looked ready to start a lecture and Palpatine even looked like he was ready to dole out a few point reductions, but Rex cut them off quickly.

“Anakin saw him!” Rex was pointing his wand at the entrance to the tunnel like Maul was about to come out right then and there for a fight.

“Saw who?” Palpatine asked head tilting to the side in curiosity and Anakin nearly spat the name out as he joined Rex in his battle stance.

“Maul.”

***

The deafening screech that stretched from Hogwarts through Hogsmeade with painful clarity was one that very few students attributed meaning to. It wasn’t unreasonable that students, particularly younger ones, immediately leapt into disorder, running hither and yon, terrified they were about to be dive-bombed. It was a horrible sight to see, even if it didn’t make his job all the more difficult.

Designed with the vocal cords of mandrakes, the emergency siren was only used in times of utter duress and was a means of warning students and faculty to return to Hogwarts at once. Historically, it hadn’t been officially sounded since the early twentieth century. Even still, prefects were always trained on what to do in the event of hearing the siren.

All the training in the world still didn’t fully prepare Obi-Wan for the very real visceral reaction that the ear-splitting sound brought. Of course, he could not spare a single moment to think, a tough reality for a Ravenclaw, and immediately moved forward with what he’d been taught: gather his house, ensure they were all in company, and get them back to the school.

While not given a direct message with it, everyone seemed to share the same thought as he did. There was only one true reason that the archaic alarm would be used right now accompanied by the dementors that jetted across the sky: Maul was close.

Not only close, but likely in their midst.

Shop owners wasted little time in evacuating their premises and battening down the hatches, effectively snuffing the warm glow of Hogsmeade in a singular swoop. His brain was busy scanning the hysterical crowd that was amid constant motion, searching for every and any blue-robed student that he might come across. It occurred to him now that there was perhaps more meaning to the explicitly placed Hogsmeade dress code than the professors led on to. It certainly made rounding up students a lot easier when they were color-coded.

Moving around on the ice-laden stone walkways? Less easy. He’d not only had to catch his own balance in his haste, but many other wobbly students. Even Satine’s elbow was caught by him a time or two, of which she spared no time to thank him, though he knew otherwise she would. She was just as stern as him in their mission, practically grabbing students and sliding them across the way to the huddle of other students, hardly blinking in the process.

It was with this goal in mind that he was able to develop a razor focus that practically tuned out the alarm. That, or the pounding in his ears did a decent job of it. Silently, he found the space to be relieved that Anakin was safe back at the castle with the other younger students.

It couldn’t have taken more than a couple of minutes to successfully corral all of the students that lingered about. It wasn’t as though any of them truly wanted to sneak off, after all. The horror on everyone’s faces spoke volumes of their concern.

Each of the prefects did their headcounts rapidly, trying not to dawdle for a moment longer than necessary, all praying they reached the same number they started with. He felt capable of breathing again when Ravenclaw reached that quota. Gryffindor prefects, it seemed, had forgotten to include themselves for a moment, which briefly induced a panic that was quickly assuaged by an irritated Mace Windu.

Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous to be relieved that Mace Windu and Kit Fisto were the supervising professors that day, but it certainly helped their odds to have experienced fighters of dark magic alongside them. The sky grew dark above them, not from the descending sun, but from the mere presence of the dementors swarming together like an ominous storm cloud.

No one looked back as they were ushered down through the storm cellar beneath Honeydukes, which remained open only at Windu’s order.

“Move quickly, don’t linger, don’t stop, don’t pause!” He ordered in a booming voice that didn’t even need to be amplified with a charm.

While Gryffindor’s prefects had nobly volunteered to lead the charge of students down and through the tunnel, the others remained on the side, performing last-minute counts to ensure all made it safely while urging them to hurry it up. No one seemed to have a problem with performing the latter, but some were getting a little rowdy in the process.

“Hey, hey, this is not an excuse to push or shove!” Satine chastised a few overeager Slytherins, “The only way this works is if you work together!”

She was right, of course, but Obi-Wan believed it was falling on deaf ears. They were terrified and rightfully so. Perhaps they shouldn’t have allowed the Hogsmeade trip to occur in the first place with everything going on. It was almost like they were trying to lure Maul in. If that was the case, it was a very sadistic choice.

Padmé Amidala as well as her friends had been some of the last people to filter in, surprisingly, and tears stained their cheeks.

“Keep it moving, ladies!” Kit Fisto ordered.

“We can’t find Rabé!” Sabé, the girl who looked most like Padmé, cried.

“I’m sure she’s here somewhere.” Windu said, “Slytherin house reported no missing students based on their earlier count. Now GO!”  

“She came later!” Padmé insisted, pushing back against the hands of Fenn Rau, who was trying to make them descend down the ladder. “We never saw her!”

“Then maybe she never came at all?” Satine tried.

“She came.” Padmé looked between both of them, “I know she did! She wouldn’t flake out on us like that. What if something horrible happened to her? What if-”

“-We can explore these possibilities back at Hogwarts.” Windu said, “If she is indeed missing, I will waste no time in coming back for her. I promise you.”

“That is already a waste of time!” Sabé protested, “What if she’s hurt?”

“I cannot risk all of you, including these prefects, for one possibly lingering student. I need to get you back to safety. The tunnels will be locked behind us.” Windu said and waved his wand to provide a gust of air, sending all of the girls down the tunnel against their own will. Satine looked horrified at the choice and frankly, so did Windu for a moment, before he began insisting the prefects follow.

For Obi-Wan, time began to slow down as his brain methodically and almost mechanically traced back through that day, desperately trying to recall if he’d seen Rabé. She stood out among Padmé’s friends in that she was the only Slytherin and yet it was still odd to see them apart. Before the alarm had turned the world on its head, it had been a rather mundane and peaceful day at Hogsmeade. The weather had been nice, if not quite nippy. He’d popped into Tomes & Scrolls with Satine while Cody lingered around Spintwitches, but none of them bought anything. If they had, surely, it would have been lost in the chaos with many other student’s purchases.

He’d debated getting a box of every flavor beans, since Hondo said he had a game of Russian Roulette, but with the beans, brewing. Cody seemed interested and it sounded like less of a consequential gaming experience than Hondo’s usual ventures. He wasn’t afforded the opportunity to go into Honeydukes, but…

Obi-Wan felt his heart stop altogether in his chest. He hadn’t gone into Honeydukes, but he almost did. And who was lingering by the butterbeer stand when he was busy deliberating with Cody?

Rabé.

He’d only caught a glimpse of her for a fraction of a second before he turned around. Clear as daylight and standing at the far end of Hogsmeade. There were other Slytherins around her, but like Padmé, her hair was always intricately woven and this made her stand out.

Where did she go so that none of her friends saw her?

“She was here today,” Obi-Wan lurched forward, grabbing Satine by the arm on instinct.

“How do you know?” She began to ask, eyes searching his own with growing concern.

“I saw her.” He said and then shoved against the stream of students that were still pouring down the tunnel.

“Ben,” It was her turn to grab him, “Wait!”

He didn’t wait, though. Instead, he slipped out of her grasp, which had been firm enough to take his robe with it, and pushed through the crowd. Windu, never the slouch, noticed him instantly and his eyes widened as he realized what Obi-Wan was trying to do. Unlike Padmé and the girls, he didn’t give him the opportunity to stop him, instead lunging forward and falling into an immediate sprint out the door- the cold wind whipping his face so hard that it caused tears to freeze in their wake.

He vaguely heard his name shouted from behind him, but he could only think of finding Rabé before it was too late. It might have been impulsive and it was definitely foolish, but he wouldn’t be able to leave with a clear conscience unless he did everything in his power to bring every student back safely. He understood that the professors needed to do their duty, but Obi-Wan was to be an auror someday. Running into the line of fire was surely a requirement of such a field.

All he could think of was how he knew what it was like to be forgotten. If there was even a small chance of preventing someone else from befalling that fate, he had to try.

Running across the slick stone walkway proved itself to be even more difficult than walking had, but Obi-Wan was utilizing the forward motion that the ice provided him for acceleration. The sky above him was almost completely black- as though Hogsmeade was at risk for being sucked into outer space. Suddenly, the cold that Obi-Wan felt no longer seemed to be as a result from the climate.

He’d studied dementors a good deal over the years and objectively understood how they drained a person from their hopes and dreams, removing the parts of them that basically made them human, but he realized then that he never really knew. He wasn’t even the target for these dementors and just being in their presence made him feel like all color was depleting from the landscape.

He forced himself through it, focusing on the task at hand and what purpose that gave him. He decided to slide by the (now closed) butterbeer stand at the end, where he’d last seen Rabé. After all, it was entirely possible that he was the last person to see her alive. That certainly didn’t give him much comfort.

He turned his head from side to side, trying with a last stitch effort to see if she’d taken refuge in one of the closed shops. The keepers were kind and would more than likely house a lost student during a crisis such as this.

As dread pooled deeper in the pit of his stomach and his body struggled to fight off the shaky chill that climbed its way up his spine, he dared to look up, noticing that the dementors were no longer searching, but swarming. The snowfall only seemed to thicken, which was rather unfortunate as Obi-Wan had to swipe his arm over his eyes several times to continue seeing.

They congregated at the Three Broomsticks- in front of which, Obi-Wan did not stop, but in his haste, did meet the bloodshot amber eyes of none other than the Dathomirian known as Maul. In their midst, Obi-Wan found he would rather embark on a lengthy stay with a dementor than look another second into the killer’s eyes. He was leaning back in his seat with casual aplomb and raised his stein of butterbeer as though in cheers or celebration, selling the chilling lack of regard for life with a cruel smile curling his black and red lips.

It was if he was saying, “I’ve won.”

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly and averted his gaze immediately, understanding that this might be his final moment. If that were so, he would use it wisely.

“No, you won’t.”

Maul’s smile broadened, resembling the actual devil as he did so.

Yes, Obi-Wan was definitely about to die.

However, the moment ended as quick as it started, for once the dementors dive bombed past Obi-Wan and straight for Maul, he flipped a galleon into the air and caught it, allowing himself to disappear to whatever rock he dragged himself from before.

Obi-Wan only thundered forward until he arrived at the end of the limits of the town, sighing deeply and wincing at the wreath of frost that circled his head as he caught his breath. He was immensely cold and with nothing to do about it and worse, began to feel quite defeated. Part of him wanted to rationalize that Rabé did likely go back to the castle. However, whether it was intuition or simply an unknown magic in the air, he could practically feel the presence of another.

Then, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed something poking out of the snow- just next to an old townhome, and drew closer. His steps were heavy and without hopeful anticipation as he regarded the gray fingers breaking through the massive snowdrift.

He knelt down slowly, and raised his wand to blow away the piles of snow and ice and used his hands to remove the last remnants on his own. Attached to the outstretched hand, which served as much as a warning as it did a signal of distress, was the petrified gray face of Rabé.

***

“You have to go back for him!” Satine demanded as she was practically carried by Fisto all the way back to Hogwarts. It had been the only way they were able to prevent her from slipping after Obi-Wan in a panic-induced gut-reaction. She believed he was an idiot for running off the way he did, but that wasn’t to say she didn’t understand the feeling.

“The dementors are mobilizing, Satine!” Windu turned on her with fire in his eyes, “Had Mr. Kenobi not been so uncharacteristically impetuous, we wouldn’t be here.”

“And there would still be a lost child out there!” She growled, not usually one to ever speak to a professor so brazenly, but this was Obi-Wan they were talking about, and she would always be a bit irrational when it came to him. “It doesn’t seem like anyone really cares about that though!”

“Not care? I would lay down my life for every single one of you. Do you think it pleases me to know that not one, but two students could be suffering at the hands of that animal on my watch?” Windu said hotly, “But I cannot jeopardize the dementors potentially catching a murderous sociopath. Obi-Wan would not want me to do that!”

She knew deep in her bones that he was right, but she didn’t take to it any better, instead feeling bile rise up her throat- only subdued by the way it seemed to constrict at the wretched thought of losing her best friend. The cold weight of pure dread settled on her chest, evaporating her fury and nearly suffocating all logical thought.

Nearly.

She turned on her heels back to Ravenclaw house, who were staring at her with a mixture of sympathy and shock. Satine knew she had the capacity to lose her patience, but she tried to always do so with some semblance of professionalism.

“We’ll go find him ourselves then!” Cody, equally as heated as she had been, raged alongside Echo and Fives. All were still dressed for the winter and had their wands at the ready.

“You will do no such thing.” Professor Fisto pulled Cody back by the arm, “Headmaster Yoda is the only one who can save your friend now.”

“What was the point of teaching us all that stuff if we aren’t going to use it?” Cody fired.

“In the event that there is an inescapable situation, Cody.” Fisto said, “I commend your bravery, but there is a line between courage and stupidity.”

“So, that’s it?” Echo chimed in, “We’re just going to run and hide every time a bad guy comes knocking on our door?”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to teach us defense against the dark arts!” Fives added, “I’d say Maul qualifies.”

“Maul is much more than any of you can understand or handle.” Windu’s voice no longer spoke with anger, but from a deep place that teetered on remorse and pity. There was a defeated look in his eyes that Satine would never forget, as though Maul had already won.

“Glad you’ve all been effectively wasting our time then.” Cody snarled, “Propping us up and making us feel as though we’re really doing something all year. What has all of this been? Some show for the Ministry?”

A few other Gryffindors pooled around him and it occurred to Satine just then that if Cody hadn’t been so set on pursuing Quidditch as a career, that he’d make a mighty fine commanding officer. People rallied behind him. They believed in him.

She just wished that call to order wasn’t coming from a place of wishing to fight a dark lord.

“Cody, I highly recommend that you stand down.” Fisto said, “I get that you’re upset, but we need to remain calm. Take your brothers back to the Great Hall and wait for further instructions.”

Cody was teeming with anger- she could tell just looking at him and for a moment, she feared he was going to act brashly. Windu seemed to think the same thing judging by the appraising look he gave him.

He didn’t move, but he did send Echo and Fives back with the Gryffindor prefects and the rest of the house. The other houses and their respective prefects trickled afterwards, each going to the Great Hall for what was surely to be another lockdown.

“Great, another sleepover.” Fives huffed as he went.

“Yeah, telling ghost stories by candlelight altogether will surely keep us safe.” Echo complained under his breath.

“I thought I said-” Fisto began.

“-I’m not leaving until Kenobi is found.” Cody said, “Dead or alive.”

“Don’t you dare talk like that.” She seethed, grabbing his attention instantly and Cody, to his credit, did appear riddled with guilt at her reaction.

“Sorry.” He muttered.

“I expect this level of irrationality from Cody.” Windu said and eyed Satine, “But not you.”

“I’m not leaving either.” She said, clutching Obi-Wan’s robe tightly between clenched fists, “Consequences be damned.”

Where she thought there would be retribution or even more yelling, there was not. Fisto, of the two of them, actually appeared more upset. Windu, instead, nodded slightly. It seemed he understood that this was a battle he would not be winning today.

Satine scanned the area, remembering someone very curious to be missing from the pack. As if it were possible, more horror gnawed at her nerves, “Where’s Anakin?”

That was Maul’s whole purpose for scouting out the school, right?

Windu grimaced, “He did try to sneak out to Hogsmeade earlier.”

Her eyes widened, “But he’s alright?”

“It is to my understanding that young Skywalker is with Professor Jinn.” Palpatine swerved around the corner, dark cloaks flowing behind him dramatically as he reconvened with the professors, “Any update on Maul?”

“No,” Windu said tartly, “But seeing as our students have been debating on staging a coup, it might have been useful to have your presence, Professor.”

The tension, as it was, seemed unbreakable.

“My apologies, Professor Windu, but I will say these students have the right to be upset. All of our efforts to protect the school have thus far failed.” Palpatine said.

Satine also couldn’t blame everyone for being upset. In their effort to make everyone feel safe, they only propped them up with delusions of grandeur. There was a fine line to walk between keeping the student body informed and propagating debilitating fear- at least in this predicament.

“You’re here now.” Fisto said, “That’s what counts.”

Satine wasn’t so sure, but then again, Maul hadn’t broken in yet.

“Surely, it’s not wise to have students so close to the entrance.” Palpatine said.

“Yes, well, it also wasn’t wise to allow Anakin so close to your Vitamix potion.” Windu countered, “I guess we’re all doing things a bit differently right now.”

Palpatine seemed properly slapped by that, because there was little argument that could be brought up to counter the comment. That was, indeed, what happened and it left the school wide open for possible attack.

“Yoda should be back any minute.” Fisto paced the floor, his wet boots making a squeaking noise as he did so, “And hopefully, he has good news.”

“If not?” Cody asked.

“If not, we might have to help him and if that’s the case, you two will stay back.” Windu ordered.

Even Cody didn’t argue with that logic.

Not but a moment later, erratic banging came from the metal door, growing more desperate as the seconds went on. Palpatine leaned forward as if to open it and Fisto grabbed his wrist before he could perform the charm.

“There’s a password.” Fisto said.

“And why would Maul just come knocking on the front door?” Palpatine scoffed.

“Maul is anything but conventional.” Windu reasoned.

Cody and Satine looked between each other as the three professors deliberated. They were beginning to understand why it sometimes felt like it took forever for anything to get done. No one could agree on the simplest things.

“What if it’s Ben?” Satine stepped forward, “You’ve said it yourself that the tunnels are blocked off now.”

“Yoda would have found him and brought him back by apparition.” Fisto said.

“And if he didn’t?”

Windu opened his mouth to respond, but then from a familiar voice, “HELLO THERE? IS ANYONE THERE?”

She glared between the three professors, who were all a bit dumbstruck as they hastily moved to open the door. As it swung open unceremoniously, her heart resumed beating as Obi-Wan Kenobi, pale, drenched and speckled with snowflakes, practically fell through the entryway.

She moved on instinct rather than thought and caught him in a tight hug, combatting the sharp chill that traveled up her spine at his frigid body with the warm relief that he was alive. She only removed herself enough to tightly wrap his robe around his shoulders before pulling him closer.

“Get him some blankets!” Windu ordered while Palpatine was simultaneously brewing a warm beverage from thin air. Satine, for her part, could not let go.

“N-nice t-to see you t-too.” He shivered and did not reject the warm contact.

“You’re an idiot, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” She muttered into his shoulder, but it really didn’t have as much fire as she would have liked it to- not when he looked so pitiful with wet hair in his face, teeth chattering, and a nose and cheeks red from the cold.

“I’m aware.” He said.

“You could have been killed!”

“I know.”

“And you really couldn’t have at least brought your robe with you if you were going to go running off on a deadly mission?”

“You’re right.”

“Stop agreeing with me!” She leaned back and glared at him.

“My apologies,” He smiled ruefully, but it faded almost instantly, “All the trouble I’ve caused, I’m afraid it was for nothing.”

“What do you mean?” Fisto cut in.

“I saw him.” Obi-Wan’s voice was hollow when he said it. His eyes became downcast as he reminisced, “And Rabé. I couldn’t move her on my own… She was frozen in carbonite.”

Windu cursed, scrubbing a hand over his bald head, “And Maul?”

“Gone.” Obi-Wan said, “He used a portkey before the dementors could get to him.”

***

The dementors separated like parting clouds, allowing for remnants of dwindling sunlight to cast a yellow beam onto Hogsmeade. Even with the sunset behind it, the usually buzzing and quaint town looked barren without the lively folk that inhabited it. It was to their best interest to hide, of course, and he knew that once this awful storm passed, they would return again. Yoda moved slowly through the snow, feet unbothered by the crunch of the ice beneath him.

He had no doubt that Maul was here, but held equal assurance that he no longer was. His protective charms were supposed to stop people from getting in, not out.

He grimaced as he knelt to the Slytherin girl’s motionless body- frozen in time with a horrific expression painting her features. She would need to join the growing group that took up beds in Madame Nema’s hospital wing. He just hoped with everything in him that they could make this right.

It tugged at his heart that children always seemed to be the ones to suffer for the choices of adults. This one was not excluded as Yoda and the other professors deemed that it would be safe.

It should have been safe.

He cursed as he thought back to the extensive lengths he’d gone to in protecting the school. He was exhausted, constantly firing off on all cylinders to keep this place safe. Even Hogsmeade hadn’t been exempt from his reach.

Well it had, but it seemed the small window of Maul’s murder in Diagon Alley to Yoda waking up from the botched Vitamix potion was the hole he’d crawled through. The dementors hadn’t detected him, which was a whole other concern that he would need to investigate at a later time.

There were so many ways that they failed.

Yes, well, this girl’s parents will not enjoy a meager response like that, so he ought to think of something better. Either way, he would not be sleeping well for his hubris. Maul might not storm the castle with his being there, but he was not above dancing around it. He was boxed out for now, but there was only so much that could be done. He had managed to convince them to disallow apparition for the time being without Ministry approval. This combined with the monitorization of the Floo network, limited Maul significantly.

However, there were always portkeys, which was the most secure way for a person in hiding to quickly transport. You didn’t need a license for it and you didn’t even leave a trace on your wand in the process.

It seemed Maul was getting significant joy from toying with them by instilling fear. It was just like a dark wizard to play on people’s emotions as such.

And yet…

He looked back down at the girl with a different sort of befuddlement. Not that he was complaining, but why hadn’t he killed her? Was it because it would have drawn too much attention for his liking? That didn’t seem right, though, because he had no problem murdering the guards at Azkaban or that store owner on Diagon Alley. Why utilize this mysterious alternative method now?

It hadn’t been the first time, obviously. There was the first official occurrence in December, not to mention the carbon remnants found in Shmi Skywalker’s flat, and Obi-Wan and Satine’s discovery at the Shrieking Shack.

Maul had certainly developed a predilection for the long con in his time locked away in Azkaban. Yoda would say it was out of character if he didn’t understand how much a man could change from trauma. He’d seen it in his own face and he’d seen it in many other’s. Maul didn’t want to mess up this time. He wanted his target and he wanted it done right.

But why Anakin Skywalker? Surely, Maul didn’t buy into the Chosen One prophecy. And if he did, why the sudden malevolence towards the boy? Nothing from the ancient texts seemed to make any reference to Maul in the slightest. It wouldn’t have affected him in Azkaban.

Would it?

As Yoda waved his wand once to lift the casket of carbon from the ground to float aimlessly behind him, he turned back towards the castle, realizing not for the first time that the more he learned, the more he had to ask.

***

“We were worried you became a popsicle out there,” Cody said as he took off his own robe and coat to also wrap around Obi-Wan. They all sat in the Great Hall with the rest of the student body, each positioned on their own sleeping bag as they faced each other. Despite having been inside for over an hour, Obi-Wan still clutched the blankets that were given to him tightly and didn’t reject Cody’s addition to the pile.

“I’m sure he was more concerned about seeing Maul.” Satine said.

“I’m sure he was.” Ventress sauntered by with her trademark smirk painted on her black-stained lips.

“Come off it, Ventress,” Cody scowled, “Kenobi wouldn’t lie about such a thing. Dementors were there too.”

“They’ve been here the entire time, Fett.” Ventress said, “How many false scares have there been? I’m beginning to believe it’s all conspiracy, myself.”

“It’s that level of thinking that’s going to get someone seriously injured.” Satine said, “Or worse.”

“Maybe then someone will start to take legitimate action,” She sighed almost dreamily, like she was fantasizing about the possibility.

“And I suppose Rabé basically turning to stone was just nothing.” Cody barked.

“A pity, truly.” She inspected her fingernails, which were actually quite noticeably jagged and cracked with chipped black polish, “Have we not noticed that every victim has been pureblood? You don’t hear the Ministry talking about that, of course.”

“What are you getting at?” Satine growled.

“I’m just saying, Duchess,” Ventress displayed her best pout, which coming from her, still had all the appearances of a cat ready to pounce, “I would hate to see a group marginalized by their blood type.”

“Listen here, Ventress-” She clutched his sleeping bag tightly and was surely ready to fire off on a meaningful tangent of her own, but was interrupted by the sound of barreling footsteps coming their way.

Anakin and Rex came sprinting down the aisle and slid onto their knees towards where they sat. Anakin, for his part, skidded right into Obi-Wan and nearly knocked him over by the velocity at which he traveled.

“Where have you two been?” Cody asked.

“We were with Qui-Gon!” Anakin said and looked around to Obi-Wan, “Fives just told us about what happened at Hogsmeade and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Obi-Wan’s heart melted at the thought of Anakin’s concern and ruffled his hair, “Not a scratch on me.”

Anakin nodded in relief, “That’s good. It’s crazy that we both saw Maul today and he didn’t even do anything to either of us!”

Obi-Wan, Satine, Cody, and the briefly forgotten Ventress all snapped their attention towards Anakin in surprise.

“I’m sorry, what?” Satine was the first to speak.

“When and where did you see Maul?” Cody followed shortly behind.

“And you lived?” It was unclear whether Ventress was surprised or disappointed.

Obi-Wan, in all fairness, was still processing the small twelve year old boy, who presumably alone, faced the bloodthirsty killer that had it out for him. He knew he must have looked horrified, because Anakin’s own worry seemed to grow by just looking at Obi-Wan.

“I’m okay!” He said first, knowing that this was the most important thing, “And for the record, it wasn’t my fault.”

“It was a little your fault.” Rex winced.

“Rex! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Anakin whined.

“What did you do?” Obi-Wan pinched his brow.

“I already told Qui-Gon and he promised me immunity and while I don’t know for sure what that means, I’m pretty sure it means you’re not allowed to get mad.”

“That’s not what it means.” He said.

“Well, then, who’s got a decent ghost story to share?” He tried, looking around to each of them, “Ventress? I’m sure you’ve got some just by looking in a mirror every day.”

“Anakin…”

“Fine…” He sighed, “I… Might have sort of tried to go give Padmé her Valentine.”

“Of all the foolish and impulsive things to do!” Obi-Wan roared instantly.

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“No I did not!” He snapped, “Do you not realize how incredibly dangerous that was? And the kind of risk you were putting yourself at? What would have happened if he had gotten you? I swear, I know you’re young but you need to think in terms of the long-”

“-Mate, not sure you are in the best position to be giving that lecture today.” Cody said, “Seeing as you also ran right into Maul’s clutches.”

“Yeah, really!” Anakin defended, “I heard all about what you did!”

“To save someone!” Obi-Wan rounded on his friend, “Not to retrieve a pretty trinket for a girl I fancy!”

“Based on your taste that’s a good thing.” Ventress scoffed.

Satine, who was admittedly calmer than Obi-Wan, frowned and looked at Anakin, “What happened?”

“If I’m allowed to continue.” He said pointedly before going on, “I wasn’t actually going to go to Hogsmeade. Believe it or not, I’m not completely stupid.”

“You just said-” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked.

“-Ben, let him finish.” Satine admonished.

“Thank you,” Anakin nodded and the kid really had the nerve to look smug, “I wasn’t going to Hogsmeade, but Rabé was and believe it or not, I get nervous too sometimes. I wasn’t sure I would have the nerve to give it to her in person, so I was going to ask Rabé if she could give it to Padmé for me. So, I used the map to follow her, obviously, and was never going to leave the tunnel system. But then about halfway through, I saw him.”

“Maul?” Cody asked in awe.

“No, the boogeyman. Yes, Maul.” Rex rolled his eyes.

“Seems like the same thing to me,” Ventress yawned, clearly unimpressed, “Seeing as Maul can’t be in two places at once, I would say one of you is lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Anakin asserted and looked to Obi-Wan, “And he’s not either.”

“Rabé didn’t just turn to carbonite on her own.” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin’s eyes widened, “He got Rabé too?”

“What do you mean too?” Satine asked.

“I mean, Tiplee was also frozen in carbonite down in the tunnels. I only managed to get away because I must have caught him off guard. I ran as fast as I could.” He patted his pockets, “Dang! I think I dropped the map in the process. Again.”

“Seriously, no more of those for you.” Satine said.

“Not like it’ll be of much use now that Yoda is closing the tunnels again.” Cody said.

“That’s horrible.” Obi-Wan frowned and stroked his chin thoughtfully, “But I wonder why he wouldn’t have come into the school.”

“He’s afraid of Yoda.” Ventress scowled, “Everyone knows that, but clearly, he’s a fool to be leaving all of these little clues around.”

“There’s got to be a bigger plan at play here.” Satine said.

“Like what? Two Maul’s?” Ventress rolled her eyes, “I could see the creep going after Skywalker as that is clearly his primary intent, but Kenobi? Who would bother to go after someone who cowered at his own shadow at one point?”

The particular incident that Ventress was alluding to happened when they were only five years old, he might add, but even in his head it didn’t pack the same impact that she wanted it to. Instead, Obi-Wan flashed her a disapproving look.

“Rabé is a member of your house.” He pointed out, “I didn’t see you running back to save her.”

“Actually, I didn’t see you at all.” Satine added.

Ventress, nonplussed, rolled her eyes dramatically, “Good to know the two of you are still conjuring nonsense that would rival The Quibbler, but if you must know, I was tutoring in the library.”

“Wait a second,” Obi-Wan allowed some of the blanket to slide off of him when he sat up straighter, trying his best to suppress a shiver that immediately followed. He was grateful that Satine set it back into place, “Don’t tell me you’re Hondo’s tutor.”

Ventress furrowed her brow, “Be wary of the tone, Kenobi. My marks often rival your own.”

She wasn’t wrong. Horrible personality aside, Ventress was an exemplary student. Like him, she sort of had to be, given the reputation their respective families upheld.

“I wasn’t underestimating your intelligence,” He said, because he wasn’t a total fool, “But I never took you for a good samaritan.”

“Surely, he’s paying her.” Satine groaned as she leaned back on her hands.

“I don’t need the money, muggle-born.” She hissed.

“Since when has galleons been his only form of currency?” Satine shrugged, “Everyone has a price, is all I’m saying.”

“Fools,” Ventress shook her head as she walked away, “All of you.”

“Yeah, well, when you turn to stone, it’ll match your heart.” Anakin said and stood up, “I’m going to go apologize to Padmé.”

Obi-Wan watched him sadly as he walked over to where the crestfallen group of usually chipper girls huddled together. At least they were able to comfort each other in this trying time. Obi-Wan looked to Cody and Satine, who were both wearing a considerable amount of concern on their features.

He knew their responsibilities as older students and prefects, alike, were only going to rise as the fear and sense of danger increased. Anakin had nearly come to his end if he hadn’t been so quick on his feet. He supposed those dueling classes did have their uses if implemented properly. As it were, Maul would likely not make the same mistake twice.

***

The atmosphere was much more subdued than most Quidditch mornings. Even Cody found himself sitting quietly across from where Obi-Wan was falling asleep over a plate of pancakes. Ventress was the only one not subdued, she was glaring around at her team, snarling at anyone not paying attention to her. He didn’t think she’d get very far with an attitude like that. As captain, sometimes the best thing you could do was read the mood of your teammates.

Obi-Wan’s head dropped forwards almost landing in the syrup before Satine managed to pull him back without even a glance over. He blinked, looking around like he hadn’t even been aware they were in the Great Hall in the first place.

“Might want to eat something, mate,” Cody suggested, gesturing to his plate that he seemed surprised was loaded even if he had done it himself.

“Right,” He did so without another word. Satine looked fairly volatile this morning, having woken up extremely early for a morning patrol so there wasn’t much conversation for them to be had. He was tired too, having been picking up a few patrols of his own. Palpatine’s accidental sleeping potion may have been an unfortunate idea, but a few extra hands that could take on prefect duties were still welcomed. It’s not like Cody could say no after watching his friends be run ragged.

“You sure you’re going to be awake enough to stay on a broom?” Cody asked as they both watched a piece of pancake fall slowly off his fork. Obi-Wan just nodded looking up with a sigh.

“We’re all tired,” He nodded towards where Koth had passed out at the breakfast table. Aayla and Cin were awake enough to doodle on his face so it maybe wasn’t the entire team, “Hopefully this will make for a short game.”

“Hopefully,” He nodded, but he wasn’t sure he was honest in his statement. Ventress was looking especially poisonous this morning and wouldn’t take anything sitting down, “Maybe we shouldn’t be playing anyways.”

Obi-Wan and Satine both looked at him like he’d just grown a second head and he met their looks with a glare.

“Who are you and what have you done with Cody?” Kenobi squinted at him as if checking to make sure he hadn’t been cursed.

“I think hell must have frozen over,” Satine added with a nod, “I never thought I’d hear Cody Fett, not want anything to do with Quidditch.”

“Hey! Woah!” He shook his head quickly, “I never said that.”

They both raised an eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Even I am not enough of a sports fan to look past the elephant in the room,” He jabbed his fork at them, “Maul’s close and we’re just going to take the whole school outside? Again? Plus, morale is down,” Instead of gesturing to the two obvious examples in front of him, he pointed to Koth, who had just woken up and hadn’t figured out why everyone was laughing at him yet.

“When you put it that way...” Obi-Wan flicked his eyes to the professors, who were desperately trying to keep warm inviting facades. He took a sip of pumpkin juice.

“Why go through all this trouble for such a barbaric game anyways,” Satine glowered, “We need a break from potential violence not more.”

Cody knew explaining the dynamics of Quidditch would not change her mind any so he kept his own thoughts to himself on the matter. He thought of Quidditch as a much needed break most of the time. But it was hard to deny the fact that only a few people would be having a good time today and that wasn’t how he felt a healthy Quidditch environment should be.

The screech of an owl alerted everyone to the arrival of the morning mail. It was always a little hectic, but it didn’t stop them from being able to spot one of their three owls if it chose to show up. The only owl Cody could recognize was a large tawny one. Well manicured and, if memory served, sharp talons. Obi-Wan barely avoided getting his letter dropped on his head, his hand flicked up to catch the falling parchment with deft precision. As most letters from his parents, he was careful to shield it so Satine couldn’t see, something that always had her frustrated despite knowing that it was fair given the nature of these letters.

Obi-Wan read the whole thing in lightning speed, eyebrows furrowing the further he got, although he nodded before swiftly depositing it on the table next to his plate. His owl swooped down again landing on his head causing him to wince.

“Alright message received,” He tried to pick up the pesky owl, but it looked rather indignant to be manhandled. Still because he was gentle and fed him a bit of breakfast, the owl allowed itself to be set on his arm, “Tell them they’re early,” He tried saying it quietly enough so neither of them would hear, unfortunately they were both rather intune to his voice. If an owl could show emotions, which Cody had, up until this moment thought untrue, Obi-Wan’s owl would look almost melancholic for a moment. A hard thing to do for a bird that had permanent angry eyebrows colored into its feathers.

It took off in a hurry, nearly taking off a few heads as it went and disappeared back into the flock it had arrived with.

“What did they say?” Satine asked, as she usually did, but he just shrugged.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” He gave her a smile, but she frowned.

“That never makes me feel better,” She told him sternly. He just shrugged.

There was a loud pop and they all looked up to see Palpatine and Qui-Gon standing at the head of the Great Hall, the two of them would be escorting both teams outside and to the pitch. It was best to have an experienced teacher at the helm and who better than those who had earned their titles as Heads of House.

Obi-Wan stood swiftly, accepting their well wishes and good lucks, before falling into line behind Eeth. Satine was watching them leave with narrowed eyes and Cody wasn’t sure what was going on, but she certainly looked much more focused than earlier. She slid her hand across the table, snatching the note from where he’d left it, clearly for the trash pile, and spread it open.

“Should you do that?” He asked even if he was curious himself, he wasn’t about to get accused of reading other people’s mail.

“It’s a suspicious piece of parchment I found unattended,” She lied as she peered down at it. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as she read it just loud enough for him to hear.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,

As you are about to turn 17, we remind you once again of your duties and expectations. In one year you will turn 18 and we’ll discuss then your future. Despite your best attempts to undermine our plans we will do what we can to work around your failure.

Don’t expect a gift this year, you received one last year and we’ll be happy to give you one when you turn 20. Consider continuing to go to school despite your constant disappointments gift enough.

-Mother”

Cody felt the grip on his fork tighten as he stared a hole through the paper. A correspondence with Obi-Wan’s family really was never pleasant, but did they have to be so outwardly despicable? What surprised him most was the excitement lighting up Satine’s eyes as she read the letter over again.

“Brilliant!” She grinned and he practically snapped his fork in half.

“What’s so brilliant about those two bastards continuing to tighten the noose around his neck?” Cody growled and Satine looked up, having the decency to look aghast.

“Oh heavens no,” She looked sick at the thought, “That’s not what I was referring to at all. How could you think-?”

“-How could I not? Maybe hell is freezing over,” He ran a hand down his face as she rummaged around in her bag before shoving plates and goblets out of the way, nearly toppling a few over. She set down a massive book-like object with a white exterior and silver rings. It was full to the brim with pages and she opened it up excitedly.

“It’s a binder,” She told him at his look before moving on to what must have been the important thing at hand, “You know how Ben’s rather dodgy about his birthday?” Cody nodded, “Well I’ve been tracking him ever since 2nd year,” She flipped around in the binder and Cody could see so many color-coded graphs it made his head spin.

“You did this? For what?”

“If he won’t tell us, I’ll find out on my own,” She glared sternly at a picture of Ben that blinked up at her from the page, “That’s what I told him,” She flipped through it, pointing at various sections, “I was able to surmise that his parents tend to have a letter pattern. They only send him mail on major holidays or if he’s done something they disapprove of.”

“When is that not the case,” He muttered.

“I was able to narrow it down after a few years to February or March,” She was in the back of the book now where a calendar full of crossed out dates sat, “It was confusing, sometimes they sent him a letter end of February like this one,” She waved the letter at him, “Sometimes it was in March. This is the first time I’ve been able to read one,” She grinned proudly tucking the letter into the back pocket for evidence purposes.

“What good does that do? They didn’t say what day it was,” Cody studied the calendar in interest.

“It does a lot of good!” She pulled a fancy highlighter from her bag, “He said they were early, meaning it can’t be any of these dates,” She ran her finger through most of the month. They only had a few days left until March though, maybe she’d figured out the month, “Most importantly!” She looked at him face as serious as it was when she was taking her OWLs, “They said they got him a gift last year-”

“Yeah a ruddy gift,” Cody frowned, “What good is an antique quill if it doesn’t even work?”

“I agree,” She said impatiently, “That’s not the point. They said they’d get him another one when he turned 20. He turned 16 last year-”

“Your point?” Cody was beginning to get lost and would rather she hurry up her point than leave him thinking.

“He doesn’t have a birthday this year at all!” She announced and Cody straightened, staring at her in shock.

“Well that’s not possible!” He declared, “Everyone has a birthday once a year! Even those who don’t care much like Kenobi.”

“It is possible!” She grinned proudly drawing a line on her calendar right between the 28th of February and the 1st of March, “He was born on February 29th! A leap year!”

Cody blinked. That actually made a lot of sense. Kenobi wasn’t a liar and he was sure he’d asked about specific days and been told he was wrong. He’d only seen Kenobi get a birthday present their first year (a pack of gobstones) and their fifth year (the aforementioned broken antique quill). Cody had just figured they wouldn’t ever figure it out unless he told them himself, so he usually just tried to get him a good Christmas present every year. He had noticed Satine had started to give him a present around this time of year, but now they had the exact day.

“Does this mean his parents use that as an excuse to never get him anything?” He frowned and Satine angered instantly.

“I’m almost shocked they haven’t forgotten the date themselves.”

“So,” Cody looked at the little highlighted line indicating the fruition of 5 years of work, “What are we doing about it?”

***

“I still say we should have gone with March 1st,” Cody said from where he was balanced rather precariously on a ladder taping the end of a streamer, “Then we’d be celebrating him having turned 17.”

Satine, who was holding onto the ladder to make sure she didn’t have to take anyone to the hospital wing today, glared up at him, “Absolutely not! He has a February birthday, we’re celebrating it in February. Otherwise he’s going to assume we’ve forgotten it!”

“He doesn’t even know we know it,” Cody rationalized, but came down from the ladder anyways to admire his work with her.

“Alright,” She looked down reading her list. She’d had years to plan this event, he’d never had a party before that she knew of and she wanted it to be perfect, “We’ve got the streamers and the balloons. The guests have been told what time to arrive...” She checked off the boxes as she went, “Can I trust you to go and get the cake without dropping it?” She looked up at her friend and he grinned giving her a thumbs up.

“Oh yeah definitely,” It didn’t instill in her a lot of hope, but he was at least eager to do it.

“Alright go, but hurry!” She checked the time off the clock in the corner. “They’ll be here soon.”

“On it!” He saluted her and raced out the door.

Satine observed her surroundings once more. They’d chosen an empty classroom rather than something elaborate like the Great Hall or too intimate like Qui-Gon’s office. She’d gotten approval, Qui-Gon was to arrive any minute now to supervise. He’d been the only professor she could think of that would understand how important this was to do. She was sure if she’d talked to Windu or even Headmaster Yoda, she’d have gotten shot down before she even began. Qui-Gon knew about Ben’s family though and like her, seemed to want to give him the best experience he could.

There was a spot for the cake on the teacher’s desk as well as plates, utensils, and napkins. The ceiling was practically drowning in streamers of all different colors and balloons were floating around aimlessly. Her and Cody’s presents to him were sitting in a neat pile on a couple of tables pushed together. She hoped he’d get a few more, but hadn’t explicitly said anything on the invitations. It was rather short notice after all.

“You’ve done a wonderful job,” She turned to see Qui-Gon in the doorway. He was holding a colorfully wrapped package which she gratefully took from him placing it on the table next to the other.

“Do you think it’s too much?” The last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm him, but she’d learned over the years it was hard to figure out what would.

“I’m sure we could all do with a little cheeriness,” He said in lieu of answering. Maybe he didn’t know any better than she did.

It didn’t take much more time before the students she’d invited began to arrive. The entirety of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team poured in along with Stass. They’d been a little downtrodden at being beat so terribly by Slytherin, but seemed happy enough to be there. The clones were the next to arrive with Anakin in tow. Anakin proudly added his gift to the stack before going back over to Rex.

Cody arrived again, loudly kicking in the door gingerly holding the cake. It hadn’t gotten squashed which she was thankful for. Behind him was Breha and Bail, both levitating trays of food and a bowl of punch, letting them settle into place on a row of desks.

More prefects appeared as well as a few other students. Hondo had seemed rather pleased to have been invited, but Satine was a little worried about what he had possibly brought as a present. Soon the room was pretty full and Satine shushed everyone as well as she could without shouting.

“Alright I’m going to get Ben,” She announced, “Be ready.”

“Yes ma’am!” The Fett’s all saluted her and the others in the room nodded keeping their chatter to a minimum.

***

Obi-Wan was growing a little concerned. Satine had been the one to ask him to meet her in the library, but she had yet to appear. He’d kept himself occupied with his textbooks, but he was tempted to go out and look for her. It was no sooner than he closed his textbook and stood that she rounded the corner looking rather flustered.

“Sorry I’m late,” She panted as she flipped her hair back and out of her face. It was down today, which was becoming a bit of a rarity and he smiled.

“It’s no trouble,” He said sitting back down, “Was there something in particular you wanted to work on? I’ve already finished my essays, but I can help you with yours.”

“Actually,” She was fidgeting nervously and he gazed up at her in concern, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if we went on a walk first.”

“A walk?” That was an unusual request.

“Yes I- I just think it would be nice, don’t you?” Well, he was hard pressed to deny her anything. Especially something as simple as a walk around the castle.

“Alright,” He agreed, sliding his text book back into his bag. She was scrutinizing him and he looked down to make sure his clothes were straightened, because the last time he’d gotten that look his fly had been undone. Rather embarrassing.

He looked up again, starting in surprise, when he felt a hand in his hair. She gave him an apologetic look as she stepped back.

“Sorry, your hair was messed up,” She told him and he felt his face warm slightly, but she just coughed awkwardly and started walking. He ran to catch up.

He couldn’t help, but to run his own hands through his hair, just to ensure that it wasn’t still a mess, “It’s fine Ben,” She told him as she walked just far enough ahead to force him to follow her path.

“I didn’t think you minded much if it was messy,” He said instead of removing his hands.

“I don’t, I just-” Satine cut herself off with a shake of her head. Obi-Wan was confused, but let his hands finally drop to his sides.

“Well alright?” He wasn’t sure what else to say. She was acting off and he couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe she was upset? But she didn’t look it. Even if she was, the library was perfectly quiet that evening. His heart beat a little faster in his chest as he remembered another time the two of them had been alone, the Christmas party. Did she- were they going to talk about it? He wasn’t sure he knew what to say about such things.

“Ben?” He looked up at his name and she was frowning at him, “Are you alright? You look pale.”

“I’m completely fine,” He confirmed, “Are you?”

“Yes?” Maybe they were both acting a little off this evening.

“Good,” He smiled at her and she returned it easily.

She turned then and walked towards the door of an empty classroom, disappearing inside. What on earth could she want with him in an empty classroom?

He refused to lose her though and quickened his pace until he was pulling the door open only to be assaulted by many loud cheers. It took him a moment to register what they were saying in the first place.

“Happy Birthday!”

His birthday? He blinked, taking in the scene. Many of his close friends were there, his Quidditch team, Anakin, Qui-Gon. All of them were standing there watching him which made him more than a little nervous. The ceiling was decorated in nearly every color of the rainbow and it was complete with balloons. He gripped the strap of his bag, unsure what was expected of him. He certainly had never had a party for himself before.

“Happy Birthday, mate!” Cody appeared in front of him practically dragging him into the room and pushing him towards the professor’s desk. It broke the tension in the room and chatter resumed much to his relief. There were less eyes on him.

“Uhm, thank you,” He managed a smile.

“Look at your cake! We had it made special.”

He looked down in surprise at a white cake decorated with 17 silver candles. Written in delicate blue icing was, “Happy Birthday Obi-Wan!” He’d never had his own birthday cake before, but he’d seen them when Satine or Cody had celebrated theirs. It was kind of them to think of him, he just wished he knew the proper way to respond. The parties he attended usually had scripts to follow and he had never been instructed for one like this.

“It’s chocolate,” Satine’s hand landed right next to his on the desk and he looked up catching her eyes, “I know it’s your favorite.”

“It is,” he agreed almost solemnly.

“Do you like it?” She asked and he nodded quickly, his face heating up, how rude that he hadn’t immediately offered them a thank you.

“Yes of course! I- Thank you,” He told them both seriously, “I’m sorry, I’m just not at all sure how I’m supposed to react.” Satine’s eyes flashed sadly at him for a moment before it was gone and she smiled at him softly, bumping her fingers into his.

“You can react however you’d like,” She assured him, “Yell at me that you hate it for all I care,” He took a step back and nearly tripped over Cody at the insinuation.

“Absolutely not, I’ll treasure it!” He vowed with a stern expression and she laughed a little, it was a sound he quite liked.

“Don’t treasure it too long,” Cody warned him, “Because after we sing to you we’re all going to eat it.”

“Sing?”

Neither of them answered, but he found himself pushed into the professor’s chair and everyone seemed to gather all around him. He felt his face get warm and he hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. Both Cody and Satine were lighting the candles on the cake and right when they were done a rather off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” was sung and shouted at him. There wasn’t much for him to do except sit there and try to look less uncomfortable. When Fives and Echo finally finished drawing out the last “you” Satine told him to make a wish and gestured for him to blow out the candles. It took him two attempts and he wondered if he looked as foolish as he felt.

Soon, however, everyone was preoccupied with their slices of cake and mingling with one another. Obi-Wan had to admit despite his embarrassment of having so many eyes on him, the cake was rather good. It was certainly his favorite kind from the Great Hall and he was quietly delighted when Satine offered him another piece.

“You know today’s not my birthday,” He told Satine as she sat down next to him cutting into her own slice.

“I know,” She smirked, “I know that your birthday isn’t today or tomorrow, but is actually February 29th. Despite what anyone else may say about this though, is that it’s still worth celebrating even if the day won’t appear again for a few more years.”

He blinked at her, shocked. He knew she’d been interested in figuring out his birthday, but he had assumed she’d dropped it by now, “How did you find out?”

“Years of observation,” It wasn’t a helpful answer, but he had to admire her intelligence in getting this far, “So am I right?” She leaned in close to him, her eyes searching his for the answer.

“Yes,” He answered quietly.

“Kenobi!” Hondo nearly knocked him into his cake when he slapped him on the back, “Why have you not shared your birthday with me before! Hondo gives fabulous presents that one would not wish for in their wildest dreams!”

“Ah thank you Hondo,” He peeled Hondo’s arm off his shoulders. He was fairly sure Hondo was correct in his assumption that he definitely wouldn’t have wished for whatever lurked in Hondo’s present in any of his dreams.

“You’re welcome, my friend! Only the best for one of my closest associates,” He winked at him before waltzing away back into the crowd. Obi-Wan watched him go as Satine stifled her laughter.

“I assumed you’d want to open your presents later?” She asked.

“I have presents?” He looked around the room until he spotted them and blanched. There had to be at least 10 sitting there in a pile just for him, “I can’t accept that,” He looked at her with wide eyes and she narrowed her eyes.

“It would be ruder for you to reject them,” He looked between her and the presents. A catch 22.

“I’m not opening Hondo’s in front of anyone,” He decided and she laughed again.

Suddenly there was a loud crash and they both looked up to see Anakin sprawled out on the floor. Obi-Wan’s heart flew into his throat thinking of a similar event at the last party he’d gone to at this school. Before he could run over there though, Anakin was sitting up with a dopey smile on his face. He giggled.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief, but something still didn’t seem right. Anakin had Qui-Gon’s help to stand up, but he wobbled. He looked a little bit like he was drunk, but he doubted Satine or Cody would spike the punch at his birthday party. Cody seemed to have a similar guess because he took a sip of his own punch and frowned.

“Don’t you think,” Anakin giggled so hard he almost fell down again, “Don’t you think that Miraj Scintel is the most beautiful girl you’ve ever met?”

The room went silent.

“She’s really beautiful,” He said again giggling wildly. He tripped and Qui-Gon just barely managed to catch him.

Half the room broke out into laughter, it was a ridiculous sight, but Obi-Wan was more worried about what the cause of this was. Qui-Gon was too and immediately slapped a cookie out of Hondo’s hand.

“Someone’s snuck a love potion in,” Satine said standing up, looking particularly mad.

“Miraj Scintel by the sound of it,” Cin Drallig raised an eyebrow as they all quietly set their food down.

“Must have been after you Kenobi,” Fives pointed out, “After all this is technically your party.”

“Me?” He barely talked to the girl and found her quite detestable, they were as different as they came.

“It’s possible any of you were the target,” Qui-Gon frowned as he picked up Anakin to keep him from getting anywhere.

“Hey put me down! I need to go tell Miraj Scintel that I love her!” Anakin cried, “Rex, do you think she’ll like me back.”

Rex was looking at Anakin as if he were contagious, but he just gave him an awkward nod and a, “Sure mate.”

“I’ll take him to Madam Nema,” He told everyone and gave a steady gaze at Obi-Wan, “He’ll be fine. In the meantime I’m sorry, but it looks like we’ll have to cut this party short.”

Before long the room had thinned out leaving just Obi-Wan, Satine, Cody, and a mess to clean up.

“You don’t have to help, Ben,” Satine said with a sigh as she pulled out her wand, “It’s your birthday after all.”

“And leave you to do all the work? I don’t think so,” He stood beside her as they both pulled the streamers off the ceiling with their wands. Cody made short work of sending all their food back down to the kitchens. The three of them moved the desks back to where they were meant to before collapsing together at a section of desks in the center of the room.

“Who knew a party would be so much work?” Cody complained as he picked a bit of streamer out of his hair.

“I did,” Obi-Wan answered quietly, “I really appreciate the thought, but I’m not sure I like having all the attention on me.”

“The point of a birthday party is just to be around those that love you,” She told him, “Yeah it’s a little embarrassing being sung too or opening presents, but there are some things in life you just have to accept.”

“I’m not sure,” He would really rather not make such a big fuss about something as mundane as the day he was born. Satine gave him a rather scathing look for a moment before sighing deeply and reaching into her bag.

“Do you remember when I was late coming back to school?” She asked them.

“Only every day,” He complained and Cody just nodded. She sized them both up before pulling out her wallet and, as if it was physically painful for her she pulled out a thin white card.

“I was late because I was getting my driver’s license,” She set the card down in front of them, revealing Satine in rather bad lighting. On the right was a list of identifying information and quite interested, Obi-Wan picked it up to look at it.

Cody immediately had broken into a fit of laughter, catching the end of Satine’s fiery glare, “It looks like a mug shot!”

“That’s why I wasn’t too interested in telling anyone!” She snatched the card out of his hands and Obi-Wan just blinked looking over at her.

“What’s wrong with it? You look lovely,” That comment just made Cody laugh harder and earned him Satine’s glare as well.

“It’s a bloody terrible photo!” She shouted shoving the thing far back in her wallet and stashing it back where it belonged, “The point is,” She emphasized, “Sometimes you have to suffer through some embarrassment in life, I doubt having a birthday party is as terrible as having that as an identifying picture.”

“I don’t see what’s so bad about it,” He looked between Cody and Satine. It showcased her hair and although she wasn’t smiling, in it he could see the softness in her eyes.

“You are unbelievable, Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Satine’s face had gone red, “I show you the worst picture of me forced to exist and you still think being sung too is worse?”

“Let’s open presents!” Cody changed the subject quickly, shoving a shoddily wrapped gift into his hands and trying to whisper, “Come on mate, open it! She already has a mugshot, what’s going to stop her from murdering us.”

“Cody!”

[gch1995]

“The people he spent most of his life with used children as combattants”

Not really though… you seem to believe the Jedi have always been soldiers and/or at war, which is not the case at all. Before the war started at the end of AotC, the Jedi have been mainly known as negotiators, helping resolve conflicts via diplomacy on various planets. And padawans learn by accompanying their masters on such missions. Otherwise they stay in the Temple. Their primary function is not to fight and lead armies. They’re called peacekeepers several times in the saga. And they’ve stated that they don’t like being made soldiers because of this war (who lets not forget is orchestrated by Palpatine who actually seeks the Order’s destruction, like, he obviously knew what he was doing by making them participate in it)

By the time of the Rots, they’ve been at war 3 years I believe, which is hardly most of Anakin’s life. He didn’t grow up in a war zone.

I mean, Qui Gonn and Obi Wan were chasing after a Sith to kill in The Phantom Menace, and Qui Gonn and Obi Wan left a defenseless 9 year old Anakin alone in a dangerous area to go fight them. In Attack of the Clones, before the war started they were chasing a criminal to kill to protect the Senator. Sure, it’s true that they weren’t in war until the end of Attack of The Clones, but they were still killing anyone they deemed to be a threat with those lightsabers of theirs on missions, and teaching their padawan, who were often children, to do the same when they brought them along on missions, so kids often saw a lot of violence happening on missions.

Anakin might not have seen the Jedi killing kids personally, but he knew all the recruits in their order were being trained as weapons to fight in war. He knew their lives were seen as expendable “for the greater good.” Even if they weren’t in war his whole time with them, he still went through plenty of trauma with Obi Wan as his padawan and saw plenty of violence.

Sure, he didn’t grow up in an active war zone, but he was still going through hell with other recruits as a kid, and then from his twenties to the end of his life, he was in battle. The Imperial army wasn’t above using children soldiers either. He was still being trained as soldier from his childhood with the other recruits just from being taught how to use a lightsaber to kill enemies alone.

I do get that the Jedi didn’t want to get involved in war, and that was through Palpatine’s manipulations, too. However, you really don’t think Anakin and those other kids went through serious trauma as padawan on those missions and didn’t have their lives endangered, too?

You also have the fact that Anakin had already come from a physically abusive and oppressive environment under Watto as a kid. While it’s up to you how much of it you consider canon, the Jedi were pretty horrible in their training methods with kids in those missions they sent them on alone in the original EU.

Look, I’m not saying that Anakin killing kids was okay at all. Obviously, it was wrong, and he knew it never felt right. He is guilty for doing that, regardless of the compromised agency to safely escape abusive relationships with authority, find healthy support, and his very poor emotional/mental health/stability (PTSD symptoms). He’s not unworthy of punishment for doing that. However, it does make sense that he would learn to justify them as “acceptable” and “necessary” sacrifices to preserve “the greater good” that Sidious told him he was serving, not just because of Sidious’s abuse and grooming of him for subservience to him as a weapon, but because the Jedi Order he grew up in taught him that same “greater good” mentality and exposed him and the other kids around him to violence too.

[procrastinatingfeminist]

Were Luke and Ben set up to fail?

As much as I don't like Kylo Ren, fuckboy extraordinaire, and dislike the whole forced redemption arc for him, I really have to wonder if he - and by extension, Luke, - weren't set up to fail.

Leia entrusts her only child's education into hands of Luke, who grew up in an isolated homestead as an only child, pretty much sheltered by his uncle and aunt out of circumstance, and out of necessity. If not Beru, at least Owen knew who Shmi's son was. Anakin Skywalker was not exactly an unknown figure even before his ascension to Darth Vader, but one of the more notorious Jedi Knights. And when whoever, though probably Obi Wan, gave him Luke - I guarantee he was warned to be circumspect about his nephew's heritage. Add to that the fact that Tatooine still had slavery / indentured servitude in common use even during the days of Old Republic - I doubt very much there was a lot in the way of formal school education. So, whatever friends Luke made, like Biggs etc, were probably few and far between and barely seen inbetween his chores.

Leia had more exposure to proper child rearing and education just by the fact that she grew up on a world where these things were offered at all, though I have no idea how much of it was free or mandatory, because the whole Star Wars universe's economy skews heavily towards capitalist’s wet dream (yes, including slavery. Those motherfuckers would happily bring back slavery and child labor if it meant an extra buck to squeeze out of someone). For all I know, Alderaan could have had a system of privatised schools only. And yet she gives her son into his hands, while she is off on Coruscant making politics happen.

Star Wars universe is a universe of orphans, and it doesn’t matter whether they were thrown away by their parents voluntarily or reluctantly in the kid’s best interests.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge Lei her career, because she is brilliant at it, just like her mother and her stepfather were. And Ben is safer not on the same planet as her, and definitely safer not on Coruscant, because he is a possible bargaining chip. The criticism, that women had been facing since they were allowed to be part of earning workforce, is here the same - either you are a bad mother because you don’t have time for your kid, or you are wasting your talents and squashing your dreams to fulfill a function you might not have particularly wanted anyway. Why have a kid at all, if you aren’t going to invest the time in learning to know him? I would have been much happier if at least Han went with Ben, so that he would have at least one parent he can rely on to be a steady, dependable influence; but as far as I am aware he mostly stayed at Leia’s side, until his wandering feet took him away. And Luke was certainly no Owen Lars.

It was hinted at that Luke wasn't the only teacher in his newly opened... I don't even remember if it was a Jedi temple or a Jedi academy. But if he and his sister were the Jedi's last hope, while so many of the motherfucking Sith survived (even the Emperor, for fucks sake), then realistically they were either not Force users or much worse at it than him.

He has no knowledge of Jedi teaching methods, no experience with children, no other teaching resources aside from what he might have scavenged from temple ruins and as a war veteran I can't help but think that he probably suffered from PTSD. No person who is of clear and rational mind would think that the best solution to keep the Dark Force at bay is to kill your underage nephew because of what he hadn't even done yet.

And while he could get advice from the Force ghosts of his former teachers or his father, I don't know how much he can trust that advice. For one, those Force ghosts clearly demonstrated that they have their own agenda, one that doesn't necessarily has Luke's best interests in mind, when they were still alive. For another, their... morals and methods are iffy at best. Obi-Wan spent how many years on Tatooine, watching out over Luke? And yet the Lars' homestead was completely defenceless, even when one Skywalker already lost her life there; arguably two were lost when Shmi died, because her death was the beginning of Anakin's slide to the Dark Side.

Another point is - the best moment to start teaching Luke in handling the Force was really on the man run to save a princess? Not in all the years before when he was bored out of his skull? On the run from the imperial forces after freeing her? When Obi-Wan knows first-hand that the younglings in the Jedi temples were taught for several years.  But a couple months on a swamp planet, being insulted by a cryptic motherfucker, who is masquerading as a wise old one and it's "Yer a Jedi, Luke!" Even if Owen would have been against the lessons, Obi-Wan was literally known to be able to talk anyone into anything, and he couldn’t have convinced a moisture farmer from a podunk desert planet why letting the son of Darth Vader grow up completely unaware of the pitfalls of the Dark Side might be a grave mistake?

His next teacher outright tells Luke to let his sister die, because that is a loss he is prepared to bear. When he already expects him to invest all his free time and focus for the next several years to training, as if there isn’t a war going on, as if there wasn’t already a whole planet that was eradicated. Luke is not an automaton, he is a human and he needs to feel that there is something worth saving. If everything he had an emotional connection with is gone, what is he supposed to save? (Though, to be fair, we are talking about Jedi here, so they might actually see that as a bonus, that he has no one left he cared about.) And you are telling me that these are the Force ghosts he is supposed to ask for advice when it comes to teaching young children???

I'm not even going to go into the whole thing where Yoda already refused to teach Anakin because he was supposedly too old, but neither Obi-Wan nor Yoda intervened in the twins' education until they were adults - despite their adoptive parents knowing full well whose children they were and that they were more than likely to be Force-sensitive. How does that even make sense???

There was never any other outcome to expect but that one of them was going to fall to the Dark Side, while the other one was completely ineffectual in preventing it, and it's a toss-up which one of them both it would have been. If they had wanted another outcome, they shouldn’t have sat around on their hineys on their respective planets, twiddling their thumbs or claws, to act in the last possible second

[itstimeforstarwars]

I'm here asking about yancackes and the cooking ability of dooku's line because I was to hear your opinions. Please.

I’m so glad you asked!!

Here are my opinions on everyone’s cooking ability and the origins of yancakes it got pretty long:

Yoda--I don’t usually count yoda in a specific lineage bc he’s likely the several-greats-grandmaster of like 60-70% of the Coruscant temple, but he is in fact Dooku’s master so I will include him here. Yoda is an excellent cook--by troll standards. If the Coruscant temple had more trolls and less humans everyone would be begging him for his stew recipe all the time. Unfortunately, most people in the Temple just don’t like his sense of taste, and while they’ll suffer through it out of politeness, it’s not considered “good food” by the majority and it’s practically a rite of passage to have to try and excuse yourself from having stew at Yoda’s.

Dooku--learned to cook out of self-preservation as Yoda’s padawan, and then became good at it because he’s a perfectionist. Dooku has a rather exacting personality, demanding good results from both himself and others whenever he puts his mind to something, so once he decides he’s going to learn to cook, he becomes a very good cook. When he starts out, he’s very much a by-the-book follow-the-recipe guy, but as he learns more about cooking and theory and stuff he begins to experiment more. Going on missions gives him plenty of experience with having to use alternate methods than what a specific recipe will want, and after a while he can pretty feasibly make something edible from whatever’s on hand no matter what planet he’s on because he knows what kinds of stuff goes together and how to cook it so that it doesn’t end up burnt or mushy.

Rael--at first he was just hopelessly lost in the kitchen. Just could not make anything without getting distracted by overthinking the directions and ruining it somehow. Ruined three sets of Dooku’s pans, including the ones that he would consider his favorites if he got attached to such trivial things. Dooku absolutely refused to give up and they kept experimenting with different methods to try and get Rael a little less lost in the kitchen. After several years, Dooku finally came up with his Padawan-Proof Pancake recipe. There’s a little song involved. The ingredients are forgiving enough that even if you undercook or overcook it a bit it’s still delicious. The song is built to keep you on time in the cooking so you don’t over- or under- cook it, but the ingredients forgive you if you lose track of yourself. Once Rael masters the Yancake, he decides that rebelling against your master is cool, actually, and swiftly becomes the exact opposite of everything that Dooku is, and that includes cooking. Even once he’s knighted he can’t help but intentionally be bad at most of the things that Dooku is good at, and anyway he spends most of his adult life living as an advisor in a palace so it’s not like he really needs to know how to cook.

Qui-Gon--theoretically Qui-Gon can cook, but he’s easily distractible, especially when he’s thinking about prophecies or the Force or Tahl or his padawans or or or...so if someone isn’t keeping a close eye on him, he will. burn. everything. Fortunately for Qui-Gon, the Yancake is easy enough (and Dooku had him make it often enough) that it can practically be done on autopilot, especially if you’re humming the song that goes with it. Kitchen timers don’t work on Qui-Gon because either he tunes them out or he forgets what they were for or he mistakes them for a commlink ringer, leaves the kitchen to go find where he left his commlink, and when he finally finds it the space fire alarm is going off. Once he becomes a Knight and a Master he just kind of stops bothering with cooking. After all, there’s food halls at the Temple, there’s ration packs on the ship, and there’s the generosity of his hosts whenever he’s on a mission. The Force will provide.

Komari--she learned the Yancake easily enough, but any small mistake that she would make in the kitchen would infuriate her. After all, it was so easy for her Master, so it shouldn’t be so difficult for her. After one too many eggs cracked hard enough that they splattered everywhere, she decided that cooking was stupid and she’d become a master duelist to impress her Master instead.

Nim--the Yancake was one of the first things Rael taught Nim about. Unfortunately, he didn’t really have the time to teach her to cook even if he was able to.

Feemor--Feemor’s pretty much the only other person in this lineage who can cook. He’s a pretty down-to-earth guy with a sensible head on his shoulders and since he’s Qui-Gon’s first padawan he definitely got a lot of exposure to Dooku because Qui-Gon was constantly worrying that he was messing up as a first-time Master. Dooku was just glad to have one (1) child that doesn’t burn the house down.

Xanatos--learned to cook the Yancake specifically because it was the creation of Master Dooku. Felt that all other cooking was beneath him.

Obi-Wan--was raised on ration bars and the hospitality of others pretty much. Learned how to cook the Yancake because it’s a lineage thing now and Qui-Gon thought it was important for him to know. Didn’t have Dooku in his life until Dooku was a Separatist leader, and obviously you’re not really going to get cooking lessons from the man who spends most of his time trying to kill you. Kind of learned to cook over a campfire during his time on Mandalore but has trouble remembering what exactly he’s supposed to do unless someone else (Satine) is there helping. Tries to learn to cook once he has a padawan of his own but still isn’t very good at it and once caught Bail Organa’s kitchen on fire. Mostly puts things in the space microwave and calls it cooking.

Anakin--can cook three (3) things: Gourmet Roast Bug, Yancakes, and Yoda’s stew. If Yoda didn’t have such misgivings about Anakin’s future and potential darkness, Anakin would be his favorite exclusively because Anakin actually likes Yoda’s cooking. Gourmet Roast Bug was something his mother taught him to make, and he tried to teach Obi-Wan to make it once while they were camping out on a mission. Obi-Wan ended up catching his robes on fire and alerting the enemy to their position.

Ahsoka--has to be supervised cooking not because she’s a danger in the kitchen but because cooking is just really boring to her, and she gets tired of it before she even gets to the turning-the-oven-on part. Unless Rex, Anakin, or Plo can convince her to do it as bonding time she won’t do it. Learned to make Gourmet Roast Bug and Yancakes during missions, but never really had the time or inclination to learn anything else before leaving the Jedi Order. Learns to cook a little better on the run for survival purposes, but mostly lives on ration bars.

[mimi10134]

Fall (A Star Wars OC Story) Chapter One

They say that the worse part about being a Jedi is the continuous witnessing of death and destruction. Or at least that is what my master would tell me and before the death and destruction didn’t bother me. But when I witnessed the death of my own master, I began to finally see the real picture of the Clone Wars.

When the pilot was landed at the Jedi Temple in the metropolitan planet of Coruscant there were dark clouds covering the skies and a small amount of rain was beginning to fall. I sat next to my master’s casket wearing my dark brown cloak with the hood up. I continued to stare at the casket, I had cried nearly the entire trip back and now all I felt was emptiness. The platform of the ship opened to reveal all the members of the Jedi Council, they too had their hoods up.

Stand up, Natalia, I told myself.

Slowly making my way down the platform, I didn’t make eye contact with anyone as I walked into Jedi Temple. Once inside, I parted ways with my old master as his body needed to be prepared for the burial ceremony. Watching the two clones push him down the hall, I felt a presence come over me and a voice.

Remember that death isn’t the end. It is merely the beginning.

It was the voice of my master.

“Natalia,” I heard behind me.

Turning around, I saw that it was Anakin Skywalker. He and I were good friends and often times were told that we could be twins. We wore similar Jedi robes and had the same colored hair but mine was longer and always worn in a braided ponytail. I could always talk to him but today was a day I needed to be alone. Ignoring his words, I walked down the hallway where they took my master. I knew that Anakin would try and follow me.

“Let her be, Anakin,” I heard someone say, “She has a lot to process.”

-------------------------------

The funeral was brief. I, the Jedi Council and several other Jedi stood around to watch the cremation of this once powerful Jedi Master. While Master Shun never wanted a padawan at first, he grew to like me, just as I had grown to like him. In my hands I held his lightsaber and I would hold onto it so long as I was a Jedi. After the ceremony ended and everyone filed out, I decided to retreat to a secret spot in the Temple that I found when I was a youngling. It was in a tower that was toward the back of the building, very few people knew about it and I liked it that way. It was my escape from the never-ending war.

It was a small circular room that had a giant glass window that overlooked Coruscant. Small trinkets laid around and random posters covered the walls. I made this space into my own. Sitting on a cushioned bench, I had my knees to my chest as I watched the falling sun.

What is going to happen to me now, I thought, I don’t know if I can do this without you, Master.

My thoughts soon ended by the door opening. In walked a clone, who was dressed in all white and whose helmet was off to reveal his bald head with small purple tattooed lines on it.

“Hey Nat,” he said, “Thought I would find you up here.”

“I am really not in the mood, Knight,” I said looking back out the window, “I just wanna be alone.”

He let out a sigh, “I’m sorry about what happened, Nat. I can’t imagine what is going through your mind right now. But, know that you have a lot of people who are here to help you.”

“Help me,” I said looking at Knight, “All the council wants to do is stick me with another Master so I can continue my training. They don’t care about my wellbeing. They are expecting me to just get over this.”

Knight placed his helmet down on a nearby table and sat next to me placing a gentle arm around me.

“I care about you,” he said, “I don’t want to see you suffer like this alone. Talk to me.”

I laid my head against Knight’s shoulder and began to cry. With his free arm, he wrapped it around me and hugged me.

“I got you, Nat,” he said, “I’ve got you.”

I knew that this relationship that I had with Knight was wrong and he knew it as well. But we didn’t care because we were in love. It is what happens when you spend a generous amount of time with someone, it is only human. The relationship started about six months ago, Knight was the only person who cared to listen to what I had to say and whenever I was around him, I felt safe. This moment was then ruined by my comm link going off.

I groaned and then answered, “Yes.”

“This is Master Windu. Your presence is requested before the Council.”

I didn’t respond back and simply stood up.

“See,” I said, “Told you that they only care about my training.”

Knight stood up and gave me a small peck on the top of my head before I left the room. Out in the hallway, I noticed all eyes falling on me, whispers began to rise amongst the other padawans and younglings. The girl who lost her master. The girl who had no idea what she was going to do. The girl with no future. Arriving outside the council room, Anakin stood there with Captain Rex.

“Natalia,” Anakin said, “How are you doing?”

I paused for a second, “I am being summoned to appear in front of the council the day that I cremated my master. I could be better.”

Before Anakin could respond, I walked into the council room, with Anakin following behind me. I stood in the center of the room, all the council’s eyes on me.

“Natalia,” Windu began, “Let me start by saying, we are sorry for the passing of your Master. Master Shun was truly a one of a kind Jedi and will be missed greatly.”

I remained silent with my arms crossed.

“There is now the conversation about your training,” Windu said, “While we don’t have a new master set up for you yet. We can provide you with a temporary one. Master Kenobi has offered to take on this task.”

I looked over at Master Kenobi who was smiling at me.

“Glad to know that my training is a task for you all,” I said, “It has even been a day and you are moving on as if this happened last year.”

There was a silence that gripped the air. The kind that was unsettling and one that no one wants to the first to speak in.

“Master Shun would want you to continue your training,” Obi-Wan finally said, “We haven’t forgotten what a wonderful master he was to you and I promise that I will do my best to keep to his teaching methods. He may be gone, Natalia but I assure you he isn’t forgotten.”

I remained silent again. There was no more energy left in me to fight anymore. At least not today.

“Fine,” I said, “Is there something else or can I finally get some sleep?”

“That will be all for now,” Windu said, “Thank you Natalia.”

I gave a slight bow and left the room. When the doors shut behind me, I stayed outside in the hallway and listened in.

“Master Skywalker,” Windu said, “How well do you know Natalia?”

Anakin was silent for a few moments and then said, “Well enough to know that probably assigning her a new master the day that her old master got cremated was not the best move.”

“It is important that a Padawan’s training is uninterrupted,” Windu said, “We shall allow for Natalia to mourn the loss of Master Shun but we also need to ensure that she is still on the path to becoming a Jedi Knight.”

“How considerate of you,” Anakin said sarcastically.

I gave a half smile at the fact that Anakin tried to stick up for me. Only a true friend would do that.

-------------------------------------

Darkness is all that consumed me. No matter where I looked that is what I saw.

Hello, I said as my voice echoed.

I also wasn’t wearing my normal grey and black Jedi robes; they were all white.

Hello, my padawan, a voice said behind her.

Turning around, I saw that is was Master Shun. His kind eyes and slight long grey beard made me smile. I always joked with him that one day I would shave this beard. Too bad that day never came.

Still never got around to shaving it off, I smiled, I miss you.

He smiled and then cocked his head to one side, Do you really though?

The smile disappeared from his face and he began walking toward me. My stance tightened.

If you really cared about me, you would have been there for me. But you weren’t.

No, I said, I tried but I couldn’t.

You left me for death, Natalia he said stopping in front of me, And now you have to live with that burden for the rest of your life.

Suddenly a red blade shot through Master Shun’s chest.

----------------------

I shot up from my sleep to find that I was safe in my room within the Jedi Temple. My face was dripping with sweat and my breathing was fast. After a few moments, I began to calm down and arose from my bed and exited the room. It was early in the morning. Early enough where the hallways in the Temple were quiet and empty. I made my way down the hallway and looked up at the window art that depicted the great Jedi Knights before me. I was always inspired to be like them one day, wanting that glory, that honor. I then entered a small meditation on my left and saw that Master Yoda was there.

“Master Yoda,” I said entering, “I didn’t expect anyone to be up this early.”

“Trouble sleep you are having,” he said opening his eyes.

“Something like,” I said sitting down.

“Bad dreams about you master, hm?”

I shifted in my seat thinking about the dream. It felt so real to me, as if I was witnessing his death all over again.

“I know that we aren’t supposed to form attachments to people,” I began, “I tried to not be too attached to Master Shun and I didn’t think losing him would affect me this much. But every time I think about what happened, I think about ways I could have prevented him from dying. What I could have done differently.”

I sighed and continued, “I don’t know if I can continue down this path without him. While I agree that Master Kenobi is a great teacher, nothing will replace the bond that I had with Master Shun.”

“A hole that will never be filled,” Master Yoda said, “With the Force your master is. With you he is.”

He was right.

“Perhaps discussing what happened could help.”

Here it was. The moment that I was dreading. I knew it would have to be discussed at some point after all I was the only person with Master Shun at the time of his death.

“It was a standard recon mission that went bad,” I began, “We had gotten word that battle droids were spotted on the planet Oria. Some local had reported it. Master Shun knew he should have told the council, but we were in the same sector. So, we decided to just go. To not cause any fear amongst the locals, Master Shun ordered that he and I were just to go down.”

I paused in reflection on that day. I remembered every moment leading up to leaving for Oria with Master Shun.

--------------------

“Natalia,” Master Shun said with a slight British accent, “Are you still with me?”

He and I sat in our individual fighters, flying toward Oria’s surface.

“Sorry Master,” I said shaking my head, “I am here. Just preparing myself for what we might face.”

“Well good,” he said over the comms, “If the Separatist are here, we need to be ready.”

Going through Oria’s atmosphere, the sand and desolate planet came into full view. Oria was known for two things, bounty hunters and unbelievable hot weather. I and Master Shun knew we had to be careful. Landing on the sandy ground, Master Shun was the first to jump out and look out at the horizon.

“Isn’t it nighttime here,” I said walking up to him, “Why is it so hot?”

“Welcome to Oria,” Master Shun said walking, “Come. The location of where the battle droids supposedly are isn’t far from here.”

I followed behind my master as we made our way up and down the sand dunes. The air was quiet, minus the few creatures that lived on this hot dusty rock. Soon, we found ourselves in a dried-up river bed. It was deep, with huge walls of rock and sand on either side of them.

“Hm,” Master Shun said stopping, “Looks like the intel was wrong. We should have been able to see them from here.”

I looked side to side and then shrugged, “Well, I guess that’s that.”

Suddenly I heard the sound of a lightsaber activating behind me.

“Look out,” my master said activating his lightsaber.

He used the Force to push me out of the way of the assassin’s deadly strike. Falling off to the side, I was quick to my feet and soon was engaging in the battle with my master. Wearing all black, the assassin held a double-sided red lightsaber in one hand and a knife in the other, a hood covered their face. This assassin was well trained and always seemed to be one step ahead of Master Shun and myself. We dueled our way out of the canyon and up a cliff. I dodged each blow left and right but was caught off guard by the assassin’s foot which made me stumble backwards and fall over the edge.

“NO,” Master Shun shouted.

Luckily I managed to grab onto a root that was sticking out the side of the cliff, and with the strength I had left in me, I climbed up to the top. When I got there, I saw my master had locked his lightsaber with the assassin’s and was pushing them into the ground.

“MASTER LOOK OUT,” I shouted.

Master Shun looked back at me and then the assassin drove the knife into chest.

“NO,” I shouted jumping up.

Master Shun fell to his side as I jumped in the air with my lightsaber ignited. The assassin then Force-held me in the air and pushed me back, making me hit my head.

--------------------

“When I woke up, Master Shun was dead and the assassin escaped,” I said looking at Master Yoda, “I tried to help. But it was too late. He was gone.”

I looked down at the ground. Trying to hold back the tears.

“Find this assassin we must,” Master Yoda said, “Discuss with the council I will.”

“I want to help,” I said looking up.

“No,” Master Yoda said immediately, “Too emotionally involved you are. Reflect on this you must. Trust the council, you should.”

“But---.”

“A final decision I have made,” Master Yoda said walking out of the room, “Stay here, you must.”

I watched as Master Yoda left the room. When the door shut, I took my Master’s lightsaber off my belt and gripped it tight.

“I will find who did this,” I said, “That is my promise to you.”