#i want Obi-Wan to gently lovingly carefully smile back at him and say not on your life commander

[biscuityskies]

Right lads I believe tumblr has successfully made me a codywan shipper

[xopheliasunflowerx]

Bruised (Obi Wan Kenobi Imagine)

Summary: After the mission on Kiros and the attack of Darts D’Nar, Obi Wan returns home to face you, beaten, bruised and bloody. He comforts you that all will be fine and safe.

Pairing: Obi Wan X Reader

A/N: this imagine is based on The Clone Wars, season 4 episode 11 (Kidnapped). Also sorry for not writing, I’m finally in a good headspace! Also been obsessing over Obi Wan here.

~*~*~

‘My, they’re not going to like this.’ Was the thought Obi Wan had, he knew you’d be devastated to see him like how he is. You always hate seeing him injured, it haunts you. You always fear that one day you’ll lose him during a mission, doesn’t help that you don’t see him as much so every day is a worry and a mystery to you.

As soon as the shuttle landed down on the landing pad in the Republic Craft, landing softly and carefully as possible. Two clones directing the shuttle to landing pointing arrows slowly marking it down. The flames at the exhaust turns fade as then it turns off completely. The soft hum of the space shuttle shutting down lets the passengers know that they have landed.

The hanger door opens, releasing a gust of heavy air pushing its way through the place. The clones exit out of the space shuttle, some holding injured ones some holding dead ones. The great losses haunt some of the clones, but they shall be honoured.

Obi Wan walks out of the shuttle to search for a familiar pair of e/c eyes that he dearly craves. In all honesty all he craved was you, one touch and he’ll be melting away at your grasp. But he didn’t want you to worry about his injuries, all he wants is you.

Once he sets his eyes on yours, it was like he was falling in love again. God, he craved you, not sexually just lovingly. With the touch of your fingers against his own, magic happens, he loved it.

He smiles weakly as you run over towards him, fear hinting your eyes. You cup his cheeks as a small pout reaches towards your pink lips. You move a golden strain of his hair and put it in place. His eyes closed as he snuggles against your soft palm. My he misses your touch.

“Obi...” You whispered, your voice crumbles seeing all the bruises on him. It was horrible. So many cuts and bruises on him, it broke your heart seeing him injured. You remove your hands and look him in the eyes. “To the medic you go.” You ordered as he roll his eyes at you.

He walks away holding his stomach as you look over towards Anakin and Ahsoka. Anger fills Anakin’s blue eyes as he storms away from you, not even acknowledging you. You frown watching him as you turn towards Ahsoka as she crosses her arms.

“He met someone from his past today, let’s say not a good one..” She admits with a small frown. You nod as you then head your way to the medics to find Obi Wan.

~*~*~

You walk through the hallways of the ship, urging to find Obi Wan. You find him with the medical droids as you then lean against the door frame watching him. He then looks up to you with a small smile.

“I can explain.”

“With the amount of cuts and bruises this time, I think you should.” You remark with a small frown.

He sighs as he waves the droids to leave him and you alone. Once they leave the room he looks at you with a small frown.

“I was distracting an enemy, he beaten me up pretty good. But we won.” He explains as you sigh, you walk towards him as you sit down on his bed. You grab his hand gently, looking at the bandages around his hand. It hurt you.

“I hate seeing you injured.” You start, staring at his shirtless body, looking at the purple and blue marks on him. You trace your finger on each one, creating patterns on his chest. He looks down at you with a sigh, he knows you do. “I worry you’ll never make it home to me, my love.” You whisper the last part, sad eyes clouded you, a depressing thought you wonder. Obi Wan gives you a sad smile as he lifts your hand and gently laces his lips against your soft skin, placing kisses.

“My dearest, i worry for you too. When you come home to missions I worry the same exact thought. But I know you’ll be okay, you always will be. And I will always come back to you, my love.” He explains making you show a small smile against your lips. You lean your head onto his, inches from reaching each other’s lips. “I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you too.” You smile as you stare into his crystal eyes. His eyes are full of love all for you and just you alone. “Let’s patch you up.” You say as you pull away from his grasp and stand up. He pouts watching you leave as he watches you grab the bandages and some medicine.

After you finish wrapping him and fixing him up, you lay with him, his arms around yours. Endlessly kissing one another, just enjoying each other’s company. Needless to say you two never get time with each other. But this, this is good enough.

[polishksiezniczka]

By God's Grace | Camerlengo Patrick McKenna x Reader

You believe Patrick, your lover, to be dead after the explosion but are eventually reunited.

Notes: AU—Patrick is the good guy! Angst, romance. Also, I can’t help but get serious Obi-Wan vibes again from this oneshot ?? I am definitely picturing a similar reunion between you and your dashing Jedi lover when he returns to you after a dangerous, far-off mission (minus the Italian, LOL). 1.4K words.

Thank you to the lovely @quiescentcrepuscular for being a phenomenal beta reader!

By the time you learned of the situation, it was too late: the helicopter had taken off, Patrick its doomed pilot. As you watched him ascend higher and higher into the night sky, you nearly became catatonic. You couldn’t bear to witness the man you loved so deeply die alone and afraid while you stood there, completely helpless.

So you ran back to the Swiss Guard’s headquarters, tears blinding your vision. You couldn’t calm down and slowly felt yourself pulled down into a spiral of panic. As you ran, images of Patrick replayed over and over again in your head. Your first meeting. When he reciprocated his feelings for you. Your first kiss. The first—and last—time he told you he loved you. The last time you had been together...

You had rushed to his side with Lt. Chartrand after discovering him lying on the floor of His Holiness’ study, his chest badly burned by the brand.

“Whatever happens, know I’ll always love you,” he had whispered hoarsely, so that only you could hear, his fingers ghosting over your hands as you cleaned and dressed his wounds.

“I know, Patrick. I know,” you replied, your eyes still fixed on his chest as you hushed him gently. “And I will always be here for you.” Your voice dropped to a murmur. “I love you...”

The memory of your distracted nature stained your last moments together—how you wished you could relive those moments again! Shaking your head, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying in vain to shut out the anguish which you now felt, but grief coursed through your body so violently you began to feel physically ill. Your lungs burned from overexertion, exhausted by both your sprinting and crying.

Why hadn’t you done more to comfort him? Why hadn’t you gazed into his beautiful, caring eyes one last time?

You did little to stop the loud sob which escaped your throat, surely drawing the attention of the Swiss Guards at the door to the command center, but you didn’t care about them, nor anyone else for that matter. Your entire world had died with Patrick.

Why had you not told him how much he meant to you? How much you cared for him? Loved him more than life itself?

You collapsed onto a sofa then, weeping bitterly. “Please, Patrick, please forgive me. Please…”

----------

You couldn’t tell how much time had passed when the door beside you burst open.

“...it is truly a miracle, what happened to the camerlengo!” At first you barely registered Olivetti and Commander Richter’s presence until you heard his name. You froze.

“What about the camerlengo?” you cried out, abruptly wrenched from your grief.

“Didn’t you hear? He survived the explosion!” Your heart stopped, barely processing the words coming from Olivetti’s mouth. “Before the bomb detonated, he was able to parachute out of the helicopter. He saved us all! Sia Lode a Dio!” he marveled.

“Where is he?” you demanded frantically. “Where is he?!”

Before Olivetti could even finish his sentence, you were already flying out the door, on your way to the hospital.

----------

You nearly let out a cry of relief upon seeing Patrick. Doctors and nurses fluttered about him, attending to his wounds. He looked so small and fragile in the moment, far from the confident man of God you knew. But that didn’t matter. He was alive. Your beloved. Your Patrick. Alive.

“M-Monsignor!” you exclaimed breathlessly.

His eyes immediately locked with yours, and you saw his heart break. Your eyes were likely still red from crying, tears glistened against your cheeks, and your windswept hair indicated your haste. He stared at you incredulously, afraid that you were merely a hallucination brought on by one of his injuries.

“Miss Y/L/N…?” Even in this state, he remembered his propriety, bringing tears to your eyes.

You needed to pull yourself together, lest you make a scene. You cleared your throat. “Monsignor, I have urgent news from the US Embassy. About the incident.” You gazed at him in earnest, silently begging to speak with him.

He tore his gaze away from you; his eyes darted about, as if deep in thought. Then, he spoke:

“Starò bene. Se ci scusi, sorella.”

You offered your arm to him, which he eagerly slipped into yours, carefully making your way to the hallway with him. Once out of view, he whisked you into an unoccupied room and shut the door.

Your reaction was immediate: you bolted into his arms and held him tightly, burying your face into his neck with a sob. You were careful to brace your weight against him, remembering the angry red marks of the brand which marred his beautiful chest. He held you just as passionately, stroking your hair and tenderly rubbing your back.

Although his scent brought you instant, indescribable comfort, your bawling only intensified. You felt his skin grow warm from your tears and ragged breathing despite his attempts to hush your incoherent babbling with his soothing voice. “Oh darling, shhhh. Please, don’t cry. Shhh…” He leaned back to study your flushed, tear-stained face, his hand coming up to cradle it. “I’m here, I’m here.” He lightly brushed his thumbs over your cheeks to wipe away your tears.

You stared up into his beautiful eyes, bringing your hands to his face in turn, memorizing its angels and curves with your soft fingertips. You felt him lean into your gentle ministrations, his eyes squeezing shut in sheer comfort.

“I thought that I would n-never s-see you again. I th-thought I had lost you f-forever.” You choked back a sob. The shakiness in your voice made it difficult for you to speak coherently as the tears relentlessly streamed down your face.

He clasped his hands over yours. As he slowly revealed his cerulean orbs to you, you noticed the luster of tears. “Never, angelo mio,” he whispered ardently, turning his head to softly kiss your palm. “Never. By God’s grace, I returned to you.”

He kissed you softly then, assuaging your fears; you tasted the saltiness of your tears lingering on his lips. As if to reassure you of his presence, he rested his forehead against yours. You remained like this for several minutes, the peaceful silence interrupted occasionally by your quiet sobs or the soft words of affirmation Patrick whispered against your lips.

You finally leaned back, your eyes immediately filling with tears as they scanned his face. “Y-you’re hurt,” you lamented softly, brushing back the few pieces of hair which had fallen into his face. Angry red gashes and bruises riddled his face and torso, and you longed to kiss each and every one, to hold him until he was no longer in pain. “I’m so sorry...” you whimpered.

As your eyes continued their frantic scan, Patrick brought you back to reality by whispering your name, pleadingly, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Cuore mio…look at me.” Your eyes found his effortlessly as he caressed the nape of your neck, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. “I’m all right. All that matters is you are here, safe, with me.” He smiled then, his eyes crinkling endearingly. “And I would never leave you without saying goodbye.”

You sniffled and let out a soft, choked laugh as you watched his face brighten. “Patrick, my love,” you whispered reverently, “I’d be lost without you.” You paused, cradling his face once again. “I love you more than life itself. Please…I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

His gaze softened as his eyes welled with tears. “Ti amo,” he replied, laying a soft kiss on your cheek. “Ti amo,” he repeated, planting another on your opposite cheek. He looked at you lovingly as he leaned forward. “Ti amo…” he murmured, capturing your lips in his. ¤

Translations

Sia Lode a Dio! = "Praise God!"

Starò bene. Se ci scusi, sorella. = "I'll be okay. If you'll excuse us, sister."

Cuore mio = "my heart"

Ti amo = "I love you"

Taglist: @seraferna @lemairepstuff

[plutos-moons]

okay, so i was bored and started to write a head canon i have had in my head for a long time. It basically revolves around the quote: they made you into a weapon and told you to find piece I found on pinterest (so credit to the creator of that quote.)

Also I am really freaking sad about how they ended Ahsoka and Obi-Wan so I wanted to write a fanfic about the two of them:))

(My first language also isn’t english so feel free to correct my mistakes)

A weapon to achieve peace

She sat down heavily. Her knees pulled up into her chest the young knight breathed for the first time in what seemed like forever. Lightsabers were sprawled out in front of her as was the training droid she had demolished almost completely.

She couldn’t, she couldn’t stop.

Eyes filled with tears Ahsoka stared right ahead. Unseeing. Lost. Confused

She had tried, she had tried so hard to put everything behind, the hurt, the lost, the war – but still, everytime she ended up here: the training room of the jedi temple. Ahsoka wanted to be prepared in case there would be an attack, another war.

She simply couldn’t convince herself that it was over. The war has ended.

The war has ended. At least that was what everyone kept telling her.

“It’s over. We have restored the peace.” Ahsoka remembered her master telling her after the both of them – along with several other jedis – defeated the sith-lord, Darth Sidious, who has been posing as the chancellor himself for a long time.

Still Ahsoka couldn’t stop acting like it hasn’t. She was still awfully aware of her surroundings wherever she went. Counting the different escape routes, as well as people she would have to help in case of an attack. She was never able to sleep more that four hours. The temporal rhythm of war still ticking deeply inside of her. She couldn’t help being jumpy whenever someone or something was too loud. Bombs, shouts and shots still too fresh in her memory to be ignored. And the probably worst of all: she was not able to resist the callings of the training room urging her to fight till exhaustion kicked in. Whether it was deeply within the night, early in the morning or sometime around the day. Ahsoka couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop.

And it angered her, it angered her a lot. After all everyone seemed to handle the end of the war well. Freedom. Happiness. Even love. It was pumping through the force like a flare, full of energy and light.

The freshly knighted jedi swallowed. Why was it so hard? Why wasn’t she able to keep on going like everyone around her?

Unable to keep holding back the tears, she began to sob. Utterly heartbreaking sobs that echoed off the wall of the training room. Ahsoka cried, it was the first time after years and years of holding back her emotions.

She cried for the friends that died, the people she lost, but most importantly she cried for the loss of herself. She was 14 when she was thrown into the battlefield. She was 14 when she lost the bright spark in her eyes everyone has always prided her for, she was 14 when she witnessed death first hand. The bubbly and unbothered teenage girl fading away as was the life in the troopers eyes. She didn’t know his name and they have never spoken even once but he selflessly gave his life for hers.

Years and years passed and all tough Ahsoka never lost her smile, everyone could see how the war changed her. But it wasn’t just the war, it was the people as well, the order expelling her, her best friend framing her, the lost and lonely months in the underworld of coruscant. Everything had worked out in the end, she was back after all and Anakin had full filled his destiny without turning to the dark side. But at what cost? Her innocence has been taken from her, her childhood has been taken from her and still she would never go back and do it differently.

Unaware of the others person having joined her in her crouched down position on the floor, she cried, cried till there were no tears left. Only then she made out a voice talking to her soothingly. Embarrassed for her outburst Ahsoka looked up and stared right into the eyes of her grandmaster. She wanted to say something, wanted to apologize for her behavior but Obi-Wan beat her to it.

“Don’t apologize, Ahsoka, it is quite alright.”

She shook her head. It was not alright, she was a jedi after all. She was supposed to be strong.

“I knew I would be able to find you here,” Obi-Wan kept on going. “I’ve been thinking about talking to you for quite some time, you know? Master Plo, Anakin and I, we wanted to do it together but we were worried you would feel crowded.”

Rather than embarrassment there was confusion all over Ahsoka’s face now.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Her voice was hollow from crying. “But why?” Panic mixed into her voice, she hasn’t done anything wrong after all. Did she?

Obi-Wan who sensed her uneasiness, gently laid his hand onto hers.

“Do not worry, it is nothing bad. We were simply worried about you.” The Jedi-Master smiled at her carefully. “And seeing you here, makes me realize that we were right to be so.”

Ahsoka swallowed and averted her gaze. They were worried about her. That could simply mean that she hadn’t been able to hide her emotions as well a she thought he had. They shouldn’t worry. She didn’t want them to.

“I’m fine.” The togruta managed to get out, before her voice broke.

“You are not, Ahsoka, and that ist alright. We didn’t want to talk to you for our sake, but yours.” Obi-Wan stopped for a moment, giving Ahsoka time to understand his words. Together with the other two Jedis he had agreed to talk to their protégée once one of them decided it was the right time to do so.

He squeezed Ahsoka hand lightly and kept going. “It was different for me as it was for Anakin and Master Plo. We didn’t become a padawan during a war period, let alone the worst war of them all. But you...” Obi-Wan trailed off. Ahsoka nodded understandingly.

“You feel lost, after all war is everything you have ever known since your were little. And Ahsoka, let me tell you this...” The Grandmaster gently took her chin and turned her head towards him. “It is okay. No one can blame you for feeling weird, even wishing there still would be some kind of war. You have those feelings because you feel like war defines you, made you who you are. And it is true, it had a great impact on you, but you can overcome it.” Tears were glistening in Ahsokas eyes. The hopeful words of her grandmaster finding their way into her heart. “It won’t be easy, but nothing ever is. No one expect you to leave everything behind. They ... we made you into a weapon, a weapon to achieve peace but never the less a weapon and now everyone expects you to find peace.“ Obi-Wan looked at Ahsoka almost helplessly, it hurt him to see her like that, feeling like she had no purpose.

“They made warriors out of children, we made warriors out of children and no one ever questioned it. And there is no excuse for that, there never will be, but what it shows us is that even the jedi make mistakes. Even the people who are supposed to make right out of every wrong do the complete opposite from time to time.” Once again Obi-Wan looked at his grand-padawan lovingly, a girl who has found her way into his heart a long time ago. A sister to Anakin, as niece to himself. Attachment never really was his strong suit after all.

“You will be okay Ahsoka, we’re standing behind you every step of the way.” Ahsoka suppressed a small sob and nodded.

“Good, what about-“ The Jedi-Master wasn’t able to end his sentence because suddenly Ahsokas face was pressed into his shoulder, her slim Arms hugging him tightly.

“Thank you, Master.” She whispered quietly her voice thick with emotions. Obi-Wan who has been in this exact position with Anakin a lot of times, wrapped his arms around the young woman as well. “You will never have to thank me for something like that, my grand-padawan.”

[coleroz]

The End

This isn’t the one I posted six sentences of last Sunday, that one still needs plenty of work. Instead here is this. I wanted to put a happier spin on the end of The Last Jedi without actually changing any of the events, but I think I just made myself cry.

“See you around, Kid.”

He said it as a last jab at his nephew, as a last tribute to the man who had been his dearest friend.

As a last farewell to everyone, to the galaxy.

We’ve reached the end.

Luke released his hold on the Force projection of himself with a gasp, and tumbled backwards off the rock he’d been seated on.

Breathing heavily with the exertion he had just put himself through, he carefully clambered back onto the rock.

He could feel it. His strength was fading, almost draining out of his old, well worn body. And he knew he was nearing the end.

Well Skywalker, you came here to die. Now you get your wish.

But…..The sunset….

The sunset was so beautiful….Twin suns….just like then….

Just like then.

And he remembered.

He was a naive young farm boy, staring out to the horizon, watching the suns of Tatooine set. Longing is in his heart, longing for something more than this mundane, simple life. It is something he finds himself unable to describe. A feeling he’s meant to be so much more than a moisture farmer his whole life.

Because this planet is too small.

And his heart is too big.

His heart is a galaxy,

and his soul is lined in stars.

All this he felt and more.

On the day before his life would be changed forever.

Thus you might say all this began with a sunset. How fitting that it should end thus. Time has passed. An adventure has come to an end. The hopeful young farmboy is now the tired old Jedi master.

A quest has come to an end,

And home’s around the bend,

And here you are, my friend.

What could be more right?

Let go.

Can he really leave? There is so much to do, so much to atone for. He still has much left to teach, still plenty of spirit, though he’d believed he’d lost it long ago. He still has so much to give the galaxy.

Let go.

But it was alright now. The suns shone on his tired face. And he knew peace.

Let go.

He let go.

And his spirit passed into the Force.

And so it was.

That Luke Skywalker.

The last Jedi.

Died.

~o0o~

��Whatcha workin’ on, Kid?”

Luke looked up to see his best friend in the doorway of his workroom. “Oh, hey Han. You’re just in time, can you help me with this?”

The former smuggler walked closer to where his friend was messing with his prosthetic limb.

“If you could just hold these two wires?”

Han smirked, which only meant mischief.

“So what you’re saying is…”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t!”

“You-”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Need a hand!”

Luke attacked him with one-handed swats, and Han made to grab his arm, laughing.

“What are you two doing hiding in here?”

Both men paused in their minor tussel to watch their sister and wife stride gracefully into the room. She pretended to look disapprovingly at them, but the obvious smile gave her away.

“Hi Sis.”

“Hello Beautiful. And for your information, we are not ‘hiding’, we’re simply having a guy moment.”

“Oh yes? Can your guy moment wait?” She looked intently at her husband. Han we need to set up an extra room in our apartments.”

Han frowned, confused. “Uh, what for?”

“For the newest member of the family of course. The little one.”

Han blinked.

Luke frowned, then his eyes widened as he understood. He looked quickly at Han, who clearly didn’t get it yet.

“Little one? What little one?”

Leia just smiled at him. Then she glanced down.

Suddenly comprehension seeped into Han’s face, and a slow, huge grin spread over it.

“Really?”

Leia nodded, and Han abruptly scooped her up and spun her around, both of them laughing. Secretly, the idea of being a father was a daunting one for him, but he buried it down for now, instead giving in to his elation. Nothing would ruin this moment.

Grinning, Luke joined them. “Congratulations!”

Leia turned and embraced her beloved brother. “Congratulations to you too, Uncle Luke.”

And they stood, reveling in the moment, smiling.

Because despite all they’d lost, they could smile. And these were happy times.

The early parts of their lives had been spent under the thumb of the Empire, and later fighting in a war. Now, though, the Empire was gone. What was destroyed could be rebuilt. They were well on the way to peace. The galaxy overall was becoming a happier place, and the stars themselves seemed to shine all the brighter for it. It was really as though their lives were just beginning.

Leia sighed. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“Well, in a way, we will. The memories we make now will last the rest of our lives.” Luke said.

Leia’s eyes shone. “And may nothing ever come between us.”

Luke slipped his arm around his twin, and glanced at Han. “Are you kidding? We’re friends for life!”

Han matched Luke’s grin albeit his was a little cockier, and he reached to put his arm around Leia on her other side while he mussed Luke’s hair with the same hand.

“That’s right! Nothing’ll ever come between us!”

Luke smirked at him. “Right, well, something might if you don’t help me with this.” He held up his non-functioning right hand to illustrate his point.

“You mean give you a hand, right?”

“Shut up.”

The trio laughed.

~o0o~

The first thing he was aware of was that he was underwater.

There was no panic however. No instinctive thrashing about. No burning need for fresh oxygen in his lungs, merely the innocent desire to get to the surface of it. A desire he obeyed. He stroked his arms and kicked his legs, and his limbs seemed to grow stronger as he did so. He could see light above him, and he wanted to reach that light. It looked so warm and bright.

He finally broke the surface, sending a swinging spray of water upwards as he did so.

He did not gasp or pant as one might expect, he merely breathed in, then proceeded to brush the water streaming from his face and hair out of his eyes. The water was neither warm nor cold, and impossibly clear, almost like crystal. Clean and sweet tasting. It rippled gently, though there was no wind, and the late afternoon light reflecting off it making it appear as molten glass.

He only then realized he was standing, waist deep despite it being deep enough to swim mere moments ago. He also noted he was naked, but oddly, felt no shame in it.

He glanced around, and glimpsed a beach not too far from him on his left. He trudged through the water towards it, paying no mind to the small waves breaking upon it. The sand was the whitest and softest he’d ever seen. And he’d seen quite a lot of sand. He stood, dripping, and glanced around him again.

“Hello?” The echo bounced off seemingly nothing. Though now that he looked he could dimly make out the shapes of distant mountains, coated in mist?

He’d also vaguely noted his voice sounded a bit younger than he was accustomed to.

Receiving no reply for now, not that he’d really expected one, he took a moment to study himself. He was….young, he decided. And it might be his imagination, but he very gradually seemed to be getting younger still. His body showed nor felt the slightest sign of age, and another interesting thing, he had not a single scar. He felt his right hand and wrist. His hand was not metal, and there was no distinct bump to mark where his prosthetic began. He touched his chin to find there was no beard there at all. He pulled one of his long locks of hair in front of his eyes to find it golden, with no traces of gray.

This was getting more bizarre by the moment. And he knew bizarre.

“Hello.” He said again, louder than before. “Is anyone here?”

Before he realized, two strong-looking arms appeared in front of him, and draped a simple tan-colored robe over his shoulders.

Mystified, though not alarmed, Luke Skywalker turned.

And all last vestiges of age abandoned Luke in that moment, and he was once more a slight young man, a bright-eyed boy, staring up to into look into the face of his beloved father.

Anakin Skywalker.

~o0o~

He looked not a bit as Luke had seen him last, alive that is. Rather, he looked as he’s seen his ghost beside Obi-wan and Yoda on Endor, except now without the blue aura of a Force ghost. He also was young. A little older than he himself now was, he somehow knew. He sported a full head of dark golden hair, darker and curlier than Luke’s. Like him he had no scars visible on his body. He also wore only a simple robe, in a darker hue than the one he’d placed on Luke.

And, he was smiling, fondly, joyfully, lovingly at his only son. That more than anything made him look younger, and at the same time, so old.

Luke didn’t blink or speak for a long time.

Then he felt the tears gather at the corners of his eyes, and then fall. Precious tears, tears he’d been waiting all his life to cry.

“Father!”

And for the very first time, father and son embraced.

Anakin tenderly stroked a hand through his son’s hair, tears in his own eyes. “Luke. My Luke, you’re here at last! I’ve been waiting so long for you.”

Then he held out his hand to Luke. “Come, it’s time to go.”

Luke moved to take it but paused, and looked back out over the water, back from where he had come.

Anakin studied his son sympathetically. “What is it?” He asked, though he knew quite well.

“It’s just….Leia… Han and I are both gone. She’s all alone….again. And Ben, I failed him, he never would have turned if I hadn’t been so arrogant. And...Rey….She came to me for help, for guidance, but I just kept pushing her away. I left her with nothing.”

He shut his eyes tight. “She’s just like I was. Abandoned, alone in a battle against evil with none to show her the way.”

The tears fell freely from his eyes again. “I failed them all. When they needed me most. Han, Leia and I, we abandoned each other! We- we had an unbreakable bond , but we broke it! We-”

“No, Luke.” Anakin broke in on Luke’s rush of words.

“Your bond is unbreakable. You don’t truly believe it’s broken. Stretched or bended maybe, but broken? Never.”

Anakin placed his large hands on either side of his son’s face.

“Luke, look at me. You know, that I know better than any that you cannot change past mistakes. Regret will earn you nothing. You can only move forward from where you are. I’ve had to accept that myself.”

When Luke still refused to meet his gaze, Anakin continued in a lowered tone.

“Ben made his own choices. He had all he needed, but chose to turn his back on it. Destroy it even.”

“Your sister will carry on, just as she always has, and always will until the end. And she is far from alone.”

“And Rey.” He paused and smiled. “She will find her way.” Then he leaned forward and placing his forehead against Luke’s, whispered. “Just as you did.”

This was what caused Luke to finally look up, his blue eyes meeting his father’s, who smirked.

“She’s a lot like you, y’ know.”

That made Luke slowly smile. She really was, so much like he was. She held the kind of hope he used to.

Anakin put out his hand and tilted Luke’s head up, and Luke met his gaze. Anakin spoke deliberately, his next words interlaced with love and strength. Freeing them from his tongue. As if he’d been waiting an eternity to say them.

“I’m proud of you Luke. Know that. I have always been proud.”

Luke stared at him, his mouth parted slightly. The he pressed his lips together, tears flowing even more freely. He just buried his face in his father’s chest, heaving. And Anakin held him for a long time.

It was alright.

That’s the answer.

No matter what. It will be alright.

Anakin drew back, and held out his hand once more. Luke took it without hesitation this time.

“Now come. Everyone’s waiting.”

The legacy of the Skywalkers was at an end.

But the legacy of the Jedi was not.

I will not be the last Jedi.

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