#imagine If he pulled this shit in front of the Jedi council

[gringle-pringle]

Been reading Star Wars Fan fiction lately and I need to share this idea.

Corusant. Between episodes 1 and 2.

Imagine. You’re a newly knighted Jedi about to be debriefed for a mission with your two fellow knights and master Obi-wan Kenobi arrives with a little 13 year old Anakin trailing behind him who looks to have a sour expression over something. So Obi-wan begins to explain the mission to you and your friends.

But as obi-wan begins to gesticulate, talking about the politics and culture of the planet you’re visiting you notice the little golden-haired boy put on a very serious expression and begin to copy his master tit for tat. He ever got the beard stroke down to a science. You try to keep a straight face. You really do. But luckily your friend, Illumna breaks first, snickering. Obi-wan’s brow furrows in confusion, hands on his hips, “is something funny?”

The Padawan furrows his own brows, arms akimbo in a perfect copy and it’s just too funny, you break, bending over with laughter, and suddenly your two friends are cracking up alongside you. Obi-wan looks completely confused, looking around before turning around and staring pointedly at his padawan who stood in model deferential position, a look of pure innocence on his face before his master turned around.

“Anakin.” Obi-wan raised a suspicious eyebrow, “Why are my three jedi knight debrief-ees laughing in hysterics?”

Anakin shrugged, lips pursed, “I haven’t the faintest.”

[phoenixyfriend]

In Which Palpatine Leaves the Door Open

So, @purronronner suggested this on discord:

au where anakin finds out about palpatine during clone wars era like, coming in for a visit and overhears a conversation with Dooku about war planning he’s been pulled between palpatine and the Jedi/obi-wan/various things but I want to see him pulled between palpatine and his men could go either way on the sith part of the reveal even

palpatine is not aware! unless anakin’s course of action is to go “hey palpatine I must have misunderstood something right? :(“

(This was a group effort but there's a thing I wrote that requires this context so please bear with me.)

I'm just imagining Anakin backing out, closing the door, and turning to the Corrie Guard by the door to say a thing... and not finding words.

Eventually "Did you guys know he was evil?" "He's a politician, sir." "But like the evil ranting..." "He's a politician. Sir."

He's willing to use his men to save R2, but that's because R2 was part of the team and helping, not arranging battles to make things worse.

Anakin: Normally, I'd go to Palpatine to talk about my problems, but right now he is the problem... Obi-Wan and Yoda are off-planet.... Anakin, phoning up Padme: Help?

Per @atagotiak we also have some Intense Thoughts

Oh hey. The deception arc. And the subsequent argument that we don't see and stuff. Like there's all the ways you could justify it especially from an opsec standpoint (If Anakin acts like that around Padme why would anyone assume he can keep a secret about anything?) And it was a pretty tactically important thing for the war as far as anyone knew. But just. I've heard some people say that perhaps also Obi-Wan reasoned that hurting Anakin is an ok price to pay to make sure someone Anakin cares for doesn't die for real which seems plausible enough.

Anyways. My point is. Anakin gets a front row seat to sheevception when he actually sorta knows whats going on. Gets sidetracked halfway through yelling and stuff to think about how convoluted this whole mess is.

For more clone-centric things all the times Palpatine's like "I wish I could do more, it's truly regrettable, but..." Would just seem awfully fake now.

Anakin, belatedly: Wait, does this mean that, behind all the layers of bullshit, Palpatine was the one trying to kill Padme at the start of the war???

WHICH IS WHAT LEADS TO A WHOLE LOT OF FUN and yes this is the part I'm sort of proud of.

Okay so: Anakin's a shit liar, yes?

After he meanders over to Padme and has a breakdown, he then goes off to tell the Council about all this. I imagine she goes with him as moral support, and also because she wants to protect him from them calling him out on his legitimately terrible decisions. They're trying to come up with a plan to take Palpatine down without tipping their hands too early, because they need to investigate; for the sake of this plot point, we'll say that Palpatine mentioned a contingency plan while talking to Dooku, even if he didn't directly name the chips.

Someone mentions that Palpatine is going to ask to see Anakin, because he does regularly. And, as experience has shown, there is very little that will stop Palpatine from insisting that Anakin come see him. They can stall for a bit, maybe, but not for long.

"You could send me to the other side of the galaxy," Anakin suggests. "Short notice, so sorry, won't be around for a bit."

They point out that won't work forever.

"So... arrest me, or put me on a mental health hold?" Anakin tries. "Say I got violent at civilians or the clones for no reason and you need to make sure I won't hurt him, and then even if he visits me in the cell, I don't have to act normal 'cause he'll EXPECT me to be upset."

Palpatine presumably has spies all over, so he'd know that hadn't actually happened. Also, Anakin's too important to the war effort for anything short of a cold-blooded murder of an innocent, and they can't just take him off the field without an absolutely massive violation of the Code or his orders.

"Tell him I Fell," Anakin offers.

A Sith Lord would be able to feel that from across the galaxy, if it had happened, especially with the amount of time that he's put into grooming Anakin.

"Oh," Anakin says, and his stomach drops out as he realizes that he can either keep his secrets, or keep people alive.

He thinks about how Palpatine had targeted Padme already, and how if Palpatine thinks Anakin's betrayed him, then he'll probably do that again.

He thinks about 'a Sith Lord would know' and realizes... well.

Anakin values his freedom, but he also values his men, his padawan, his master, his wife... the wife that's in danger if Palpatine knows that Anakin caught him out.

The Order has to keep Anakin away from Palpatine. They need an excuse to arrest him. They need an excuse to hide him away, one that Palpatine won't question too hard.

A Sith Lord would know if Anakin fell. Even if he came back afterwards.

"So... so tell him you found out about the Tusken Massacre."

The what.

"...tell him you found out about the time I actually did Fall," Anakin says, squeezing Padme's hand. She knows. She's the only one who knows, on Coruscant, other than the Sith they're hunting. "On... on Tatooine. You can claim it was an anonymous tip. He already knows about that one. He's one of the only two people outside Tatooine that do. He might not question it."

(He won't question it.)

What did you do, Skywalker.

"I killed... a lot of people. A Tusken tribe. Including the children. Right before the war hit."

----

It's a hell of a way to fall on his figurative sword.

(Mace is... both impressed that Anakin would take the hit to make sure they can handle the Palpatine problem, and horrified about the Massacre, because... who wouldn't be.)

(Mace is unfortunately Anakin's main handler on this project.)

Anakin puts in so much effort, all the time, into not Falling, so it’s surprisingly (terrifyingly!) easy for him to fake a 'near miss' with the Dark just by thinking really hard about things that make him angry. Nobody wants him actually Falling for the ploy if they can help it, but they need to sell the bit, and Anakin's... well. He's Anakin. It's easy to think about his own emotional volatility until any control goes out the window.

He's sacrificing a lot for this mission! It's fine! He's fine!

(Padme, the council is judging you so hard right now.)

Palpatine comes to visit Anakin in prison, and it is very easy for Anakin to disguise his anger as... a different anger. I have a very intense mental image of Anakin working himself up into a frenzy when Palpatine comes to visit, and then at some point in the following conversation he just snaps something about how "you said they were animals who deserved to die."

The Council can even eke it out a bit, make it so they don't want to admit why Anakin's in prison or under a psychiatric hold or whatever they claim it is, so their "I'm hiding something vibes" look like "I'm hiding the fact that one of our most recognizable war heroes just came clean as a mass murderer and we have no idea how to handle it" instead of "I'm hiding that we know you're a Sith Lord and are working to take you down."

Obi-Wan comes back from an off-world mission to find out that Mace arrested his former padawan and Ahsoka hasn't stopped crying for three days because nobody will tell her what's going on.

(The Council decided this couldn't be risked on even an encrypted comm.)

(They maybe tell him soon enough? But also they might treat it like the Hardeen thing and use his reaction as fuel to keep Palpatine convinced.)

SKYGUY GOT ARRESTED AND NOBODY'S EXPLAINING WHY.

Rex is overwhelmed because it's been his job to keep her calm.

Anyway, padawanship has been temporarily transferred to the grandmaster. You were half-training her anyway.

Insert a subplot about Obi-Wan being horrified and betrayed and aiming the feeling at Padme because she knew about the Tuskens and never told.

[crispyjenkins]

Jangobi. After Melida/Daan Obi-wan comes back to the order but qui-gon doesn’t want him anymore so one of the council members jumps at the chance to apprentice him. This leads to him being encouraged to pay attention to his visions and feelings from the force because THEYRE REAL AND YOU SHOULD PROBABLY GIVE THEM SOME ATTENTION OBI-WAN. Obi gets a vision and a feeling that he needs to follow and tells his master. This leads to them finding Jango while he was still a slave and them freeing him.

(*gonna start putting translations up here like i do on ao3*

cw: drug use, cw: non-consentual drug use. basically second-hand highs from working with spice, nothing graphic but is mentioned a few times.)

Mando’a: kad’au — “lightsaber”, used here intentionally in place of jetii’kad, “Jedi’s saber” “Vor’e te Manda” — “Thank the Manda”, with Manda meaning “the collective soul or heaven - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit - also supreme, overarching, guardian-like” (mandoa.org) “Tion’cuy?” — “Who’s that?”, “Who are you?” confrontational urcir’ijaat — “honor duel”, lit. “honor meet” – look me in the eye and tell me the mandalorians don’t settle more than just elections with trials by combat “Tion’ad hukaat’kama?” — “Who’s watching your back?”, “Where’s your backup?” osik — “shit”

 Even completely fucked second-hand on the inch-thick dusting of spice on every surface of the slave transport, Jango knows the kid hadn’t been on Galidraan.

  Wide brown eyes blink at him through the ray shield keeping Jango and six other slaves in the cramped space barely big enough for two of them, and Jango had thought he’d burned through his rage years ago, but seeing the kid with a kad’au held at their side in a reverse grip ignites something in Jango that he’d thought long dead. 

  They’re not dressed like a Jedi, instead decked in spacer’s rags that hang too-loose from lanky limbs that have yet to hit their last growth spurt, and the chain marking them as a padawan is tucked up into a soft blue cap that clashes rather horribly with the little ginger hair that pokes out the front. They look human, but then, so had Jaster; every Jedi Jango has met before had been human as well, though he knows they’re as diverse as Mandalorians.

  “Vor’e te Manda,” the baby Jedi breathes, and Jango is far too high to tell if he had imagined it or not. He had not thanked the Manda in many years.

  He pushes shakily to his feet, needing to lean on the wall until his head stops feeling like it’s going to float away, and the other slaves skitter as far back into the cell as they can. “Tion’cuy?” Jango hisses, four years of venom dripping from the demand (Who are you?), but the baby Jedi just extinguishes their ’kad and hits the panel next to the door to power down the ray shield.

  “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I’m here to rescue you.” They smile at everyone hiding behind Jango’s fury, and take a step back to gesture them out of the room. “If you follow this corridor to the starboard side of the transport, you will find a shuttle waiting with nine other freed prisoners,” they say with an obnoxiously-High Coruscanti accent that was completely imperceptible in their Mando’a. “I will not hold it against you if you take one of the escape pods, but my teacher is waiting on Concordia to reprocess your identities back into Republic systems, and we will do all we can to find and contact your families or peoples, if you so wish.”

  Teacher. Not master. And freed prisoners, not slaves.

  Jango growls under his breath, not trusting this Obi-Wan Kenobi as far as he can throw them, but the promise of freedom hangs heavy in the air, and it only takes a moment for his cellmates to decide the risk is worth it, scrambling and shuffling past Kenobi with murmurs of thanks in four different languages.

  Jango doesn’t move.

  He watches Kenobi’s throat bob nervously, as they make no move to follow their “freed prisoners” down the hall.

  He asks again, “Tion’cuy?”

  “Naas’ad jaon’yc.” No one important. “I was simply in the right place at the right time.”

  Banthashit. “Banthashit,” Jango snarls, and Kenobi has the good sense to actually flinch.

  “Look, I know the last thing you want right now is another Jedi, and if you were to demand urcir’ijaat on behalf of your people, I would accept with honor; but, no offense, in the state you’re in, it wouldn’t be much of a fight.” They hook their ’kad on their belt, and nod to the corridor once again. “Now, as engaging as this conversation is, I believe one of the smugglers was able to get a distress call out before I could stop him, and I would really prefer not to meet whoever picks up the signal.” Raising a single brow expectantly, the child gestures for Jango to follow. The kid’s right, of course, Jango couldn’t fight off a rat at the moment, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

  Growling, Jango shoves off the wall and somehow keeps both his balance and his feet underneath him, out of pure spite for the arm Kenobi offers in support.

-

  He had fully intended to take one of the escape pods and jettison towards Mandallia instead of Concordia, but halfway across the slave transport that seems even smaller than he'd remembered, Kenobi throws out their arm again, this time to stop Jango just before they turn a corner.

  “Oh, that’s not good,” they mutter and barely manage to duck under the blaster rifle swung at them like a bat, and Jango feels himself be shoved down to the floor against the wall.

  Above him, Kenobi ducks away from a hulking human with a rather unfortunate receding hairline, and all at once, the Jedi seems like a completely different person. Something shutters behind their eyes, expression dropping to a blank indifference that’s belied by the warrior’s ease with which they dodge both vibroblade and swinging blaster, dancing backwards down the hall and leading the yelling smuggler away from Jango.

  Dizzied by his sudden drop from standing to sitting, Jango doesn’t try to get back to his feet, instead watching Kenobi play the other human like a particularly ugly hallikset*. They don't even pull out their kad’au, remaining weaponless as they bounce and weave like they have all the time in the world; were Jango not stoned out of his mind, he’d probably be impressed. 

  Then something flips a switch in Kenobi, and without telegraphing a single twitch, they dive forward instead of away, using their whole arm to knock the blaster to the ground. In the same breath, Kenobi rams their head into the other’s chest in a move that would make most Mandalorians proud, relieving the stunned smuggler of his vibroblade before driving their knee into his chest. 

  The smuggler drops with a muffled clang, and Kenobi steps cleanly out of the way to watch him land face-first on the durasteel floor. Kenobi picks up the rifle, discharging the clip onto the ground, and chucks the whole thing through the nearest open door. They leave the smugglers’s body right where it is.

  “Sorry about that,” Kenobi murmurs, coming back to Jango and helping him to his feet. “I must have missed one of the guards near the back.”

  Something about the phrasing unsettles him, but it takes another moment of forced concentration to put his finger on it. “Tion’ad hukaat’kama?”

  Kenobi grimaces. “I’m not fluent in Mando’a.”

  “Who’s watching your back?” Jango growls, getting right up in their space. “Where the fuck is your backup if your master is on Concordia?”

  The kid —who’s really more of a teen, almost a young adult— winces and tries to start herding Jango towards the shuttle again. “I’m here alone,” they say, almost apologetic, “but I can handle myself.”

  “Your magic wizard mentor let you stage a spiceminer slave rescue on your own?” It goes against anything Jaster had taught him about the Jedi, about an apprentice’s master being as close to a buir as the Jedi will allow; not to mention the galaxy-wide understanding that, if you mess with a padawan, make kriffing sure the master’s dead first.

  Yet, Kenobi’s deepening grimace tells Jango all he needs to know.

  “He doesn’t know?”

  “Look, I didn’t have a whole lot of time, alright?!” Done with being patient, Kenobi grabs his arm and starts dragging Jango quickly through the ship. “We got separated and were going to rendezvous, but if I had waited for him, the spicers would have already moved on!” They yank him down one more hall before they reach the promised shuttle, docked directly to one of the transport’s exterior hatches. Out the nearest viewport, there is indeed another ship approaching, but Jango can’t tell if it’s friendly or not.

  Kenobi doesn’t give him time to figure it out, pushing him into the shuttle and immediately closing the boarding hatch behind them. 

  The other slaves stand around the small cargo bay in various states of drugged-up panic, and if Jango is counting correctly, only one had opted to take an escape pod.

  Far more carefully, Kenobi pushes Jango to the nearest bench, and then goes around the room coaxing the rest into seats as well. Even while gentle about it, murmuring words of assurance in as many languages as they know, Kenobi still moves and speaks with urgency — part of Jango wonders if they’re mind-tricking everyone into compliance. 

  He waits until Kenobi has detached from the transport and properly started their course to the nearest planet, a swirl of grays and browns that can only be Concordia, before following the Jedi up to the absolutely tiny cockpit. 

  There’s barely room for the two pilots’ seats, and the ceiling is so low that even Jango's hair brushes the roof, yet Kenobi looks right at home before the wildly overcomplicated controls.

  They say nothing as Jango drops into the other chair, merely glaring sideways at him until they’re a good ways away from the spicers’ transport. 

  “I do ask that you don’t kill me before we get everyone settled,” Kenobi finally sighs, and Jango almost laughs at them: did they think he came up here just to shivv them? 

  “I’m not going to kill you, Kenobi.” At least, not yet. “You knew who I was.”

  Kenobi winces and flips a blinking switch over their head. “I have a Jedi answer for that, and one where you’re less likely to use that vibroblade in your boot. Which would you prefer?”

  Jango considers them for a moment, and he’s certain now that Kenobi is younger than Jango had been on Galidraan, but not by much: they have one of those faces that eternally makes them look younger than they are, but if he’s over twenty standard, Jango is a Kryze.

  “Both. I want both.”

  “Right.” Visibly steeling themself, Kenobi swallows and adjusts their course slightly; wait, when had they gotten away from that second ship? Had Jango imagined it? Then again, he barely knows up from down at the moment, only grounded by Kenobi’s infuriatingly calm presence. “The easy answer is that I saw your name on the freighter’s manifest when it was docked on Mandalore, and recognised it. I’m on an extended mission in Mandalorian space, and, well, my master thought it would be good to catch me up on the recent history, as I had only briefly learned about the Civil War while in the Temple.”

  He’s pretty sure that makes sense, a logical A to B, an almost maddeningly ordinary explanation for the space-blown panic Jango had felt on first seeing them, on first hearing their relief at finding him.

  “And the Jedi answer?” he prompts quietly, fingers twitching at his lack of a weapon.

  They glance at him briefly, at his hands, before facing back forward. “I only knew to check the manifest because I had a Force vision, and I couldn’t knowingly leave you, or any of the others, to this fate. I knew what you looked like not from my lessons, but from what the Force showed me.”

  “What the Force showed you.”

  “Like I said, the first answer is easier.”

  “I’m too high for magic osik.”

  They wince again. “Yes, I suspected. My master has a spice specialist waiting for when we land, if any of you choose to detox immediately. She’s Old Clan, though — um, Vau Clan, I think.” The Vau Clan did not follow Jaster, but they certainly didn’t follow Vizsla either, and were unlikely to have sided with the duchy. Now, why Kenobi found that important...? “We couldn’t find any medics who used to follow Jaster Mereel,” they explain, as if reading his mind. “At least, not on such short notice. Obviously we wouldn’t trust anyone from Death Watch, or the New Mandalorians, or the mercenaries controlling Concordia, not with the Mand’alor.”

  Jango laughs before he can stop himself, but it’s a bitter thing. “I’m not the Mand’alor. I have no people to lead.”

  Kenobi’s frown only deepens as they steer the shuttle into Concordia’s atmosphere. “Perhaps we should discuss this when you’re not spiced burnt.”

  He can’t but agree. “None of this explains how your master knew to arrange all of this, if you hadn’t rendezvoused with him.”

  “Ah, well, I sent him a coded communication before um... finding this shuttle, and he only got back to me while I was searching the cells for you.”

  “You stole this?”

  “Listen, I was on a time crunch! I was going to give it back!”

  Despite his better judgment, Jango lets himself go boneless and laughs, the reality of the situation maybe finally hitting him. The disgruntled pout Kenobi sports as they contact the nearest spaceport only makes him laugh harder.

-

  Master Windu is waiting for them when Obi-Wan lowers the shuttle gangway, along with a flock of medical personnel and an Arconan with a datapad that reeks of Republic Judiciary.

  Everything Obi-Wan had told Jango had been the truth, except that his master had been able to comm him after he had nicked the shuttle and left atmosphere; he’d had no doubt that Windu would come through, of course, even on Obi-Wan’s rather strange and specific request for Dr. Vau, but, well, Obi-Wan still disembarks with the freed slaves expecting a swift dismissal from the Order.

  It’s worth it, he tells himself, watching Vau make a beeline to Jango Fett and knowing he’ll be in good hands. It’s worth it, Obi-Wan repeats to himself on loop as he slides his soft hat from his head and fixes his Korun padawan chain back behind his ear. This is far from the first time Obi-Wan has gone off script, has let his emotions get the better of him and acted against the wishes of a master, but it’s worth it, he tries to convince himself as he meets Master Windu in the middle of the flurry of activity of the hangar.

  He twists his hat in his hands and immediately bends forward into a bow. “I’m sorry, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan says quietly, and means it: how many padawans could say they had disappointed two masters thoroughly enough to be kicked out of the Jedi thrice?

  None, he knows.

  “I acted without thinking, I—”

  “It seemed to me that you acted with quite a bit of thought, padawan,” Master Windu says smoothly, a large hand settling on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Your communication was most thorough.”

  Obi-Wan wets his dry lips and keeps his gaze firmly on his boots. “I know I’m not supposed to lose myself in my feelings, to act as if they are fact, but there wasn’t time, and I—”

  “Obi-Wan.” 

  Snapping his mouth closed, he braces himself for the disappointment, the dismissal, but instead, Windu just sighs, and Obi-Wan only gets concern and apology from their training bond.

  “Obi-Wan, can you look at me?” 

  He tries, he really does, but something seems to lock Obi-Wan in place, terrified of seeing that disappointment on the face of a master he’s only had for two years, after Master Jinn had dropped him.

  Despite his fear, Windu isn’t angry when he doesn’t raise his head. “Padawan, the Force is not trying to catch you in a lie. For all that it tests us and pushes us, it would not show you things —past, present, future, or, yes, just feelings— if it did not deem them important. It is how you act that decides the future, not just what you see in visions.”

  “Mas... Master Jinn always said to focus on the now,” Obi-Wan mumbles, remembering the sorts of mantras he would meditate on while Jinn’s apprentice. 

  Windu hmms. “And, in some facsimile, he was correct. No, let me explain myself,” he says, holding up a hand to halt Obi-Wan’s confused protest. “There is danger in getting lost in visions, Obi-Wan, of focusing so much on the future that one forgets to live in the present; this is what Qui-Gon refers to. As I’m sure you realised, Qui-Gon is exceedingly strong in the Living Force, yes?” Obi-Wan nods hesitantly, and Windu smiles at him. “The philosophies he subscribes to, on top of not being particularly prescient himself, puts awareness of the world around you above all else; you can see why it would be difficult for him to understand how those like you, like myself, could give that awareness up for even a moment.” 

  “But isn’t letting go...”

  His smile turns rueful. “Ah, and now you see the Council’s frustration with him, for all that he is a magnificent Jedi.”

  Shuffling awkwardly, Obi-Wan resists the urge to tug on his padawan chain like he would his braid, and settles for wrapping it loosely around his finger. “You are not upset?”

  “Not with you,” he is quick to confirm. “You saved fifteen people’s lives today, Obi-Wan,” he gestures around them, “and allowed the arrest of several notorious spice runners. Yes, perhaps you acted rashly, but as you said: there was hardly time to hesitate. What matters is that you learn to discern when to act, and when to slow down.”

  “... I shouldn’t ignore them?”

  Windu blinks down at him, surprise quickly smoothing into something too tense to be entirely serene. “Ignore your visions? No more than I should attempt to ignore shatterpoints: the Force would not make us strong in abilities we couldn’t learn to control. I find I must apologise, padawan, I did not realise Qui-Gon... worked with you so little on your prescience; such an oversight is not one you should have had to worry about.”

  Obi-Wan swallows, floundering for words, and absolutely does not know what to do with Windu’s easy acceptance and understanding despite Obi-Wan having spent the last few years hiding his visions and lying about his dreams. 

  “But now is not the time to delve into this, nor worry about how we will move forward.” Unfolding a brown cloth from over his arm, Windu holds out what Obi-Wan realises is his robe, that he had thought lost when he was separated from his master. Windu waits for him to put it on to gently start herding him towards the ship they had first come to Mandalore on, and quietly starts catching Obi-Wan up on all that he had missed.

  He doesn’t know what to make of feeling Jango Fett’s eyes on him from across the hangar; nor the intensity with which they follow him until the ship’s hatch closes behind him.

(this took four iterations to write and i’m still not quite satisfied, but i’m very attached to obi-wan having a chain/beads instead of a braid after Melida/Daan; the lil wish-you-would-write snippet happens a few months before this!

thank you for the prompt and y’all’s patience! obi-wan has brown eyes now because you can’t stop me)

*hallikset a seven-stringed instrument that i think is just legends now. but cal plays one!

[chokemeanakin]

Okay so I was thinking maybe something along the lines of fluffy Anakin coming home from a long mission and just wanting to be held and loved on by his significant other? I was thinking of stuff like running fingers through hair, forehead kisses, gentle caresses and the like please! Thank you love!

Thank you for the request! I had such a good time writing it 🥰 (also I totally wasn’t scream-crying to Miley Cyrus’s ‘Look at You’ the whole time🥴🤫)

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Loving on You - Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader

You had been waiting for Anakin’s arrival all day, excited to see your secret lover after he had been deployed on a mission for two whole weeks. You were in the middle of volunteering to guard the Jedi archives when he returned, and every second you weren’t running toward the star-fighter hangar was a second more that your patience was stretching thin. Jocasta Nu ended up setting you free early, noting the way you were antsily fidgeting and looking towards the windows.

An hour had passed since he arrived, and you were just leaving the archives. He must be finishing up his report to the Council, so you headed that way. Coincidentally, you ran into his master on your way over, almost smacking straight into him.

“Obi-Wan!” you exclaimed, out of breath. “I saw you and Anakin just got back from your mission. Do you know where he is?”

Something was off. The lines in Obi-Wan’s face looked deeper, eyebags more prominent, and the light wasn’t really reaching his eyes. He tilted his head behind him, gesturing to the dorm rooms.

“Unfortunately, you just missed him,” he sighed, “I believe he went looking for you in your room.”

“Are… are you alright?”

Obi-Wan forced a smile onto his face, although you could tell it took effort. “I’m just fine. Although I don’t think I can say the same for Anakin.”

Your blood immediately ran cold. “What happened? Did he get hurt?”

“No, no, he’s not injured. The mission was just… upsetting for him. I’m sure he’ll want to tell you about it.”

You blew out a breath of relief and then put a comforting hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’ll let you get some rest then. See you tomorrow.”

He bowed his head at you and you went your separate ways. As soon as you turned the corner, you bounded down the hallways to your room. Closing the door behind you, excitement grew in your veins as you saw the soft glow of a light on in the living room. He was home.

You walked into the living room, not seeing anyone except for a metal ball floating a couple inches above the couch. Peering over the back, you saw Anakin lying down, floating the decoration around with a hard look on his face. He was still dressed in all of his Jedi gear, not even bothering to take off his boots.

“Hi,” you hugged the back of the couch, smiling down at Anakin with your chin on your hands.

As always, the feeling of seeing his face after so long sent warmth down your spine. There was always that fear, no matter how many times he assured you otherwise, that one of these days he would not come back from a mission. It kept you up on the nights he was too busy to send you a hologram message letting you know he was okay, and you found you had to throw yourself into miscellaneous projects to keep your mind off of worst-case scenarios while he was gone. Staying busy was your only way to cope with the fear... But oh, how sweet it was to know he was here now.

Anakin’s lips twitched into a tiny smile of acknowledgement before it disappeared. “Hi, my love.”

Your face fell. Yeah… Obi-Wan was right. Anakin was upset, and you were gaging that it was a sad kind of upset this time. You were used to his anger and frustration, but you’d be lying if you said his sorrow scared you the most. He could fall to such extreme lows, it was almost impossible for even you to pull him back. It really didn’t help that you were shit at dealing with emotions either.

You bit your lip, looking at the ball he was floating around in the air. “I heard the mission was tough.”

“We were successful,” Anakin huffed lightly and caught the ball in his hand, placing it on the table beside him. “Or at least, the Council seems to think so.”

“What happened?”

He began to pick at thread from the sleeve of his Jedi robe. “We took back the alliance with Lim’Shor. Drove the Separatists away. Dooku escaped before we could intercept his ship… which is typical.”

“So…” you tilted your head. You still weren’t sure what had him in such a forlorn mood.

Anakin played with his hands in his lap, twisting and pulling at the sleeves of his robe. He was frowning, not the usual boy who was usually so full of life and excitement after completing a mission.

“Lim’Shor is in the outer rims. A lawless planet where slavery is common. Even with this alliance… it’s not under Republic rule.” He paused, jaw clenching. “While we could help keep the Separatist’s oppression at bay, there was nothing we could do to help themselves.”

Oh. Fuck.

Anakin was very senstive toward the topic of slavery-- rightfully so. With his troubled past, and what happened to his mother… you couldn’t even imagine the pain and anger it had caused him, and still plagues him to this day. The nightmares, the grief, the unbridled rage. You had seen it all, those terrible side effects of living through such a horrendous practice. It was no small miracle he had turned out to be the kind, golden-hearted man he was today-- and no wonder why he was so upset right now.

You made your way to the front of the couch, pushing the table away so that you could sit on the floor before Anakin. Although he wouldn’t look at you, the guilt swimming in his eyes broke your heart.

“They’re right. There’s nothing you can do-- not yet, at least,” you offered quietly. “With the war going on, you can see why the Council needed you here. But once it’s all over, we can go back. We can free all the slaves, everywhere, just like you’ve always dreamed of doing.”

Anakin finally turned to look at you. There was a sparkle in his eye, and you were afraid it was a tear, but he was also smiling. It was a tiny, weak smile, but it was there.

“I would love nothing more,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his finger. “Come here.”

He scoot over on the couch-- which was actually quite big to begin with-- so that you had room to slide on beside him. You were hesitant to touch him, seeing as how you liked your distance when you were hurting, but Anakin was the one that pulled you into him. He ducked his head and buried himself into your neck, breathing you in.

“We’re going to do it, I swear we will,” Anakin mumbled into your skin. “Every slave out there… we’re going to free them all someday.”

You couldn’t help but tighten your arms around his back, crushing him to your body. You wanted to take his past away, all the hurt he’s experienced, all his tormented memories, and the anguish of losing his mother. Your heart ached for the man in your arms, who always pretended to be so strong for others, but who you knew was secretly crumbling inside. He felt too much, too strongly, all the time. If only you could even take a fraction of that pain away…

“We will,” you vowed, rubbing your hand up and down the space between his shoulder blades. You didn’t think you could say anything else without your voice giving away the emotion building up in your eyes, so you settled for kissing his forehead, long and warm and lingering -- a promise.

You counted Anakin’s breaths as you felt them on your collarbone. Each one, you cherished with your whole being. He was here, he was safe, and he was broken but healing. He was in your arms, and you would do everything in your power to make sure he always made it back there.

You’re pretty sure Anakin fell asleep around breath number 102 or 103. Somewhere along the way, your hand had drifted to play with the soft curls at the base of his neck. He had shivered at the feeling, burying his head deeper into you. Now, his breathing was deep and even, and you thanked whatever Maker was out there that you were lucky enough to have this beautiful man, safe and sleeping in your arms.

*******************************************************

You stayed awake for hours, letting Anakin nap in your embrace before he slowly blinked his eyes opened and peered up at you blearily.

“How long have we been here? You must be so uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m perfect,” you ran your hands through his hair, messing up his curls so that they’d stick out at odd angles.

“Still, I should get off of you and take a shower.”

You didn’t want to let him go, but you got off the couch per his request and accepted the kiss he left on your hand before he left to wash up. You immediately felt cold without his body pressed against yours, already missing his presence.

While you waited for him to get out of the shower, you prepared some tea and jelly toast for him, almost certain he had had nothing to eat in the last week but those little nutrient balls he carried in the compact in his belt. You still didn’t understand how he could stand them.

You walked into your room where Anakin was shirtless, sporting nothing but his loose fitting sleep pants that now hung low on his hips. You tried to stop yourself from staring at his v-line as he ran the towel through his hair, drying it messily before throwing the towel in the hamper. He looked surprised when you handed him the food.

“For me?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I thought you’d be hungry.”

Anakin set the plate of toast on the bedside table so he had a free hand to pull you close to him by your waist. He leaned down so he could kiss you, his lips pillowy and soft and heavenly after not feeling them against yours for so long. It was only meant to be a thank you kiss, but, well, you’ll take the blame this time for getting carried away.

You sighed in relief, melting into his figure as you traced the hard planes of his body with your fingertips. His bare skin was warm under your touch, muscles quivering with each pass of your hand. One day, you would spend hours mapping him out with your mouth. For now, you ran your hands down his chest, exploring the crevices between his abs, dipping into his v-line. He shivered at the feeling, setting the mug of tea down as well before sitting back onto the bed and pulling you with him.

You had no qualms about it. Kissing him was something you would never get tired of. When he pulled back so he could breathe, you continued planting kisses all over his face-- his forehead, cheekbones, nose, chin, jaw. He scrunched his face up and laughed, cupping your face between his hands and pushing you back.

“Miss me much?”

“You have no idea,” you weren’t even ashamed, pushing forward to kiss him again. You decided to deepen the kiss, tongue darting out to tease Anakin’s bottom lip, slipping into his mouth and tasting him for the first time in weeks. Oh God, you were in love. The warmth of him, the smell of him, the taste of him-- your head was filled with him, you were drowning in him. Him, him, him.

You traced his jawline with your fingertips as you slotted your lips with his, smoothing his eyebrow down with your thumb. Even the littlest touches had him turn to jelly in your hands.

Jelly…

You pulled back begrudgingly, his panting breaths on your lips testing your self-control by the second. “As much as I’m enjoying this, you need to eat.”

“I’ll be fast,” Anakin promised, and then got to work. He tried to cheat by giving you half a slice of toast, but you pushed it back and gave him a pointed look.

“Okay, all done,” he finished off the tea and tossed the dishes onto the bedside table again. Then he shifted closer to you, tilting your chin up so he could reach your lips. “Now, where were we?”

[jasontoddiefor]

What are the councils reaction to medical trauma time travel au anakin. Bcs like holy shit. The prophecy kid is fine one moment and then there's silence for three months, and then turns out the prophecy kid lived through a future where the sith won and he got tortured for two decades. Sure, vader completed the prophecy by killing sidious and then dying, but at what cost? Also the sith lord is the goddamn chancellor.

In the wise words of this new chapter from Mace’s POV: Read on AO3!

Mace’s day had gone from bad to worse with an hour of Kenobi-Skywalker-Tano being in vicinity. The trio truly managed to always bring chaos and destruction with them, no matter how polite Obi-Wan smiled or Skywalker managed to distract from it by pointing towards the bigger evil. They had been granted shore leave – and wasn’t it bitter to think of such when they were not supposed to be warriors? – for a week to sort out whatever terrifying discovery they had made, but Mace was beginning to think that it would take longer than that.

Skywalker’s breakdown this morning had been painful. Mace was especially sensitive to emotions running rampant. It was one of the reasons why standing next to the supernova that was Skywalker could be distracting at times. He still had a headache and didn’t want to know what the aftermath would have looked like if Obi-Wan hadn’t been there, pulling risky mind healing techniques he had not been educated in, to keep Skywalker’s shock from putting half the temple to their knees.

It had certainly left its marks on Obi-Wan. While Skywalker was sleeping soundly in the presence of his Padawan, his clone medic and Vokara, Obi-Wan stood in front of the Council, exhaustion running deep.

“Obi-Wan,” Mace started, foregoing all formalities. “What happened to Skywalker? Your reports stated he wasn’t fit for actually standing on the battlefield and providing any kind of back up that isn’t handing out orders, but not this.”

Obi-Wan was struggling to keep his expression neutral, but in the end, his tiredness won out as he sank back into his chair. “I am aware. We miscalculated and didn’t expect him to have such an adverse reaction to being back.”

“You are not making a lot of sense,” Plo Koon spoke up.

“I know, I apologize. We were not planning to start our briefing by talking about Anakin’s condition. He didn’t want to mention it at all, but his medic, Kix, persuaded him. It was not supposed to overshadow other details and I don’t actually know all the details as it falls under doctor-patient-confidentiality.”

Obi-Wan paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think Anakin wants me to know anything beyond what I need to keep him in check.”

He sounded as if he were quoting, taking words Skywalker had bestowed upon him.

Mace could feel coldness rest upon his bones, fear attempt to take a hold of him. Whatever discovery they had made, it must be gruesome that it could break Skywalker so and still have him consider his own tattered mind an afterthought to be dealt with at a later date. He couldn’t even imagine anything that would require keeping Skywalker in-check. He was reckless at times, brash, and his control could be better, but he was an excellent Jedi. Anakin wanted to protect people and his trust, while hard-earned, was easily given.

So what had caused a Knight of his caliber to be in such pain?

“Obi-Wan, what can you tell us?” Shaak Ti asked, her tone reminiscent more of a Master’s talking to their worried Padawan.

“We know the identity of the Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan’s words cut through the air like a sharp blade. For a moment Mace thought he had misheard him, that they couldn’t have just stumbled upon such critical information.

“Sure you are?” Yoda asked, the kind of seriousness you gained only after centuries lingering in his voice.

In moments like these, it was easy to see the strength that upheld the grandmaster of the Order, the fierce protectiveness that guarded them even in times like these and grieved deeply for every life lost when they couldn’t afford to stop on the battlefield.

Obi-Wan let out a bitter laugh, the trembling of his shoulders much closer to the body language of a grieving man on the verge of tears.

“Anakin remembers close to twenty years of torture under Darth Sidious and all his claims make sense. It’s all so clear to me now, we were so blind to all his schemes, waking into a trap.”

“Twenty-years?”

“A vision,” Obi-Wan elaborated, then hesitantly. “Or something similar enough to it. He seems to think of it as time travel.”

“Impossible.”

“That’s what I thought as well, but do you know what else could explain it? He just collapsed in the aftermath of a clean-up and when he woke, he didn’t feel like Anakin anymore. Not the way I knew him to, there was just so much suffering.”

What Mace would remember, even years down the line, was the haunted look on Obi-Wan’s face. For a man who had lost his Master to the first Sith in centuries, slew it and then continued on raising a Padawan and leading a war to show such open horror was downright frightening.

“We need to talk to him right now,” Oppo Rancisis voiced what they all thought. If Skywalker had such critical information, they needed it. They had to end this war as quickly as possible and yet-

“No,” Mace said. All eyes turned to him. None of them were displeased by it, most looked thankful. The war had made it so that they needed to hold back as to avoid giving the Senate, or the Chancellor as it were, even more reason to put the Jedi under direct control. They had to compromise their values, raise an entire generation during wartime all while fighting endless battles without being able to protest against it. Here, in their home at least, they could still execute some measure of control. “Skywalker is hurting and we have not yet fallen so far that we unconditionally sacrifice the wellbeing of our own. Obi-Wan, how much has Skywalker revealed to you?”

From the way Obi-Wan sighed in frustration, Mace suspected that it wasn’t much.

“Only a fraction of what he knows I suspect. He told me of a few critical battles and Separatist strongholds. Mostly, his thoughts have been occupied attempting to figure how quickly he can kill Sidious without the Republic descending into chaos as a result.”

For the months Skywalker had been at least partially out of commission, though Mace wondered how he had been planning any battles at all given this morning’s episode, the 501st and 212th, when not demanded elsewhere, had chosen their destinations rather liberally. Mace had suspected that they had an informant, a man on the inside, as more and more of their campaigns had been successful. The possibility of Skywalker having had a vision of such a magnitude was still unbelievable, but it was entering the realm of possible.

“Why would it descend into chaos?” Shaak asked.

“Because Darth Sidious currently holds all the power,” Obi-Wan spat out, control receding completely and the fiery anger he had been known for as an Initiate showing itself. “He’s the Chancellor. Sheev Palpatine is the Sith Lord and if we don’t take him out soon, he will burn the Republic to the ground to build his Empire.”

And the world cracked, revealing shatterpoints of stunning clarity.

[generallynerdy]

I wonder if he can taste the sadness (Ahsoka Tano & Anakin Skywalker & Rex)

Summary: Ahsoka motions for the younglings to stay behind what little cover she was able to provide as the door wheezes open. She pokes her head out just enough to see and— “Master!” she cries, leaping up. Anakin is at the door, his lightsaber in his hand but unlit. He looks mildly surprised to see her, but takes her hug without hesitation. “Thank the Force,” she breathes out. “We heard blasters and then Master Nu told us to hide. What’s happening?” In her embrace, Anakin is unmoved. She frowns, looking up at him. “Master?”

Warnings: major character death, lightsaber wounds, lots of children die but only one is shown, canon genocide, canon divergence but only to make it sadder Word Count: 1,826

Prompt: Angstpril Day 4 - Betrayal

Author’s Note: WOWWW why do I do this to myself lmfao. I was like ‘oh hey what if Ahsoka was in the Temple during Order 66 would that suck or what’ and then I. Wrote it. For some reason. I’m sick and twisted. Also, not to make you sadder or anything, but can you imagine Obi-Wan finding her body? Shit dude. Anyway, you might think Anakin wouldn’t go to the dark side if the whole Ahsoka thing hadn’t happened, but, like...he already murdered a village of Tuskens before the Clone Wars. I do not doubt that it would’ve happened somehow. I know this is super late but I wanna get all my Angstpril stuff written down no matter how late it is or else I’m gonna feel terrible about it. Title is from My Mother, My Mother by Luther Hughes. (Also, Jinnel, the Kiffar, and her future Master are my ocs. Zett is a canon character but he has barely any appearances so, uh, dibs.)

Read on AO3

*

“Master Nu! I was just looking for you in the archives.”

Ahsoka bears a wide smile as the old Master of the archives turns to her. The young Padawan, though not so young now she thinks, bears a couple of datapads, old ones she’d borrowed before her last assignment.

“Ah, Padawan Tano. Apologies, but I’m a bit occupied at the moment.”

She gestures behind her, where a youngling Clan chatters excitedly. At the sight of Ahsoka, one Nautolan girl lights up and turns to her friend, whispering furiously.

Ahsoka smiles and waves a little, getting a few waves back. “Sorry, Master, I didn’t realise. I can come back later,” she offers.

“That’s quite alright.” Master Nu waves her off. “Just leave it on my desk, and I—”

She stops. Her gaze drifts to the far end of the hallway, but when Ahsoka follows it, she finds nothing there. She’s about to ask what’s wrong, but then she feels it, too: a roil of darkness and fear.

“What is that?” she whispers, unmoving.

The younglings finally notice, a long moment after their seniors, and begin speaking frantically.

“Is the Temple under attack?”

“What do we do, Master Nu?”

“What’s happening?”

“I have to go find my Master!”

With a raised hand, Master Nu silences them all. “Quiet.” Quickly glancing around, she spots a meditation room with an open door. “Quickly, into the meditation room. Padawan Tano, watch our backs.”

“Yes, Master.”

The younglings file into the room obediently, still whispering to one another. One girl, a young Kiffar, bursts into tears, so Ahsoka pulls her aside immediately.

“My Master left to go to the Senate Building,” the Initiate blubbers. “She doesn’t know we’re in danger! I have to find her!”

(She’s too young to have a Master, Ahsoka realises, and doesn’t have a Padawan braid. The Master must’ve found her on a Search and bonded with her.)

“See if you can contact her on your comm, but you need to stay here until we know what’s going on, okay?”

She shakes her head. “I can’t leave her!”

“I understand. My Master is out there somewhere, too,” Ahsoka tries to reassure. “But I can’t let you leave alone, either. As soon as it’s safe, we’ll go find her together.”

The Initiate wipes at her eyes and nods, following the rest of her clan into the meditation room. Ahsoka looks back to Master Nu, who is glancing down the hall with wide, horrified eyes. Something has pulled in the Force.

Someone skids to a stop around the corner.

It’s a young human boy, a Padawan that Ahsoka has seen trailing behind Master Drallig for the last few weeks. On his sleeve, a scorch mark has burned through the fabric to his skin: a blaster wound.

At the sight of Master Nu and Ahsoka, his face twists in relief and he runs toward them.

“Zett,” Master Nu breathes out, taking his arm as soon as he’s close. “What’s going on?”

Through panting breaths, he speaks the impossible. “The clones—the clones are killing us!” he cries. “They got Master Drallig and I can’t find the Council—”

“What?” Ahsoka questions fiercely. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you won’t believe me, but I really saw it! It’s the 501st, they have their armour and everything and they’re killing everybody—!”

Master Nu squeezes his uninjured shoulder. “Breathe, Padawan. I believe you.”

“What!?” Ahsoka turns on her. “They would never—!”

“It may be someone else in that armour, but you know he’s telling the truth, Ahsoka. You can feel it,” she says warningly. “Don’t let emotion cloud your instincts.”

She backs down, but her chest tightens. “Yes, Master,” she says quickly.

“How many of them are there?”

“All of them. Master Drallig—” Zett chokes on his name. “—he told me to go to the landing pad, to get out and find help.”

“I’ll go with you!”

Ahsoka jumps when the young Kiffar reappears, running up to Zett.

“I’m a good tracker,” she says quickly, “and I know where my Master’s going! We can find her!”

Zett looks to Master Nu at the same time she does, uncertainty in his bright eyes. The old archivist casts her gaze to the end of the hall, where the chaos is starting to get louder. With a deep breath, she kneels before the younglings, a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Do not stop, especially for anyone in clone armour. Don’t trust anyone you don’t recognise and whatever you do, do not return to the Temple until you are given the all-clear, do you understand?” When they both nod, she reaches for their hands and presses them together, letting Zett take the girl’s. Master Nu gives him a firm look. “Hold onto each other. Do not let go. This is not a game.”

“Yes, Master,” they say at the same time, equally shaky.

She stands. “Go.”

The pair run off, Zett tugging the Kiffar girl closer to him as they dash down the hall. Ahsoka watches them go, waiting until they’re around the corner to turn her attention back to Master Nu, who has apparently done the same. Before she can speak, the archivist puts a hand on her shoulder as well.

“Stay with the younglings. Lock the door behind you and defend them with your life,” she instructs.

The girl’s eyes widen. “What? You’re leaving?”

“If the Temple is being attacked, there are things I have to do,” is her grim reply. “No one can get their hands on the archives, Padawan, no one. I’ll come find you when I get the chance.”

If I get the chance. The thought is there, though unspoken.

Steeling herself, Ahsoka swallows roughly but nods. “Yes, Master.”

With a glance over the Padawan’s shoulder, Master Nu lowers her voice. “Above all, make sure they make it out.”

“May the Force be with you,” she says quietly, a hope more than a comfort.

Master Nu smiles, a little sad, a little proud. “It is always with us, Ahsoka. It is always with you. Be brave.”

Her words echo in the young Togruta’s mind even as she departs. When she finally pulls herself together, she rushes into the meditation room, counting heads and closing the door behind her. She enters a code to lock it down completely before turning back to her charges.

“I need you all to listen carefully and do exactly as I say, okay?”

There are scattered nods and ‘yes, Padawan Tano’s, so she gives out instructions.

They build barricades throughout the room, providing cover for themselves. Initiates with lightsabers pair up with those without and the latter group gets a few weapons from Ahsoka. Her clone troopers—the ones killing Jedi—gave her quite a few vibroblades and pocket blasters over the years and she’s kept them all. It’s more than a little useful right now, she thinks as she hands them to the younglings.

“Keep your heads down and trust in the Force,” Ahsoka orders, ducking behind a gathering of meditation chairs and tables with three Initiates. She places a hand on the shoulder of the youngest, a small Mirialan with teary eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”

Footsteps thunder from the hallway outside. The younglings fall silent in an instant, poised for battle.

Something catches in Ahsoka’s chest. They’re ready for this. They’re children and terrified but they’re ready for a fight. Is this what her Master used to feel when he looked at her, 14 standard and standing on the front lines? Like something was desperately wrong with this picture?

“The scanners indicate life forms in this room, sir.”

Ahsoka freezes.

It sounds like a clone, though she can't place who. Could Zett have been right? Are the clones—the 501st, of all battalions—turning against them? What in the Force would make them do that? Something here is horribly, horribly wrong.

There's some beeping on the other side of the wall and someone out there must have the codes, because the door starts to slide open.

Ahsoka motions for the younglings to stay behind what little cover she was able to provide as the door wheezes open. She pokes her head out just enough to see and—

“Master!” she cries, leaping up.

Anakin is at the door, his lightsaber in his hand but unlit. He looks mildly surprised to see her, but takes her hug without hesitation.

“Thank the Force,” she breathes out. “We heard blasters and then Master Nu told us to hide. What’s happening?”

In her embrace, Anakin is unmoved.

She frowns, looking up at him. “Master?”

Light washes over her, the stark blue of his lightsaber being lit. She glances down to get a look at where he’s pointing it, what he could possibly be defending her from in a room of younglings. But then pain strikes her abdomen, squeezing her lungs. A choked gasp drags itself from her lips and she finally sees it.

The saber in her chest. Anakin’s saber in her chest.

A youngling screams and blaster fire echoes throughout the room, but Ahsoka can’t see what happens. She can’t even cry out for the Initiates she was meant to protect. All she can do is look back up at him.

His expression is blank, untouched by her apparent agony. He stares down at her with those yellow eyes—

Yellow eyes?

Her mouth falls open a little, her legs wobbling. She loses her balance, falling into him. And he catches her. There isn’t any sort of purpose to the movement, but he catches her.

He has yellow eyes.

Ahsoka thinks of Dooku, of his last moments spent glaring at her and her Master, those burning yellow eyes. She thinks of his red lightsaber fitting perfectly into Anakin’s hand and how nauseous she’d become at the sight.

“Anakin?”

It’s weak, hardly there. She doesn’t even know if he hears it.

And then she’s falling, falling to the floor. He drops her, lets her crumble underneath him, unable to hold herself up.

He walks away.

Breathing raggedly, Ahsoka wants to reach out, wants to grab the bottom of his robe before he can leave her. But her hands won’t cooperate, her entire body screaming at the scorched wound she bears.

The meditation room has fallen silent, leaving the troopers to follow after Anakin. They start to leave, but one notices she’s still breathing, still trying to move.

He lifts his blaster and she finally sees him.

“Rex,” she breathes out.

The jaig eyes on his helmet, carefully painted, give him away instantly. He lifts his pistols and she wants to cry. She doesn’t have the strength for even that. But she doesn’t need any strength to see that his hands are shaking. Ahsoka will never know what’s going on in his head, what’s driving him to lift his blasters in her direction. All she knows is that his hands are shaking.

“It’s okay, Rex,” she says, sounding far from it. “It’s okay.”

He fires.

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Reblogs are better than likes and deeply appreciated!

If you tag this as an Ahsoka ship, I will block you so fast.

Masterlist

[karasu-hieis-dragon]

PEACE AND CHAOS

Sith Kenobi and my Jedi OC Kyrhyraeth Scath. Kyra has been fighting her feelings for Obi Wan Kenobi for years. She would never allow herself to give in because her loyalty to the Order is too strong.

Or so she thought.

I am marking this Explicit NSFW 18+ because of smut in later chapters and cussing.

Sith Kenobi is a gentleman, he will never take what he wants from Kyra. Permission is hot. I will beat a mother fucker with another mother fucker who says otherwise. There is a small amount of man handling though so if that is a trigger please keep scrolling.

Peace and Chaos Chapt. 1

The heavy rain was falling onto the city streets from the dark Coruscant sky, the drops slamming onto the ground, hitting your ears like echoes of ancient chants from a time long gone. She stood out in the storm letting the rhythm of the water pour onto her cloak, she imagined this is what it felt like having fingers strumming across an instrument. She was used to the cold rain, it always made her feel renewed, it was never a bother, in fact it made her feel powerful. As a child she would crave the storms that would rage outside, it calmed her mind when the water would hit her bedroom window, it was like music to her ears. No, the rain never did bother her, what did though was the dark red tendrils that were weaving their way into her Force signature. The swirling red vortex mixing with hers, it was never unsettling and if she was being honest it felt like home.

Bastard.

She knew who it was, she knew what he wanted and no amount of closing herself off helped. He knew her too well he always knew how to get in, he always could but she would always let him in no matter what. They were just children when they met at the Jedi Temple, both ripped from their homes - or at least that is how they felt at the time – brought in at the age of ten to train to become Jedi. Trained to be peacekeepers only to be thrown into a war neither wanted to fight in. She will never forget the day they met, they were just children, but their bond was instant.

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The first day of Jedi training for the young Force Sensitives was with Master Yoda, the Younglings were brought into a big room and told to have a seat on the floor. She held off sitting so she could look around the room at all the Younglings to see who she may want to sit next to and the moment she saw him she knew she wanted to sit next to him. All the other kids were already sitting up front and center talking to each other eager to learn how to become a Jedi. But not him, no, he was alone in the corner as if he was trying to hide, focused looking at his hands folded on his lap. He looked scared and it made her sad, there was something pushing her to meet him, a tugging inside of her soul that told her this was the right thing to do. So, without any more hesitation she walked over and sat down by his side. She felt as if she was home. When she took her place next to him, he looked over at her and just smiled, even back then his smile was warm, and it called to her. Looking at her with those eyes so blue they looked like the storms she loved to watch through her bedroom window back home.

She reached her hand out to him and asked his name, he surprisingly didn’t hesitate he just moved his hand out slowly and shook her hand. It must have taken every ounce of confidence he could gather to respond “I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi” whispered in a shy voice. His face lit up though when she repeated his name back to him “Obi-Wan Kenobi. That’s a neat name.” He didn’t let her hand go he just kept slowly shaking her hand up and down and after what felt like a lifetime he finally sputtered out “W - what’s um, what’s you – your name?” Without missing a beat, she said “I am Kyrhyraeth Scath but you can call me Kyra” followed by a little giggle. From that moment on the two were inseparable.

She liked to tell herself the reason they had bonded so quickly was because she had punched another Youngling across the face for him, but she knew better than that. At lunch that first day a Bantha of a kid came up and stole his dessert right from his tray, Kyra didn’t even think twice, she just walked up to the kid, hauled off and punched him. She came bouncing back with his dessert in hand leaving the Youngling behind her bleeding and crying.

It left Obi-Wan totally speechless.

Looking back though she realized it was the balance between her and Obi-Wan. Where Kyra saw a chaotic storm in his eyes, Obi-Wan saw a calming peace in hers. It was almost tragic but they both found solace in each other.

They were drawn to each other’s energy.

Balance.

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Kyra was trying to remain strong; she knew it was wrong to go see him but like a moth to the flame...

If the Jedi Council knew she was in contact with him there would be repercussions and she could not allow that to happen. She thought the rain would help drowned him out, but it seemed to only make it worse. The red tendrils wove their way into her head, swirling and mixing with her purple Force signature. Purple. Of all the kyber colors that could have chosen her, she gets purple. Both light and dark power. Rare. Obi-Wan had tried to comfort her the day they built their lightsabers but it was futile, it was supposed to be a day to celebrate but all she could think about was that she would be susceptible to the Dark Side.

In a way, her younger self was right.

You know you are going to come see me you always do.

Maker, Kenobi, why are you doing this?

Last name basis now? I am crushed.

Fuck off.

Only if you’re the one I’m fucking.

Where are you?

You know.

And just as quickly as he had invaded Kyra’s head, he left it just as fast, knowing it would drive her crazy.

And it did.

He knew every kriffing button to push and she fell for it every fucking time. She allowed it, she craved it. She needed his chaos.

Soaking wet, standing outside his door like a lost loth cat, dripping wet and cold. Cursing at herself for always falling for his shit.

If the Council knew…

But she didn’t have a chance to finish her thought, the door abruptly opened cutting it off. Of course, he knew she was out there, kriffing Force bond. He leaned against the door frame in the cockiest fashion looking very much like a Sith Lord. Dressed in all black, black fitted tunic, loose pants and red belt draped around his waist perfectly.

Maker, Why does he have to look so handsome? Those tortured amber eyes that replaced the beautiful cerulean hue, they still sparkled every time they saw her and she wasn’t sure how that was possible.

“It’s because you make me happy.”

“Shut up.”

“Your feelings betray your tone, little one.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you Sith bastard.”

“Again, your feelings betray you.”

She tried storming past him to get inside and out of the rain, knocking into his arm hard as she tried to push by. Before she could get even a step past him, he had reached out grabbing her arm, slamming her back against the wall. He pinned her hands back with the Force then using his right hand he grabbed her chin making her look up to have direct eye contact with him. Kyra looked at him with defiance, she knew he would never hurt her, so she stood her ground. This only made it worse, he loved when she didn’t take his shit.

“Let me fucking go, Kenobi”

“Say my real name.”

Bending down slightly he brought his lips to her ear and with a low growl he whispered.

“My Sith name.”

Kyra tensed up, he could feel it in his bones, and he relished in it.

“That is NOT your real name Obi-Wan and I would rather you kill me than even whisper that filthy name.”

“You wound me.” Tsking low into her ear. “Do you find me so barbaric that you think I would ever kill you? Besides, Kyrhyraeth if I kill you how would I ever make you…” He took in a deep breath then exhaled right next to her ear. “…scream my name.”

It took all of Kyra’s strength not to collapse, feeling the burn swirling in her stomach and the pooling between her legs that wasn’t rainwater.

“Oooh, you like that thought.”

Obi-Wan pulled back, snaking his calloused hand across Kyra's cheek then gently grabbed a handful of her wet hair. He was mere inches from her face – Stars, why does he have to smell so good? His warm body pressed against hers, amber eyes lit with the flames from the candles he had burning in the room, lips twisted in a sensual smirk. He knew she wasn’t going to budge; she never gave into him when it came to intimacy but that didn’t stop him from trying. He knew she craved him so he was relentless but Kyra never wavered, the Order was too important to her.

He has never met another person like her, she was a perfect storm. Defiant but loyal. Strong but caring. Dedicated but so fucking reckless. She was perfection.

He looked down at her wet, dripping form and he couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was pinned to the wall by him. Her drenched flaming red hair was sticking to her pale, freckled face, those fierce blue eyes staring up at him with all the strength she could conjure yet - there was something else there, there always was.

They were filled with love.

Love for him, a Sith Lord and no matter how hard she tried to hide it; he knew she loved him. Just like he loved her except he would never try and hide that from her. Ever.

Fuck her Jedi Code.

Her lips were closed into a tight perse, eyes narrowed now shooting daggers at him. He loved it, he loved that he caused her to react this way, he thrived off it just as much as she did, but he would never cross a line she didn’t invite him to cross. He was a Sith, yes but he will always respect her, she was his universe, he would never take his anger and hate out on her. She deserved better than that, she deserved better than what the Jedi Council offered her as well.

She saw his eyes soften, and his face relax. As hard as she tried to put on a good act she knew he saw right through her, so many times almost caving, before he became a Sith and after, neither were easy to say no to and right now was proving to be no different. He was so close, his eyes pleading with hers, all she had to do was give him the hint of an approval and his lips would come crashing down on hers. She needed to push those type of thoughts aside though, she was already giving a big fuck you to the Order by forming this kriffing attachment to a Sith she will be damn if she makes it worse.

“Please let me go, Obi-Wan”

Kyra felt his Force grip and hand grip loosen, hands dropping to his sides in mock defeat, but his eyes never left hers. He finally allowed her to walk past him, he had a fire lit so it warm in his apartment and it felt really good. She was freezing in her wet clothes.

Without a word he turned on his heel and walked into his bedroom, returning a few minutes later with one of his long sleeve shirts, a pair of pajama pants and a towel, all of them black.

“Here, as much as I love seeing you disheveled, you’re going to get sick if you stay in those wet rags” He smirked at his jab towards the Order for their choice of robes they made the Jedi wear.

She knew he wasn’t going to let up so she grabbed the dry clothes out of his hands and headed to the refresher. She looked at herself in the mirror, hair tangled, face flush and her robes a wrinkled wet mess. She didn’t understand his attraction to her, he could have any woman he wanted in the galaxy but he always came to her. Then the memories started to flood her brain, it had been the worst fucking year of her life. They had fought the night before he left on his mission to protect the Duchess of Mandalore. He begged her to let her dedication to the Jedi Order go, he was so worried he wouldn’t make it back alive and he wanted to have what could have been their last night together to be special.

But she denied him, he poured his heart out to her, and she fucking denied him. Not only that, she had lied to herself. He was everything to her and she let him leave not knowing if she would ever see him again. She let him leave thinking she didn’t want him. It was the biggest regret of her life because she did love him but she refused to tell him. He loved her but she broke him. Then much to her distain he allowed the Duchess to put him back together. Kyra was all he ever fucking wanted.

Until Satine.

Tears started to roll down her cheeks.

Kyra took a deep breath cursing herself as she removed her lightsaber, focusing on the cold, black metal in her hand. Putting it down on the sink she got undressed and stepped into the shower turning the water on to the hottest setting letting the water pour over her. Get yourself together for fucks sake. She grabbed his soap and it smelled distinctively like Obi-Wan. Gods, why does he have to smell so good? Spicy, woodsy and….Maker, why does he do this to me? Kriff, how the hells am I still a Jedi?

She finished washing her body and hair then she just stayed there letting the hot water run out before she allowed herself to get out. After drying off she slipped into his shirt and pajama pants, throwing her hair up in the towel. When she walked back out to the living room she noticed he had put out some cheeses, meats, crackers and a fresh pot of tea. He was standing facing the fire, fists balled up she could feel his unease. Kyra sat down on his overly plush sofa and poured them both some tea trying to ignore the tension, then he finally spoke.

“She didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Are we really going to do this right now?”

He still wouldn’t face her, she knew it was because he was ashamed.

“It doesn’t matter Obi-Wan, you owe me nothing. You were protecting her and were on the run for a year. Shared trauma. I don’t blame you.”

“I know it still hurts you.”

“A lot still hurts me.”

He finally turned around, eyes solemn.

“You’re a terrible Sith, you know that?” She teased.

“Only when I’m around you.”

Smiling weakly he walked over to taking a seat next to her on the sofa.

“You know, while we are on the subject the same could be said about you, Jedi.”

“I like you better when you’re a dick.” Kyra smiled weakly.

You both sat there in silence, sipping tea, enjoying the delicious treats he had put out for the two of you. Though comfortable there was still the underlining tension of so many things not said. As many times as Kyra had agreed to see him this is the first-time things had escalated this way. It was usually quick meetings to have kaf and catch up and torture each other but this time it was different, and she couldn’t figure out why. Suddenly the silence was deafening. Before she realized what she was doing and before she could stop herself, she blurted out a question that she instantly wished she could take back.

“Did you love her?”

Silence.

Fuck it, I have taken it this far and the damage is done.

“I asked you a question.”

Silence again, he just sat there looking at his hands on his lap, like he did the first day she met him.

“Answer. Me.”

He let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes.

“Yes, but not the way you are thinking. Yes, I cared for her as a friend but that was as far as the love went. I would never allow myself. She was just a pawn to get back at you for hurting me.”

He opened his eyes to look at Kyra who was sitting there with tears streaming down her face. Suddenly there was rage behind her eyes, as many times as he has pushed her, he has never seen her allow that emotion to take over her. Even in the worst of battles she was composed. No, his little Jedi was at her breaking point and it made him tense.

Shit.

The next words she spoke were strangled as she fought to control her emotions.

“Did. You. Fuck. Her?” She stated through gritted teeth.

There it is, she finally allowed herself to let go enough to ask the question that has been plaguing her since you came back alive and stupidly told her about Satine. Obi-Wan had instantly regretted it not realizing she would harbor the pain for so long.

At the time he just wanted her to hurt like he did. Not realizing she had been hurting just as bad choosing the Jedi Code over him.

Maker, Kenobi, you’re a fucking idiot.

He was finally snapped out of his stupor by her yelling, seeing her hands curled into fists, shaking.

“YOU SITH ASSHOLE, ANSWER MY QUESTION!”

Obi-Wan turned to look her in the eyes, relieved he was finally able to tell her the truth. He gripped her shoulders; he could feel how hard she was shaking trying to control her anger and it pained him. So much of her time requires her to remain calm and not show emotions such as fear and anger. She was allowing herself to let go and it was intense. He raised his hands to cup her face using his thumbs to wipe the tears away. Her eyes were pleading with his to just answer the question.

“No, I didn’t.” He exhaled the breath he was holding, raggedly.

Then he saw a change in her eyes, the rage and pain turned to relief and something else he couldn’t identify.

Then she was crashing her lips into his.

All the pain melted away as soon as her lips touched his, she finally felt so free.

Fuck the Jedi Code.

Than you for reading please let me know if you want to be tagged for future chapters.

[stonefreeak]

Hello everyone! I hope you’re all doing alright in these times. If not, I hope that maybe this can at least be a bit of cheering up. Er... that I’m updating, I mean.

When Obi-Wan gets the comm message from Anakin, asking to meet, he immediately checks with Blast regarding his schedule. No doubt is Anakin upset regarding Palpatine's arrest and needs support.

Which, of course, Obi-Wan will take time out of his busy schedule for Anakin. Anything else would be unthinkable. 

He makes sure his schedule is freed up for the rest of the day and then he sends Anakin an affirmation. Obi-Wan would have prefered to have this conversation in the Temple, at home, but Anakin’s message was urgent enough that Obi-Wan doesn’t want to cause any unnecessary delays.

He can only imagine how hard this must be for Anakin, after all. He’s always looked up to and trusted Palpatine implicitly. Regardless of Obi-Wan’s feelings regarding Palpatine in particular, he knows it’s hard to have your trust betrayed.

When Anakin finally arrives in Obi-Wan's office, he's pale faced and the Force around him roils with anger and sadness.

Obi-Wan suppresses a wince at the uncomfortable feeling. Perhaps he can lead Anakin through some meditation to help him deal with it, but he cannot be sure. Anakin has always been rather private about his meditation, uncomfortable with doing it in front of others. Obi-Wan has always tried to be respectful of that, even when he's wanted to make sure that Anakin is managing well, but as Anakin’s grown older Obi-Wan has had to accept his independence and trust his words that his meditation goes well.

One of the hardest things for a teacher is learning to let go.

Until you do... you can never become a master. Learning to let your student go, letting them choose their own path, is an important step in becoming a Jedi Master. Only very rarely does anyone receive the title without having taken a Padawan for that exact reason. For most, the act of letting your Padawan go is the first time you’re ever truly faced with such a decision.

"Obi-Wan! Have you seen the news?" Anakin goes straight to the point, as always.

Obi-Wan smothers the smile that wants to break out on his face at his friend's predictability—he's well aware that it would not be well received right now.

"I have. Come, sit." Obi-Wan takes a seat on the sofa and pats the spot next to him. Anakin may want to pace, but Obi-Wan has always harboured the suspicion that rather than expend energy, it only makes Anakin twist himself into knots of increasing frustration and manic energy. If he can just help Anakin calm down, this conversation is no doubt going to go far better than otherwise.

“How are you, Anakin?” Obi-Wan knows that the answer may be quite obvious judging by how Anakin feels in the Force, like rolling thunder clouds spewing lightning everywhere, but he’d much rather ask than presume. Better to let Anakin use his own words—especially as he may not even be here to talk about this in particular.

“Angry. I’m… so angry.” Anakin’s face twists up in a snarl as he speaks, but he does take the offered seat, hands clenching in his trouser legs. 

Obi-Wan lays a careful hand on his shoulder, but says nothing. Best to let Anakin get his thoughts sorted out properly and verbally expressed before Obi-Wan gets involved.

“I can’t believe they’re going to pull Mr Palpatine in front of a jury on corruption charges. It’s ridiculous!”

Obi-Wan hides a wince at those words. It’s… not ridiculous. Not at all. But Anakin doesn’t know just how not-ridiculous it is, because Obi-Wan has not had the strength or courage to explain it to him yet.

He’s let his fears of Anakin’s reaction hold him back, but he’s simply not certain if Anakin is ready to hear it.

Anakin idolises Palpatine in a way that seems neither healthy nor… earned, really. It makes Obi-Wan uncomfortable, and in his attempts to not drive Anakin away, he’s tamped down on his own unease around Palpatine.

He’s always been very careful of how he speaks of Palpatine, and he wonders now if that has been a mistake. If he’d been more frank about his unease while Anakin was still a child…

The past cannot be changed, and Obi-Wan must live with and accept the choices he’s made. Perhaps being more frank about Palpatine—regardless of how uncertain Obi-Wan was in his position as Jedi Knight in comparison to the most powerful man in the Republic—would have helped give Anakin a clearer view of the man… But there’s no saying whether or not it wouldn’t have the opposite effect, and instead drive Anakin away from Obi-Wan and the Jedi.

Anakin has had his doubts, but he’s always come back to the path of the Jedi in the end. Obi-Wan wouldn’t have wanted to sow hurt and mistrust, doubt and shame, when it wasn’t necessary. So he’s been careful, especially as he’s never truly had the ability to stop Palpatine from gaining access to Anakin. There’s never been anything odd during the visits he’s supervised, and many of them happened while Obi-Wan was not even on Coruscant in the first place.

What has been, has been. What has been done, has been done. Obi-Wan has to live with it as it is now. And if the fallout is grave, then he must be prepared to deal with it.

“I’m sure the investigators have good reasons for what they’re doing,” he says gently, eyeing Anakin closely.

Anakin whose mouth drops open and whose face drains of blood.

“How can you say that?” Anakin snarls. “They’re pulling a man who’s given everything for the Republic, who put off his retirement from a high-stress and high-pressure position due to public support in front of a jury on made-up charges!”

Obi-Wan flinches back. Made-up? Why in all the Core Worlds does Anakin think that whatever charges that will be brought up against Palpatine are made up?

He flounders, uncertain how to voice his thoughts in a way that will not make Anakin angrier or even worse: defensive.

“I… Anakin. There are Jedi taking part in the investigation, they wouldn’t—” He’s not allowed to finish his sentence before Anakin cuts him off.

“Hah! They don’t trust politicians either, just like you and the Council, most likely. So if some other part of the investigation fakes evidence, they won’t question it! I’m sure of it.”

Obi-Wan stares at Anakin in horror. Where are these horrific thoughts coming from? Obi-Wan knows Anakin has always tended to keep himself separate from his peer group, and his close friends have always been few. But to actively distrust his community members to this point...?

How badly has Obi-Wan failed to help him integrate into the Jedi culture if he cannot imagine them taking their jobs seriously and working to look beyond their biases in a situation as critical as the investigation of the former Chancellor of the Galactic Republic…?

“You truly believe that your fellow Jedi would let their supposed biases blind them so completely that they wouldn’t be diligent in an investigation of this much importance? That they would allow for the investigation to proceed in bad faith?”

Anakin blinks, stops, and starts rubbing his forehead as if it’s hurting.

“Yes. No… I don’t… No. No, I don’t.” He sighs explosively and grips his hair with both hands. “I’m just frustrated, I suppose. I know Palpatine isn’t corrupt, and it just feels like they’re pulling him into court for something really small, or something made up.”

Obi-Wan sighs, partly in relief though his disquiet remains.

“For your sake, Anakin, I hope that there is nothing to find, that what I found was just coincidences.” However… Obi-Wan is almost entirely certain that it was not. There are just too many coincidences for it to seem real. The notes on the missions leading to the investigation into Jedi missions which has borne fruit, Obi-Wan’s findings that started the investigation into Mas Amedda and Palpatine which has led to so many arrests already.

Surely it cannot be a coincidence. All of it… it must be connected somehow. Somehow this all leads back to the Sith Lord, and Obi-Wan is becoming more certain that Palpatine is being manipulated by him. At best. 

He cannot help but fear that Palpatine is not so much manipulated as an active collaborator.

Judging by the twisted grimace on Anakin’s face, however, that is a thought Obi-Wan should keep to himself for the time being. Best to lead him into this slowly rather than overwhelm him. If he ends up doing something inadvisable in a fit of emotion… The fallout could be too terrible to contemplate.

~~~~

Anakin had… had almost forgotten that Obi-Wan started this whole investigation. Of course, he isn’t sympathetic to Anakin right now. He probably thinks this is what Palpatine deserves, or some bantha shit like that.

“You started this.” He doesn’t mean to say it, but the words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them. None of this would have happened if Obi-Wan had just let it be a regular power handover. But he didn't, he decided to go after Palpatine, accuse him of things...

"You started this whole thing," Anakin whispers again, staring at Obi-Wan. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't..."

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan both looks and sounds horrified. "I did my duty. I saw things that did not add up, and I reported it. If I had kept quiet about it... If I had done nothing, looked the other way... Anakin, that is precisely how corruption flourishes. How evil flourishes. By everyone else looking the other way and doing nothing."

Evil? Did... Did Obi-Wan just call Palpatine evil? Palpatine who's been by Anakin's side since childhood?

"How dare you!" he roars, taking some pleasure in watching Obi-Wan flinch backwards.

"Anakin, please, calm down." Obi-Wan raises his hands, a gesture of peace and proof of no ill intentions. Typical Obi-Wan, always so calm and bloody reasonable. As if he’s never had an upset emotion in his entire damn life.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but Anakin is beyond listening now. He flies to his feet, rage is flaring up inside him so hot he cannot breathe past it; with every exhalation it pours out of him in a stream of angry words.

"I should have known you carry a grudge against him! That's all this is, isn't it? You're angry that he was there for me when you couldn't be!"

Obi-Wan rears backwards again, as if slapped in the face, but Anakin refuses to back down. He's not going to let Obi-Wan's feelings derail this argument. It's too important for that!

"Palpatine is trustworthy! He's done so much for the Republic, and you and the Council just refuse to see it!" he snarls. "It all just comes down to your dislike and distrust of politicians, doesn't it?"

"Anakin, please, that's not it! You don't understand," Obi-Wan pleads, hands in the air, spread and reaching, but he stays back, doesn't move closer to Anakin. Like he’s afraid.

Good.

"If you're so wrapped up in your dislike of politicians that you can't trust him, can't you at least trust me when I say he's trustworthy? He's been there for me for over a decade, Obi-Wan. I know I can trust him!" Anakin‘s heart pounds in his chest and he can feel his own pulse in his neck, heavy and wild.

He stares at Obi-Wan, hopes so much that he will just... See what Anakin sees. Understand that Palpatine is not the enemy, he's a good politician, one of the few of them. Anakin is sure of it. This whole corruption investigation will come away with nothing and Obi-Wan will feel foolish then. Yeah, it's going to trial, but Anakin just knows it's going to prove Palpatine innocent. Who knows what will happen with Mas Amedda, but Palpatine will surely be fine. If only Obi-Wan could see that!

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan's voice is heavy and he can't meet Anakin's eyes.

Anakin's heart drops to his stomach and his chest aches. No. No. Things were going so well, they were mending the gap... and now... Obi-Wan just refuses to...

Oh.

"You don't trust me." The truth of it is like a lightsaber through the chest.

Obi-Wan doesn't trust him.

"Anakin! What are you saying? Of course I—!" Obi-Wan begins, but Anakin cuts him off again, can’t bear to hear him try to lie his way out of this conversation.

"No. You care, I have felt in the Force how much you care about me, I'm not stupid so I know that's true... But just because you care about me doesn't mean you trust me." He tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. He wishes it wasn't true, he does, but he knows it is.

"That's not—Anakin, please, that's not tru—!"

"It is! You don't trust me! The Council doesn't either!" His rage keeps building in his chest, and he can feel a headache coming on with how hard his pulse is beating. "But it doesn't matter right now. I want to know why you refuse to trust Palpatine. You trust Bail, don't you?" He has to make Obi-Wan see that his position regarding Palpatine is ridiculous. How can he distrust Palpatine simply because he's a politician if he trusts other politicians?

"I do, but Anakin—!"

"And you trust Padmé!"

The briefest of hesitations.

Anakin's heart plummets.

"I d—!"

"You don't trust Padmé either." It feels like a betrayal. A complete and utter betrayal. Anakin's chest hurts. How can Obi-Wan distrust Padmé? Anakin has to know. It's like he's woken up in an upside-down galaxy where everything is just a horrible farce of what it should be; so very very wrong. "Why? You brought her in on the investigation regarding Jedi missions. Why would you do that if you don't trust her? That makes no sense, Obi-Wan!"

"I did trust her, Anakin. Even so that is not the point. Regardless of whether I trust you, her, Bail, Senator Ha'han-ash, Senator Chuchi or anyone else has no bearing what so ever on whether or not I trust Palpatine. I have my reasons, Anakin, it's not just... Anakin?" Obi-Wan steps closer.

Anakin can't listen to him anymore. His mind has centred on one thing and it's all he can think of.

"Did."

"Pardon?" Obi-Wan sounds baffled.

"Did. Not do. You did trust her." Anakin stares at Obi-Wan, his stomach is fit to boiling with anger and upset and soon he can't bear to even look at his friend anymore. His eyes fall away.

"Anakin..."

"I can't do this right now, Obi-Wan. I just... I need space. Come back to me once you've got your head on straight so you're actually capable of trusting people again. I cannot believe you, I just... No."

He turns on his heel and stalks out of the room, ignoring Obi-Wan calling for him.

He can't stand to even look at him anymore.

How could he?

Everything was... Everything was...

How could he?

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

[ghostwriterofthemachine]

Purest Expression of Grief {haj dai}

Order 66 happens.

Cal goes quiet, Kanan thinks too much, and Ahsoka can never go back.

(Or; three children and a dying language, after they've seen their people die.) (AO3 link!)

Cal knows the Empire can track people when they use the Force. He hears it whispered about on street corners, broadcasted over the holoscreens in bars.

He doesn’t know how they do it, though. And, more terrifyingly, doesn’t know what else they can track.

There is a screaming, hysterical place inside him, irrational but un-ignorable, which is convinced that the Empire can reach into people’s minds and tear thoughts right out of them. That, if he thinks the wrong thing too loud or too often, he will bring the Empire down onto him.

This is impossible, he tells himself. But then again, he also thought it was impossible to see his friends gun down his Master.

So Cal forces himself to only think in Basic.

It isn’t hard to talk only in Basic, though he misses the curl of his lips over his other tongue more than he thought possible. But to think only in Basic is a constant, conscious choice.

Sometimes he slips up, and he clamps down on his shields and moves away from where he was standing. His heart races in his chest.

The last words his Master said to him echo in his dreams and they are not in Basic. He doesn’t want to think about those words, either. He has other things he needs to worry about.

There are very few kind people, here. And Cal is small and alone.

(He wonders if his Master would have done the same thing he did, had he known there was no one left to rescue Cal. The last thought in his Master’s mind had been of the council sending someone to scoop Cal up, safe and sound, bundle him away someplace warm — Cal can feel that from his lightsaber. But there is no one left to rescue him, and Cal’s Master had thrown him someplace cold and rainy and unsafe. There’s no one left to take care of him, not that Cal needs much taking care of, anymore.)

(Would he have made the same decision, if he knew Cal would be alone?)

His Master’s last words haunt him, in that language-which-is-not-Basic. He doesn’t think about those, either. Doesn’t think about at all.

The alone part makes him vulnerable on this planet, but the small part makes him useful. He’s not old enough to be a full member of any guild, but there’s always plenty of pickup work for the mice, as they’re called, in a scrapyard. Narrow heads and shoulders to fit up into places no one else could fit.

It keeps him fed, and Cal keeps his head down. Days start to creep by.

Today, there's a new worker on their rotation, and his Basic is thickly accented.

And he says Cal’s name differently, rounds out the vowel — “Khal,” he calls, “Little mouse, you are small, come here, get up into tiny spaces, come on, up-up—”

And it freezes Cal where he stands because— that’s almost right. That’s almost how you’d say his name in not-Basic, in that other thing he refuses to think about.

He hears those last words from Master Tepal’s mouth — “ Padawan kat fehl, netana, paikawaji uu dai” —  and for a sudden, dizzying moment, that is all he can hear.

He must freeze in place for a second too long, because someone calls to him again.

“Hey, Cal, buddy,” and Cal hates how he jumps. It’s Prauf, with the kind eyes, who seems to have decided that Cal needs looking after. “Cal, you okay there?”

Cal shakes his head to clear it. He can still hear the words whispering, but ignores them.

“Haj dai, Jaieh,” he says, going for reassuring, already moving towards where the new worker pointed him.

Prauf says, “What?” and he sounds so baffled that Cal turns back to him.

“What do you mean, what?”

“What did you just say to me?”

“I said ‘Yes, Prauf.’”

“No you didn’t. You said haz —” Prauf twists his mouth around the words, and then gives up on saying the rest. “And, yeah, you called me something, what’s Jai—”

“I didn’t say anything like that,” Cal bites. He sounds strangled, even to his own ears. “I said ‘Yes, Prauf,’ that’s what I said.”

Prauf, to his credit, raises his hands in acquiescence. “Okay, okay kid, that’s what you said.”

The new worker, who Cal doubts understood much of the conversation, chimes in with a high voice and a wave of his arms. “Yes, yes, very good, we all talk Khal out, all friends now, so if little mouse pleases, could he climb up into tiny space?”

Cal turns away from Prauf and pretends his heart isn’t trying to escape his chest as he pulls himself up into the gap between a ship’s wall and what used to be part of the thrusters. He’s got pliers clutched in between his teeth, and is biting a little more than necessary.

He’s expecting troopers to grab his legs, yank him out, put a blaster to his head. He’s imagining the words floating up and dissolving into the Force, of his Jaieh tilting a disappointed eyebrow at him.

He bites down on his language, and schools his thoughts into Basic.

.

Kanan is working with a decent crew, right now. He signed on for a few milk run missions as general muscle and a gun, which should give him enough credits for basics and some wiggle room. They seem like a decent lot, and Kanan doesn’t mind working with them

Except.

Well, except the Pilot’s name is Caleb . And it is messing with Kanan’s head .

“Hey, pass this to Caleb up on the bridge?” says Maleek, their mechanic and general tech guy. They’re holding a holo chip of something, probably maps.

Kanan hates how much he falters, how his first instinct is to laugh and say, “I’m right here.”

“Sure thing.” He smiles and takes the chip, then starts making his way towards the front of the ship.

Honestly, he’s got no idea how this hasn’t happened sooner. “Caleb” isn’t an uncommon name. It’s one that’s used on so many planets that it doesn’t really have a planet of origin.

But it makes his body feel as if it’s peeling in two, future and past, twisting like soft dough, to hear it spoken in his presence like that.

“Agisti, ” says the laughing Padawan he has buried deep within him, “tumi mikah Caleb!”

“Kanan!” Pilot Caleb says, grinning as he spins around in his seat. “What can I do for you, buddy?”

“Take this off my hands.” He slumps himself into Kanan, gunslinger, wanderer, shit-talker. He flips the chip to the pilot whose name he didn’t want to think of, and ducks out of the cockpit as fast as possible.

The community on this ship is incredible. Or, maybe, it is average, and Kanan has been alone for long enough that it seems incredible.

And, even more surprising, they all seem to actually like him. Maleek fixes his blaster without being asked and Pilot Caleb keeps trying to get him into games of cards, the other guns and muscle jostle him in a friendly way when they pass him in the halls, and the captain says things about needing to help Kanan upgrade his armor, as if he’s going to stick around.

Kanan bites his tongue and pretends he doesn’t want to stick around. He can’t.

He can’t trust anyone. He can’t rely on anyone, can’t get comfortable anywhere. He needs to keep moving.

Trust is easily shattered. Nothing is certain.

He remembers his Master telling him about how important that was, how important it was to remember that nothing was certain, except the Force. That even their word for ‘yes,’ so concrete and decisive in Basic, gave room for ambiguity— “Force Wills,” the Jedi said.

He can hear the giggling of younglings in the creche  — “Will you clean up the paint, little one?”

“Haj dai!” Force wills.

“So why aren’t you doing that now?” “Force says no!”

Then squealing laughter, as the child is picked up and hugged and tickled. For being clever enough to make that connection, but silly enough to not help.

Nothing is concrete, nothing is certain, except the Force. And now Kanan doesn’t even have that to believe in.

“Will I ever see you again?” he shouts to the woman in her dreams, who commands him to run, who saves him and condemns him and gives him his new name.

“Force wills,” she says, and it’s a lie and isn’t. Because she doesn’t say yes.

So Kanan cut his own braid and renamed himself and soldered ( ha ) on.  

He needs to walk away from these people, he realizes. He can’t stay, no matter how much he wants to. He can’t bring danger on them. He can’t let them be killed because he is found.

In a ten-days time, the Pilot Caleb and Maleek and their caption will say, “Stay, Kanan.”

And he will want to say “ Yes .” Haj dai.  

Force wills.

He will run away again.

(ibli kanan )

.

Ahsoka has gotten here too late.

There aren’t that many Jedi left to rescue, though that’s something Ahsoka tries not to think about too much. Most of the ones who escaped the initial purge were hunted down in the very, very early days of the Empire, before there was enough structure in the Rebellion to even think about helping them. Ahsoka survived it by not being a Jedi. Well. That and Rex.

They’re always too late, with Jedi, if they even know at all. The Empire and the Inquisitors, always a step ahead. Always.

As Fulcrum, Ahsoka’s jobs keep her away from the front lines. She works in intel. She works in running messages. She works with refugees.

She’d been closest, when they heard the distress call. And, though Ahsoka would never admit it, part of her jumped and stood upright at the idea of saving a Jedi. Seeing another Jedi. Speaking to them.

But she’s gotten here too late.

The crumpled form of a Duros is all that is left of the Inquisitors. A Duros with a hole through his chest, bleeding sluggishly, twitching the last bits of life out of himself.

The Force wraps around him and weeps. Ahsoka knows that feeling. That’s what the Force always does, when a Jedi dies.

Ahsoka falls to her knees next to the form. She cannot judge the age of this being, she thinks in a panic — she’s always been awful at judging age in Duros, Barriss used to tease her about it —  but she’d guess a few years older or younger than herself. Ahsoka’s hands hover uselessly. There’s no healing this wound. She knows it.

Had she ever met him? In the Temple, all those years ago? Had they passed in the halls, handed each other food, shared friends?

Helpless to do anything else, Ahsoka gets the Doros’s head onto her lap. Off the ground. Some measure of comfort.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when his eyes slit themselves open. When he stares up at her, eyes hazy, barely coherent.

She nearly passes out when a rush of warmth and relief swells through the Force between them, and the Doros smiles at her.

“Jaieh Tabris ,” he breaths out. The name is spoken as if it is comfort given form. His voice is achingly soft. “Jesara, Jaiah. Henelru...foh keelak.”

Ahsoka goes cold, because she recognizes the name. It conjures an image so old she thought she’d forgotten it. A Togrutan Master, maybe 10 years older than Obi-Wan. A soft-spoken and gentle woman, who liked to help teach children how to read. A woman who now shared Ahsoka’s coloring and build almost exactly, from montreals to face markings.

She knows the tone of voice the Doros just spoke to her in. She used to use it every day. (Wishes, often, that she still could.)

She’s holding Master Tabris’s Padawan. He’s dying in her arms.

The relief in the Force twists a bit, and he repeats, “Jaieh?” with a little more uncertainty. The fear creeping back in. Of letting down your Master, letting down your people. Of dying alone.

What else is Ahsoka supposed to do?

(Because if it were her— if it were her and Anakin, she’d want— even if it were pretend, she’d want—)

“Haj dai, Padawan ,” she says. She keeps her voice soft and even. “ Tamah foh bika. ” The words fall off her tongue as if she never stopped speaking this.

His eyes focus a bit more on her face. He tries to smile. “Jaieh,” he says, actually to her this time. And Ahsoka—

Ahsoka—

Ahsoka remembers a time in her life when all she wanted was to hear someone call her that. Being 15 and imagining a future where she was doing the training, instead of being trained. Her head on Anakin’s knee and a campfire warm on her face, imagining a future in peacetime, Anakin cutting her silka beads off and her rising to her feet a Knight, embracing him while Obi-Wan embraced them both. She remembers the future she used to imagine for herself; solo missions, growing and improving, always returning home. Finally being taller than Anakin. Obi-Wan going easily, gracefully gray.

She remembers imagining bringing her own Padawan to their lineage dinners, Anakin teasing them both, Obi-Wan resting and smiling. Imagining being in a position, one day, when a little Light would be hers to teach, and look up at her and call her “Jaieh.”

But Ahsoka never got to grow into that title. She never even got to be a Knight. She left her home a Padawan, and never got to return enough to become anything more.

And now she never would.

But Ahsoka cups the face of the person on her lap, whose name she would never know, and lets them both pretend.

“ Rakaah foh wungak,” chokes the man on her lap. “Jaieh, sooah foh enoctak.”

“Leoah foh, Padawan. Leoah foh. Tamah foh bika, tamah foh bika.”

His hand, nearly vibrating in effort, moves up to grasp hers. Ahsoka covers it with her other hand. She can feel the pain coming off him in waves, but she can also feel the peace. The knowledge that he is safe, now.

And in some ways, Ahsoka thinks bitterly, she supposes he is. Even if he isn’t in the arms of his Jaieh . Perhaps he soon will be.

The fingers in hers tighten. The Padawan’s eyes close.

“Komlah foh keelak, Jaieh. Komlah foh…”

And he stops moving.

And Ahsoka doesn’t move for a long time.

TRANSLATION NOTES:

Padawan kat fehl, netana, paikawaji uu dai: My Padawan, remember, trust only in the Force. -"Kawaji" is "trust," in the future tense, and "pai" is our consequential prefix, which means that the action will have lasting consequences. This takes the place of the "only" for denouncing how important this piece of information is. -"Dai," the word for the Force, never has an article before it.

Haj dai, Jaieh: Yes, Master. -Haj dai literally translates to "Force Wills"

Agisti, tumi mikah Caleb!: Hello, I am called Caleb! -"Agisti" is a greeting you would give someone who has the same rank in the Order as you, who you are equals with-- Padawan to Padawan, for instance.

ibli kanan: Little runner

Jesara, Jaiah. Henelru...foh keelak: Hello, Master. I...missed you. -"Jersara" is a respectful greeting; Padawan to Master, Master to Council member, ect.

Tamah foh bika: I am here

Rakaah foh wungak. Jaieh, sooah foh enoctak: I feel pain. Master, I feel pain. -There are different words for feeling physically and feeling mentally, as well as different words for mental and physical pain. The first sentence is declaring he is physically feeling (raka, here in present tense) physical pain (wung, here in accusative case), and the second that he is mentally feeling (soo, here in present tense) mental pain (enoct, here in accusative case).

Leoah foh, Padawan. Leoah foh. Tamah foh bika, tamah foh bika: I know. I know, Padawan. I am here, I am here.

Komlah foh keelak, Jaieh. Komlah foh...: I love you, Master. I love... -"Koml" (komlah here, in present tense) refers specifically to familial/platonic love

[glimmerglanger]

Glimmer your latest spice entry had me feeling so tuned on and so upset at the same time!! I loved it. But now I am gonna go read all the Obi-Wan polite vampire snippets to calm down lol.

:DDDD I feel like “turned on and upset” could be the by-line for the age/role-swap AU. I also feel like polite vampire Obi-Wan ONLY accepts enthusiastic consent, Force love him.

Anonymous said:

The anon mentioning slo AU lit up something in my brain, Spicy week stays awakening things in me!! A humble HC: the only way role swap AU gets better/worse is if it’s abo. Obi-Wan gets pregnant despite his best efforts, and Anakin burns it all down for him like canon. And his efforts to run away with Cody are thwarted by Order 66, but Anakin “saves him” leaving him nowhere else to turn...

OH MAN, YEA. That definitely makes things more fraught. I could imagine that Anakin talks about them having kids, someday, when he’s changed things. And Obi-Wan has a really bad feeling about that, but... everything falls apart anyway T_T

ALSO, SO, I mentioned writing my headcanons for this fic and it seems like that would be appealing, so I SHALL. I’m putting them under a cut, because they got LONG:

SO, I feel like Qui-Gon ends up picking up Anakin shortly after the First Xanatos Debacle. He ends up on Tatooine for whatever reason, the podrace shenanigans play out, he takes Anakin with him and is like, “The Force wants me to train this boy, he’s the Chosen One, suck it, Council.”

The Council has, collectively, a bad feeling about this, but, hey, it is what it is.

Anakin meets Palpatine shortly after coming to Coruscant. Palps obviously isn’t Chancellor yet, just the Senator from Naboo, but he does notice Anakin’s potential immediately as Dream Sith Apprentice and the grooming starts ASAP. 

Anakin spends around twelve years hearing how he’s special and the Chosen One and etc etc etc. 

And then Qui-Gon dies on Naboo, falls to a Sith lord because Anakin - despite being the Chosen One - wasn’t quite fast enough. And Anakin killed the guy, cut him in half, but his Master is still dead, he’s still left Anakin alone, and it’s not fair that he’d do that, not fair at all, Anakin can’t bear it, etc.

Anyway, Anakin broods and grieves and drifts closer to the Dark. The Council looks at the situation and is like, well, kriff. He’s refusing mind healing. Maybe… it would help if he had some companionship. He could take a Padawan. He’s always liked having someone with him, and maybe it would… be good for him. Help settle his emotions.

So, they select the youngling with the deepest connection to the Force, with a calm but implacable spirit, and they say, alright, Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi. He’s your Padawan now. Go save some planets. Obi-Wan is around 13 at this point and fully primed to hero worship Anakin, shocked that he’s been picked to be the Chosen One’s Padawan and ready to do the best he can.

Anakin is a bit bitter about all of this for about five minutes, but he’s always gotten attached quickly and the first time Obi-Wan does something risky and selfless, he’s like WHELP. My Padawan, never sending him back to the Council, look at him, he’s perfect. He’s MINE, I have someone else, and I’m going to make sure this person never leaves me, ever. MINE MINE MINE.

He gets very protective of Obi-Wan very damn quickly. Unlike in canon, he doesn’t have his old mentor there, helping him figure out the whole Master thing. It’s just him and Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan /is/ so bright and true and clever (and hey, Anakin can’t help but notice that Obi-Wan has a crush on him, even if at first it just flatters his ego).

And then one day it’s not just flattering his ego, one day he looks over at Obi-Wan with his blue eyes and bright smile and freckles and feels a kick of want in his gut and goes, oh, I’m in love with my Padawan.

I have waffled back and forth about how long it takes for Anakin to feel attraction towards him (because once he does, I can’t actually see Anakin waiting to act on it, based on how it was in canon. We’ve seen him try to resist forbidden feelings. He lasted about 15 seconds). I went with “years” before Obi-Wan gets Knighted. If I do write a whole fic, I’ll need to nail it down, but for now…. 

In any case, he realizes what he wants and probably goes to talk to Palps (now Chancellor about it). He keeps things vague, but not really vague enough, and Palps is like, oh, Anakin, why would anyone ever let some old, foolish RULES stand in the way of your HEART? What do the Jedi know of ~love~ you should do what feels right for YOU etc etc etc

And, anyway, Anakin reasons, the Council had to KNOW this would happen when they gave Obi-Wan to him. Master Yoda sees the future, sometimes. In fact, they probably WANTED this to happen, they WANT him to touch Obi-Wan this way. And more than that, Obi-Wan WANTS it to happen, he’s always trying to hide it, but he’s got a crush. It’s the will of the Force and even they can feel it.

And so he kisses Obi-Wan, who is shocked by this turn of events (THE CHOSEN ONE, HIS MASTER, KISSING HIM) but he’s also not going to put up even the token resistance Padme did in canon, because, again: the Chosen One and his Master. And he can feel the truth in Anakin’s words when Anakin says he wouldn’t be able to handle it if they were separated.

Obi-Wan is young and doing the best he can and trusts Anakin and doesn’t tell a soul, not while he’s a Padawan, not after he’s Knighted, and, anyway, they’re at war then, and, well. They’re busy. I think the Clone Wars play out pretty close to the same way. Obi-Wan can feel Anakin slipping more and more into darkness, does his best, trying to hold the weight of the galaxy.

Anakin says Obi-Wan is the only thing keeping him in the light, says he needs Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan tries--

But Palpatine is there, too, and he’s had twenty+ years in the AU to figure out exactly how to pull Anakin’s strings. Hell, he put most of the strings there himself. It isn’t actually difficult, when the time comes, to dangle vague threats to Obi-Wan’s well-being in front of him, to offer up the promise of them being ~together~ and ~in control~ right there, and just watch Anakin jump for them.

And then the au could go one of two ways.

There’s the hopeless way, where they never realize where Anakin went after the scouring of the Temple. He comes back from Mustafar in a cloud of darkness and Palpatine tells him that Obi-Wan died on Utapau (as far as Palpatine knows, this is true). Anakin, however, refuses to believe it and goes looking for him. Finds him, tells him everything is alright now, they can be together.

Obi-Wan is shattered, all jagged edges, he felt his whole family die, saw Anakin doing it, and I think he’d try to fight Anakin. Anakin excuses this as Obi-Wan just being confused and upset. Brings him back to Coruscant, and…

The rest of Obi-Wan’s life is increasingly dire, as the dark swallows Anakin up ever more quickly, and it’s possible Anakin eventually turns back by killing Palps for threatening Obi-Wan’s life, dying in the process, but I don’t know.

No real happy ending, here.

Then there’s the slightly more hopeful way that involves Obi-Wan running off to lead the Rebellion and getting a shit ton of therapy and learning how to recover from...his entire life and eventually maybe saving the galaxy and being happy, but I’m less sure how that one plays out.

[sarcastic-bubble]

Let’s Blame it on Blood Loss

Paring: Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader

Word Count: 2.4K 

Warnings: Mentions of injury and death, mention of blood, little bit of angst, but lots of fluff at the end

Summary: Obi-wan and Reader are sent on a stealth mission and someone trips on a pile of droids.  Part two

A/N: Obi-wan is the best and deserves all the love. Now that I’ve said that I hope you all enjoy! Also, there will be a second part, at some point. 

What had started out as a simple mission to gather information from an abandoned separatist base had quickly gone downhill. You and Obi-wan Kenobi had just rather unceremoniously stuffed yourselves in an empty closet to try and avoid a large group of lookout droids. “So much for it being abandoned,” you mumble under your breath.

The man in front of you shifts, trying to get ear closer to the door. “They’ve passed by. We should be safe to continue now,” he replied quietly stepping out of the closet. “At the very least this makes things a bit more exciting. It was you who mentioned how boring this would be, wasn’t it?” The smirk the played on the man’s lips had you rolling your eyes and forcing your way past him. The coast did look clear, for now at least.

“Why don’t you spend less time teasing me and more trying to find that protocol droid Master Kenobi,” you stated, only half-joking. The sooner the two of you were out of here the better. The whole point of the mission was to be in and out before anyone noticed your presence. When the base was supposedly abandoned that task hadn’t seemed so difficult, but all these unexpected lookout droids had you on edge. You had learned early in your years as a Jedi that exciting was not always better.

“Oh please, Master (L/N),” teased the other Jedi, “don’t pretend that you-.” He was cut off abruptly by the sound of a door opening and closing in quick succession. Obi-wan’s expression shifts from playful to more serious. He peeked his head around the corner, a few droids were walking away from the room. “I have a funny feeling we might find what we’re looking for in there.” He subtly gestured with his head to the door that you had yet to see.

“How long do you think it will take those droids to clear out? We can hardly sneak into a room when the door is more than loud enough to announce our presence to anyone in the general area?” You ask as you push yourself against Obi-wan’s back and lean your head out just enough to get a proper view of the door.

“No one said anything about taking the door, (Y/N)” He looked up to a vent only a few feet away from where the two of you hid. “I imagine that’s big enough for us to fit through. At the very least you’ll fit.” He glances up and down your smaller frame.

“You know how I feel about small spaces Obi. I won’t have a lot of room to move if I get discovered while in there.” You cross your arms and lean back against the wall. You loathed small spaces. They were cramped, dark (although the dark wasn’t really all that bad), and made you feel like you were trapped. The thought of climbing through this vent had you shuddering. If a space was too small for you to properly wield your lightsaber you took that as a sign that you weren’t meant to be there.

“You didn’t seem to mind hiding in the closet earlier. If I’m remembering correctly you were the one who pushed me in there,” he teased quietly.

“That closet was a lot bigger. But fine, whatever, let’s get this over and done with.” You very carefully remove the cover of the vent and set it down on the ground. With all the grace you can manage you hoist yourself up into the vent. It wasn’t as small as your worried it would be but naturally you were stuck crawling on all fours. The metal was cold and uncomfortable, and every creek or groan had you stop for a moment and hold your breath. When it was clear you weren’t heard you continued on slowly. This was terrible. The next time the council thought it would be a good idea to send you on a stealth mission you swore to tell no. Not that there really was much good it would do when the council gave you an assignment but everything was worth trying once.

Obi-wan waited patiently leaning against the wall. The droids walked past without noticing and he had taken the opportunity to slip down the hall and wait next to the closed door. You had been right when you said it would be too loud to open it, but he hoped to hear when you dropped down to the ground. As inconvenient as it was, he found your phobia rather endearing and respected you all the more for not letting it stop you. He heard a soft thud on the other side of the door. You must have made it. “(Y/N), does it look like the droid is in there?” he asked just loud enough for you to hear.

“I think so, it looks like what was shown to us. Just keep a lookout for a few minutes while I transfer these memory files,” you replied. You pulled out a small black device and inserted it into an open slot in the droid. While technology was never really your strong suit you had been promised that all you needed to do was plug the device in and let the program inside do all the work. This really was simple enough, but it would take a few minutes. You paced around the room finding a few more odds and ends to look at. Most of it was just broken-down droids like the one you had been sent to look for. There was a barely audible beep when the file transfer had finished. You unplugged the small device and tucked it back into your pocket.

“I’ve got it, Obi! Let’s get ready to leave, I’m not spending one more minute in this place than I have to.” You lift yourself into the vent. You feel your foot catch on something but think nothing of it a just shake it off. As you begin to crawl forward you hear the unmistakable sound of metal sliding against metal. Before you could react, there was a series of loud crashes as the various droids fell to the ground and onto one another. “Shit,” you mumbled.

“I really suggest you hurry after making all that noise (Y/N)! I’m sure half the base heard it.” Shouted Obi-wan. There really was no point in being quiet anymore.

For you, that meant there was no reason to climb back through that dreadful vent again. You hopped out and made far more noise than you meant too as you landed in the pile of broken droids. The door was already open and Obi-wan was motioning for you to move faster. The two of you run and do your best to avoid the droids looking for you and you were successful too until you reached your ship. A large group of droids were firing at it with their blasters, you could only imagine they were trying to break it. You and Obi-wan found a spot to hide and come up with a plan.

“I’m going to go see if I can distract them. Maybe draw them away long enough for you start the engines. If they keep firing at it like that we’ll be stuck here,” you stated trying to analyze the damage already done.

All you received in response was nod. You were sure he expected you to have a carefully thought out plan, but alas it wasn’t so. Your plan was to draw your lightsaber and run. Thank the Maker droids were never the smartest because it worked out quite well for you. Their attention was drawn by the sound your lightsaber made and they began to fire at you. They were terrible shots while chasing after you and it didn’t take much to lose them after you led them far enough away from the ship. Well, you thought you had lost them. Apparently, your connection to the force was suffering because you were shocked when you felt the searing pain of a blaster bolt hitting your side. You did all you could to lose them, the only thing keeping you standing was pure adrenalin. In the end, you found yourself in the same closet this whole mess had started in. The droids passed by and didn’t think to check there, something you couldn’t be more thankful for.

With the adrenaline leaving your body you began to feel the pain in your left side more intensely and in a few more places where didn’t realize you had been hit.  Every movement to try and drag yourself out of that closet was agony. You couldn’t do it; the pain had become so much that your vision was being crowded by dark spots. There were steps outside of the door again. You were sure they would find you this time and finish what they started but when the door was slowly opened you were met with concerned blue eyes.

“Obi, I think I got shot… a lot,” you managed to mumble out between clenched teeth.

“I know you got shot, know come here and let me help you back to the ship.” He slipped and arm underneath your knees and another behind your back pulling you up against your chest. His voice was full of concern. He got you back to the ship without any problems and set you down on a small cot reserved for emergencies like these. “Next time you offer to be the distraction I’ll shoot you myself,” he half-heartedly teased. He tried to keep the situation light to keep you calm but he was filled with worry.

“I need to make it back to the Jedi temple alive for there to be a 'next time',” you groaned.

He placed a gentle and comforting hand against your cheek. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch. “You’ll make it back alive, trust me.”

“Hey Obi, just in case I don’t can I tell you something. We can blame it on the blood loss and my impending mortality if I am fine.” There were a lot of things you wanted to tell him then, but you felt your conciseness slipping. You were going to have to pick the most important things.

“Don’t talk like that. You’ll be-,“ You cut him off with a finger gently pressed against his lips.

“Shh... Obi, just let me talk.” The finger than had been on his lips moved to affectionately play with his bead. Maker how you loved that beard.  “I love you.” You felt relief as you finally spoke those words and Obi-wan’s response didn’t surprise you in the slightest.

“I love you too. Which is why you need to stay alive. I can’t do any of this without you.”

The feelings between you too had been obvious to the other for as long as you could remember, you both had come to a silent and mutual agreement to ignore how much you cared for the other, but it would’ve broken your heart and soul if you died without ever getting to say those words and hear them in return. “You’d be fine without me, dear,” you whisper. You do your best to prop yourself. You place a gentle kiss on his lips before the world goes black.

You were fairly certain you weren’t dead. You had yet to open your eyes, but you were fairly certain that wherever you would end up after you died wouldn’t have constant beeping, and there was something warm squeezing your hand. With a groan, you slowly blinked and took in your surroundings. You were in a bed in a room that must be back at the Jedi temple. The beeping was one of the few machines hooked up to you, this one busy keeping track of your vital signs. The warmth in your hand was the hand of someone else. You felt it gently squeeze once again and you looked up to see who was kind enough to wait by your bedside.

“I told you that you would make it back alive, didn’t I,” said a wonderfully familiar voice. The man’s free hand came to gently stroke your cheek. Your eye’s met Obi-wan’s wonderfully blue ones. They were filled with so much concern and love, you didn’t deserve this man in your life.

“Turns out I couldn’t leave you,” you replied relaxing into his touch. There was something incredibly soothing about it. All the aches you felt didn’t seem to matter so much now. You noticed something now you hadn’t when you first looked at him. There were dark bags under his eyes and his body seemed to slouch with exhaustion. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“I haven’t. Not since we returned. I couldn’t sleep knowing that you may not be there when I wake.” It was true too. You’d later find out that while you were being treated, he paced and waited outside the door and when you had been put in a room he sat by your side. The council hadn’t been happy with his behaviour, but not even their displeasure could pull him away from your side. Not until he knew you would be okay.

You hand come to rest on top of the one holding yours. Maker, you really didn’t deserve this man. “How long was I asleep?”

“Four days.”

“You haven’t slept in four days? That’s hardly healthy.”

“I would have waited longer by your side if I needed to.”

“I imagine the council hasn’t been pleased that you’ve been ignoring your duties in favour of waiting by me,” you say, idly rubbing circles on the top of his hand.

“They haven’t, but nothing would have pulled me from your side.” He shifted from the chair he was sitting on and onto your bed. You winced as you moved to make room for him. It was more than worth it when laying down next you and very carefully pulled you against his body, your head tucked underneath his.

As he pulled you to him there was an occasional pull on your wounds, and you winced with the movement but once you were in his arms you felt warmer and safer than you had in years. “You should rest before the council comes to whisk you away again,” you mumble against his chest.

You heard a quiet hum and felt it vibrate through his chest. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and in seconds you were both fast asleep.

[xkid86]

Can u write 5&25 with obi wan, Please?

You are officially my new favorite person, ur amazing, ilysm. Also this ask just brought back my crush on Obi tenfold.

5 should be out soon, promise, but here’s 25!

25. “Don’t. Move.”

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.4k b/c I have no self control

Warnings: Fluff, injury, Mace is a bit OOC probably, dialogue heavy

A/N: Fun fact Obi-Wan had a R4-P17 during the Clone Wars. All planet/sector/character names are made up. 

~~~

“We believe there to be a Seperatist outpost on Sainti Tue, a planet close to our current campaign on Trogosath in the Scallerri sector. This may pose a threat to our efforts,” Mace Windu said calmly, walking around the circular halo-projector showing the position of the planets. “We need you to find it and see to it that it is taken care of.”

“Who else is assigned to this mission, if I may ask?” You look to the tan-clad Master to your left. 

“Well, since Skywalker and his troops are currently assigned on a mission in the Outer Rim, it will be just your and Obi-Wan’s forces on this assignment,” Master Windu says, turning to face the two of you. “I trust this will be sufficient.”

“Yes, Master,” you both bow, leaving the briefing. 

“So, another mission?” You ask Obi-Wan, walking alongside him toward the hanger. 

“Yes, this time hopefully without the usual recklessness I have to go through,” he chuckled. “It’s been quite some time since we’ve been on mission together, hasn’t it?”

“It has. It’s been rather quiet without you and your padawan causing trouble on our missions.” You both bow your head to Luminara and Ki-Adi Mundi as they pass you in the halls of the Jedi Temple.

“Anakin’s matured quite a bit since the last time we had a mission together. He’s actually taken on a padawan,” Obi-Wan says.

“Really? I’m surprised I haven’t heard about it. I suppose he’s still just as headstrong, though?” You smile, recalling the many times Anakin nearly sacrificed himself and the mission for some thing or another.

“Indeed. He’s doing quite well with Ahsoka so far,” he says, “She’s turning out rather well.” The two of you are separated briefly by a small group of younglings running between you both, scattered “Sorry Masters” floating back to you. 

“I imagine she’s just as determined and headstrong as her master, huh?” Having reached your destination, you turn to him.

“She has. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t requested a padawan yet, you’re a wonderful teacher,” he says, smiling softly at you. And honestly, between the compliment and his heart-stopping smile, you find yourself blushing.

“It’s not that I haven’t asked, I just think the Council doesn’t quite trust me with a youngling quite yet. I only completed my Trials a little more than three cycles ago,” you confess, looking down.

“Hmm, I think you have more than enough experience to take on a padawan, between your training and having to deal with my padawan,” he says. “And it’s honestly not like you can do any worse than Anakin.”

“I guess so… Well, I figure I should go gather up my troops. Meet you back here in ten?”

“Of course.”

The 212th legion and the (number)th legion land in the dense jungle of Sainti Tue. The air was hot and sticky, and it hits you in the face as you hopped off the carrier ship. Looking up at the gigantic shrubs and odd grasses, you recognize the purple onuyer’s distinct shape, its large, bulbous leaves creating cover for your troops, if there are any Separatists here. Climbing up a nearby rock, you see a circular compound not too far in the distance. Pressing the comlink on your wrist, you comm through to your captain and Obi-Wan. “I think I’ve found our heading.”

The ruins in front of you seemed deserted, at least from the outside. “Captain Ry, get Ink to open these blast doors please, on the double.”

The (color)-marked clone motions to your tech expert, who quickly gets the doors open. No one is in the main entrance, so you quietly move your troops into the hall. Pulling out your lightsaber, the (color) light cast shadows on the inlaid walls. Multiple passageways lay out in front of you, twisting and turning into darkness. You motion for the troops to split up and search the area, dividing themselves amongst the tunnels. Obi-Wan takes for the tunnel directly across from the entrance, and you follow up behind him. Taking a sharp turn, the two of you find yourself upon an earther stairwell. You start up, tensed and on edge, waiting for any battle droids to creep their way out of the stone inlay. The stone under your feet suddenly turns to metal, and both of you jump at the sudden “clang!” that rings out. “Ah yes, two skilled Jedi, started by the sound of a metal staircase,” Obi-Wan mutters, continuing up the flight of stairs. The stairs soon level out, opening up into a long, slightly-better-lit room. Simultaneously sheathing your weapons, you walk into the room, footsteps echoing slightly around you. The two of you slowly make your way through the room, steps becoming a bit less stealthy. It’s been half an hour- probably more- just getting through that long tunnel, and no droids have popped out? Talk about a bust mission. 

Slowly moving forward, Obi-Wan held his arm out, blocking you from going any further. “Don’t. Move.”

You stop, leaning into his outstretched arm ever so slightly, and listen, hearing the shuffle of battle droids in the dark balconies about you. 

“Did we just walk into a Seperatist trap?” You exhale.

“I do believe we just walked into a Seperatist trap,” he says, reaching towards his lightsaber. Your own (color) blade hummed alongside his. “A surprisingly well-laid Seperatist trap.” 

“Indeed.”

Blaster shots fire out, and deflecting some, you start running towards a nearby control panel. “Arfour, get those doors open!” You call to the red astromech droid, continuing to deflect blaster fire left and right, reflecting some shots back into their rightful owners. Arfour trills, apparently unable to get the doors open.

“It’s times like this that I miss Artoo,” Obi-Wan points out. “Even if his master is a bit troublesome.”

You huff out a laugh at that. “Very tru– ah!” A deadly beam of light managed to make its way past your saber and hit you in the leg. “Shit shit shit–.” You slump down on the ground slightly, your now-injured leg unable to support your weight. Hastily turning off your lightsaber, you notice a few straggling droids. “Obi, o-on your left,” you say weakly, trying not to let the pain get the best of you. I’ve had worse I’ve had worse this is nothing this is a scratch–

Obi-Wan quickly takes notice of your predicament. “Oh to hell with it!” Pushing Arfour away from the control panel, he quickly crushes the few remaining battle droids by way of the Force and works on cutting a hole through the blast doors. An opening is made in what seems like record time; Arfour gliding through while Obi-Wan picks you up. He holds you bridal-style, gently placing you down on the other side before climbing through himself. Picking you up again, his comlink suddenly beeps on his arm. Sighing, he awkwardly shuffles you about, before ending in a position where he was basically cradling you in his arms just to reach the comlink. “Great timing Cody,” he says, exasperation evident in his tone. 

“Sorry General. Just letting you know, we cleared the surrounding areas. We found no signs of Seperatist leaders on the outpost, just a whole lotta clankers,” the Commander’s voice came through on the comlink. “If there were, we believe they’ve already fled the planet.”

“Kriffing– all right. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point in time for extraction. In the meantime, can you make sure there’s a bacta kit or medic available? And put all my comms in through (y/n)’s for now,” Obi-Wan says, not waiting for a response before shuffling you back to a more comfortable position. “So sorry dear, Cody should really learn when a good time to call is–”

“Yeah, teach your Commander to use the Force,” you say, pain making you slightly out-of-it. “That’ll make sure he doesn’t comm you when he has no clue what’s going on.”

“Very funny,” he says, sidestepping bits of battle droids and sparking control panels. Good to see the clones cleared through, very few of your own men were shot down. Seeing a small platoon of your clones on the ground level just below the balcony you were on, he decides to make his way down. He is, however, unable to find a stairway or lift. Making use of a Force jump, he lands a bit harder than he would have cared to, jostling your leg and making you cry out in pain. “Shit– sorry darling, it’s going to be okay,” he says. You nestle into his chest as he stands and clears his throat–

The platoon finds it’s blaster sights pointed at the pair of you, before– “General!” Captain Ry says, quickly coming to your side. “What’s the matter sir?”

“Blaster shot to the leg,” Obi-Wan interjects. “Do you have a bacta kit on hand?” 

“No sir, we’re just onto the rendezvous point now, and fresh outta supplies,” he says, motioning for his men to start moving. “I can take them if you need me to,” Ry nods his head towards where you lay (quite comfortably) in Obi-Wan’s arms.

“I’ve got it, you worry about your men,” he says, turning his attention back to you. You were dozing off in his arms until he calls your name. “It would be in your best interest to stay awake, my dear.”    Hiding my blushing face may be my best interest right now, you think. Regardless of your personal state, you find enough strength to wrap your arms around Obi’s neck for support. “Bit of a bust mission, huh?” You mumble. “No Seperatist leaders, just a whole lot of scrap metal.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Very scarce for a mission you decide to get injured on.”

“It’s not like it was my choice,” you slur out, nuzzling your head back into Obi-Wan’s warm chest. “Man, it’s like the Trials all over again these days.”

“If you don’t end up with the rank of Master soon, I’m going to be very disappointed in the Council,” Obi chuckles

“A-aren’t you on the Council? Kind of rude to put yourself down like that,” you say, dozing off once again.

“You’re very right,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Cody! Where that damn medic!” The din of carrier ships “We have to get—to the cruiser—medical attention—”

Clips of sounds and voices fade in and out- the most predominant being Obi-Wan. By the time you come to, the bright white lights of the med bay were giving you a damn headache. 

“Maker, why is it so bright in hereeee,” you whine out, throwing the crook of your elbow over your eyes in an attempt to block the light harassing your eyelids.

“Glad to see you back in the land of the living,” a deep voice says from your left. 

“Obi-Wan,” you sigh out, glad to see a familiar face sitting next to you. “How long was I out?” He looked so tired, as if he’d been here for—

“Only a few days.” He held your right hand, gently intertwining your fingers with his. He presses a kiss to the back of your hand before placing it on his forehead, leaning over your bedside. “To be quite honest, I thought I could have lost you,” sadness laces his voice.

Not “we,” not “the Council.” Your heart twisted at the sound of him so sad. “But you didn’t,” you offer.

“And gods am I glad for that,” he smiles, standing and gently pressing his lips to your cheek- just a bit too close to your own. 

Pulling your other hand out from the covers, you tangle it in his hair and pull his lips to your own— Jedi Code be damned. You could have died, and for what? A bust mission. No sir; carpe diem. 

“If you’re going to kiss me, kiss me properly goddamn it,” you smile up at him.

“Ever the lively one, you are,” he smirks. “I’ll be back, I need to inform the Admiral and the Council you’re well.” 

~~~

“Thank you, Masters,” you smile at the Grand Council, then look to the young Togruta child by your side. 

“Hmm, a good teacher, you will be. A briefing of your next mission, Master Windu will give,” Yoda says from his chair, looking to his left. 

Master Windu nods, “Your briefing will be in the communications center in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you,” you smile and the child beams up at you, like the Moon reflecting the Sun’s light. 

Being the end of the meeting, the various Council members stand and mingle, discussing whatever it is that needs discussed. Well, except for one. “Run along, young one,” you say with a hand on their shoulder, “I’ll catch up.” You wink, their blue cheeks going a shade darker at the attention. They run off, darting between the Council members and down towards the communications center. You walk over to where Obi-Wan sat sprawled out in his seat, gazing at you affectionately. The room was mostly cleared out by now, and as you placed yourself to stand just in between his legs, you held out your hands. He took them in his own, admiring you as you smile down on him. “I’m a Master,” you say, pride and exhilaration in your eyes and voice. 

“I know. I was the one who suggested to the Council granting you the rank,” he smirks, pulling himself up. “Kandra Rae Haal, hmm?” You smile at the name of the 14 year old Togruta now in your care. “I daresay she is almost as headstrong as Anakin.”

“Oh no,” you say in feigned terror. “I’ve put up with him this long, I think I’ll be fine.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he says with his usual smug look. From where his hands are intertwined with yours, he pulls you into a hug. He squeezes you tight, his arms wrapped around your waist and yours around his neck, where one hand comes up to play with his hair. Since he almost lost you- which he’s convinced happened, regardless of it only being a shot to the leg- your relationship bloomed, under covers of course, neither of you quite ready to leave the Order in such a dire time. 

“Either way, thank you,” you say, holding him tight and all but burying your face in his neck.

“While I do enjoy holding you while not in a life-or-death situation, I daresay it would be bad for you to show up late to your first briefing as a Jedi Master,” he says, pulling away from you slightly. 

“Oh shi-” You didn’t realize how long you spent with him. With a quick peck on the cheek, you rush out into the halls of the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan smiles as he leisurely makes his way out of the Council’s tower. “Already doing better than Anakin,” he remarks to himself. 

[wr1t3-my-wr0ngs]

Remembering Yesterday's Tomorrow (In the Here and Now) - Part 5

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

The darkness stretches infinitely. Ahead of her, the only thing Ahsoka can see is the bright shape of Morai, the convor unfailingly flying forward, and the ever-constant blackness that presses in from all directions. And it does press like a physical weight —she can feel it on her skin, a cross between the atmosphere of a planet that has a different gravity, and being submitted in water.

She is viscerally reminded of her time spent in the World Between Worlds, where the rules of conventional gravity and time did not apply. But in comparison, this place feels wild, untouched. No paths of light or dancing stars or infinite doors mark the landscape. It hadn't occurred to her before now that the World Between that she had experienced with Ezra had been artificial, constructed by someone or some group to be just as much a part of the temple on Lothal as any other room or mural.

Walking through the endless void, it seems a little obvious in retrospect.

It's unclear how long she has been following her avian companion, concepts such as hours, minutes and seconds, have no use in this place. There is the sense that she has been walking for a while, but even that is only a vague notion that sits in the back of her mind like the dawning of an idea before it has coalesced. She only knows that she is not where she was when she set out, Rex's grave having disappeared from view almost as soon as she had decided to follow Morai.

Rex.

Her heart twists at the thought of him; the aching loss still too fresh to be touched without dredging up the pain. She touches it anyway; lets herself grieve without shame or obligation, remembering the joy along with the sorrow. His smile, hidden behind his beard, a little crooked and always so genuine; the sound of his voice as he sang in the shower, the embarrassed flush on his face when caught in the act, but willing to oblige with a song when asked; the way he never looked at her with resentment when she had to go and the overwhelming, pulsing, warm joy he broadcasted every time she returned, no matter how long she was away.

Deep inside, she wishes they had more time together, wishes that it hadn't taken so long for her to recognize that her feelings for the clone ran deeper than just friendship. Not the sweeping romantic feelings her old master harbored for his wife, or even the quiet longing between Obi-wan and Santine. It had taken her years to realize that she didn't have those sorts of inclinations and even longer to reconcile it with her ability and capacity to love. She's still not entirely sure she understands it herself but is forever grateful for Rex, who took the time to try and understand and learn, put in his share of effort to make things work between them.

A chirp from Morai brings her back to her surroundings, a little surprised to find that she had stopped walking at some point, her cheeks damp with tears. The bird hovers before her, head tilted with concern, and settles on Ahsoka's shoulder, nuzzling her beak against the Togrutas montral.

Despite herself, Ahsoka smiles and gently strokes the soft feathers before drying her eyes. Morai hoots once before taking off back into the dark, and Ahsoka, heart still full, follows.

---

To say that Anakin Skywalker is frustrated would be the understatement of the galaxy. It's been almost two weeks since Umbara, two weeks since he left his men in the hands of Krell, two weeks of his Captain being locked away for doing something Anakin does not, cannot fault him for. Just thinking about Krell brings a snarl to his face.

Good riddance, he thinks as he works on writing up his latest report, jamming the stylus too hard against the datapad screen. Not even the sun, shining brightly through the window by his desk, or the feeling of thousands of lifeforms in the force bustling around Coruscant, can lighten his mood.

Yes, Anakin Skywalker is frustrated and angry. Frustrated because Rex doesn't deserve to be kept as a prisoner, mad because he should have known. What good is being the kriffing chosen one if he can't spot a karking Sith Sympathiser when they are standing right in front of him?

All at once, the anger leaves him and is replaced, as it has been off and on since he got the news of Umbara, by the underlying guilt and shame. He should have been there, not flying back to Coruscant to take care of some whim of the Supreme Chancellors. 

For the first time in a long time, he resents his old friend. Rationally, he knows Palpatine must have thought he had a good reason, and that perhaps if it were anyone but Rex on the line, he would be able to forgive the older man after a few days. He knows he'll forgive his friend eventually; after all, it was an accident. It's not as if the old senator could have known Krell's true agenda.

But for now, Anakin is still mad. Because it's Rex, his second in command, one of the best damn soldiers he has ever known, and the missions haven't been the same without him, have practically ground to a halt in his absence. More than that, the Captain is one of the few people the Jedi truly considers as a friend.  Someone who doesn't give two shits about the so-called prophecy or his relationship to it, who has seen him at his most ridiculous and still respects him. Is one of the two people -not counting Padmé herself- that knows about his relationship with his wife.

And friends don't just let friends sit in a cell, waiting on either freedom or a death sentence.

A knock on the door pulls him from his reverie.

"Enter."

The door opens with a swish, revealing, to his surprise, Obi-Wan, dressed only in robes for a change, his chest plate and vambrace elsewhere for the time being, looking haggard.

Amusement briefly flickers across the old bond from his Master, before Obi-Wan slumps into the only other chair in the room.

Glad for the excuse to set aside his report, Anakin turns to face the bearded man.

"I didn't expect to see you planetside."

"I'm only here for your Captains Court Marshal. I thought it best if I gave my testimony in person rather then via holo-call. I ship back out to the front lines tomorrow."

Anakin scowls at the mention of the trial but quickly drops it with a sigh.

"Thank you."

Obi-Wan nods.

"He's a good man and doesn't deserve to be punished for his actions on Umbara."

The bearded Jedi pauses in the way that Anakin has come to know means that his former Master wants to say something, but isn't sure how to approach the topic.

"Have you spoken to him yet?"

Inwardly, Anakin curses himself. He thought he had control over his tumultuous emotions, tight enough that they wouldn't spill into the bond with his master and let Obi-Wan glimpse his rolling guilt and anger. Apparently, his control wasn't as good as he had thought.

"Not yet, " he responds truthfully, picking back up the half-finished report and feigning interest, hoping that the appearance of having work to do will discourage Obi-Wan from his line of questioning.

It seems to work, as his former Master goes silent for a few moments. Just when he thinks that Obi-Wan has dropped the topic and that it's safe to put down the report, the older Jedi speaks.

"I think you should visit him. I imagine that it's starting to get a little lonely and that a supportive face might do Rex some good."

To anyone who hadn't grown up under the tutelage of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the double meaning would be subtle, sounding like nothing more than concern for the Clone Captains well being. Anakin does not have that disadvantage, and catches what his Master isn't saying. How visiting Rex might do him some good too.

Anakin takes a moment to breathe deeply before looking at his Master, a sharp reply on the tip of his tongue about being coddled this late in his life, only to cut himself off. Obi-Wan looks tired. Shoulders slumped forward, and the young Jedi briefly wonders how much of his Master's posture in the battlefield is due to the confines of his chest plate and pauldrons enforcing the rigid set to his shoulders.

Gently he reaches out through their shared bond, taking the measure of the bearded man's intentions. He finds nothing malicious, only love and concern, and it feels to his mind, forever the product of a hot and sandy planet, like a cool blanket being draped around his shoulders after a day working in the suns.

"I'll visit him tomorrow."

Obi-Wan smiles, and Anakin finds himself smiling back. With that, the conversation drops into a lull, the two men chatting aimlessly about one thing and another, before eventually checking back around to Obi-Wans up coming mission.

"Where is the Council sending you off to this time?"

"Kiros. It seems the colony there is feeling mounting pressure from the war and has requested aid."

Recognition sparks in the back of Anakin's mind. He was supposed to be joining that mission, but with the trial proceedings running longer than expected, the order had opted not to assign the Knight. Anakin understands the thinking, that doesn't mean he has to like it, but at the same time, he's grateful that he won't be abandoning Rex to his fate alone.

"They found someone to accompany you after all?"

Obi-Wan hums.

"Indeed. Master Ti found herself available, and we are hoping that her presence as a fellow Togruta will help things go over more smoothly."

Anakin huffs in amusement.

"They're an artisans colony, shouldn't be too hard."

The Jedi Master tilts his head in concession and smiles, relaxing back into the chair.

"It will be nice to have a relatively easy mission for a change."

---

Rex is starting to go a little stir crazy. A side effect he had not considered when he had decided to take responsibility for Krell's death. His immediate thoughts had been to keep his men out of harm's way, fix one last piece of the mess that was Umbara.

In hindsight, his plan was a bit shortsighted, but he honestly didn't know what to expect after - if he would still be around or if the galaxy had finished toying with him and would let him march ahead and rest with his brothers.

Two weeks of waking up in a cell, at first on Umbara, later on, a star destroyer, and finally on Coruscant, had cemented the notion that the Captain was in this whatever this is for the long haul. It had also lost its novelty rather quickly. Despite the growing restlessness, only alleviated by the occasional walk to and from the senate building to give testimony, it has given him time to think. Even so, he hasn't come to a decision and so he runs through his options one more time.

He knows Palpatine is corrupt, is the shadow figurehead wielding two separate armies for control of the galaxy, is responsible for the death and misery of millions.

It would be easy to do nothing. To let the war and rebellion play out as they did. He knows that Palatine will get what's coming to him in due time.

Rex buries his face in his hands and feels like a coward for even considering the idea. But the alternative is daunting: Stop the Empire before it can even exist, more so then it already does (it's sickening to see how much is already in place, to realize that between the Separatists and the Republic, the Empire already stretches across the Galaxy, is in every home and hyperspace lane. Seeds of a dark and totalitarian regime just waiting to sprout). He doesn't even know how he would start or if it's even possible to change things on such a large scale.

But things are already different. In small ways, yes, but still distinct from what they were.

Dogma, Hardcase, and a handful of other troopers that would have died (did die once) because of Krell's orders, alive and ready for a fight.

Burgeoning hope roots itself under his ribs, a fragile thing that Rex is afraid to cling too tightly to and accidentally kill, so he lets it sit near his heart, next to his joy and sorrow, and contemplates what it would take to change the fate of the galaxy.

Help, his mind supplies, I need help.

He can't do this alone. It's a risk involving others- letting anyone in on the knowledge he has, or even his suspicions, will raise questions, some that he won't be able to answer truthfully. Even in the privacy of his own mind having experienced it for himself, time travels as an explanation sounds ridiculous, and not everyone will be as willing to believe him as Fives.

And although Rex trusts his brother and knows that Fives will have his back in this, two soldiers do not a rebellion make. But it is a start.

More than people, Rex needs information, connections that can help him prove the Chancellor's corruption. His own set of skills in information gathering is, admittedly, limited, although more comprehensive than it was before he had lived through the Empire. But success hinges on convincing people to join him, and for that, he needs proof.

A face comes to mind, unbidden, and it gives the Captain pause. His first instinct is to bury the idea as deep as he can. Senator Amidala is, by all counts, not someone Rex wants to risk in this endeavor. But he can't deny that she would be nearly perfect for the task, is reasonably sure that she already has a list of the Chancellors more questionable decisions and policies.

The longer he thinks about it, the better he likes the idea. She's an intelligent woman, who Rex knows (if he can recruit her) will understand the risks and the stakes, knows she already has connections of her own, and isn't afraid to get her hands dirty.

One thing is for certain, should he find out, General Skywalker will kill him.

[swfanficbyjz]

SW AU - Ahsoka Stays in the Order - Ch. 1

To be honest, this was one of the AU’s that I never wanted to write even though I was convinced that things would have happened a lot differently if she’d stayed rather than leave at the end of Season 5, but I also knew if she stayed, it wouldn’t have been happy. But then I read a long post about how someone was completely convinced that Anakin still would have fallen if she’d stayed and I wanted to prove them wrong... Well... From everything I’ve seen and read about Ahsoka, I don’t truly believe she would have stayed with the Jedi very long even if she didn’t walk away at that particular moment, but at least this way, maybe actually trying to communicate what was going on to Anakin might have changed enough? We’ll see...

Chapter 1:

"They're asking you back, Ahsoka." He tried to hide his excitement because the council was watching. "I'm asking you back."

She looked up at him as he reached out his hand. She didn't understand how he couldn't see it. How the person she trusted most of all, didn't seem to have a clue how broken she was right now. She looked down at the padawan beads in his outstretched palm and then back at his face. He gave a reassuring smile, and a look that told her he didn't understand why she was hesitating. 

If the council wasn't standing behind him, she might have taken him by the arms and shaken him. Wake up, wake up! How can you be so blind? But she didn't dare. It probably wouldn't get the result she wanted anyways. She swallowed and reached out for the beads. She didn't want to stay. Not after what happened. She wanted to stay with him of course, he was her best friend. She didn’t know where else would she go. She had nothing. Only a couple friends outside the order. She had no money. No career other than as a Jedi. The only thing she knew how to do was fight and follow orders, the latter being what concerned her the most. 

Feeling as though she didn't really have a choice, she finally took the beads from his hand and clipped them back to her headpiece. Maybe not today, but soon, she was going to need to have a talk with him. Hopefully... he'd listen then.

"Welcome back, Snips!" Anakin put his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, let's go get your lightsabers." He started heading to the door. Her eyes followed him, but she didn't move immediately. 

"Good to have you back, Little 'Soka," Master Plo said. She curled her lips and gave a small nod. 

"You've been through quite the ordeal," Obi wan said, stepping forward to set his hand briefly on her shoulder. She tried to hide the flinch at the words that told her he couldn't at all see what they'd done to her.  Try as she might she still tensed at his touch. He released her immediately. "You should get some rest." 

Yeah, rest. Like that would fix it. She couldn't stand it anymore and she fled the room. Even if Anakin was blind to what she was feeling right now, at least he was the only one that had stood up for her. So, she'd rather be with him than anyone else at the moment. Most especially the council. 

"You must be exhausted," he said as she took stride next to him. She stared at her feet and dropped her shoulders a fraction further than they'd already been. What was she doing? Why did she stay? It felt like the weight of the world had settled there and nobody felt it but her. Hadn't anybody heard what Bariss said? She didn't agree with all of it, but it did give her pause. Instead, everywhere she looked, they were all just going about their business as though nothing was wrong. It seemed to her that it had never been more glaringly obvious that something was wrong. 

Whether it was what Bariss had said, that all the Jedi cared about anymore was violence, or something else. Whatever it was, it was definitely wrong. "Yeah, I guess so," she whispered. She was tired, but she doubted sleep would come. She wanted to be alone, but then again, not really. 

"What's wrong, Snips?" he asked, stopping near the door to his room. She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't know what was wrong. That was the problem. It was there, buried deep inside her, eating her from the inside out. But she had no idea how to articulate it. She felt betrayed. She felt lost. She felt like she was sinking. That waves of something were crashing over her, trying to drown her. She felt... empty and confused. Like every ounce of confidence, she'd ever possessed had been completely and utterly shattered beyond repair. She felt sick.

"I have to go to the restroom!" She raced away before he could stop her as she fell to her knees inside the stall. She heaved several times, but nothing came up. She dropped her face on her arms, crying as though a dam had burst behind her eyes. She stared at the slightly off smelling water, the rippling reflection of who she was. It was nothing like what she wanted to be. She looked as hollow as she felt. 

Everything should be alright. She'd been proven innocent. She'd been freed from prison. She'd been returned to the order. She still had a home. A purpose. Everything. And yet at the same time, it felt like she had nothing. 

"Ahsoka?" He knocked on the door. She had him, of course. That was something, she supposed. But she doubted even in his infinite wisdom and skill that he could fix what was the matter now. "Are you okay?" She didn't respond. No, she wasn't okay! Couldn't he see that? Or at least sense it? "If you don't answer, I'm coming in." Great, just what she needed. 

"I'm fine," she squeaked. Yeah, that totally sounded convincing. 

She heard the door open. "Hey!" 

"You said if I didn't answer!" She tried to work some sass back into her tone. "Get out, this is the ladies restroom!" She tried to push him back out the door, but he dug in his heels. 

"Are you crying?" He put his hands up, so she couldn't get him through the door way. No shit. 

"Just go away, please!" she begged. 

"Why are you crying?"

"Why are you so stubborn? Get out! Go!" She peeled his fingers off the door frame and shoved him out in the hall, locking the door behind him. 

"Snips!" he pounded on the door. She sunk to the floor and cried until her eyes hurt. He didn't go away. She could still feel him out there. "I will cut through this door if I have to," he said. 

"Skywalker!" Came Shaak Ti's familiar voice. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, master," he said quickly and she almost laughed picturing him fumbling in front of her. Almost, but she didn't. 

"Pounding on the restroom door counts as nothing?" 

"Ahsoka is in there..." he trailed off and she could only assume master Ti had given him a stern look. 

"Well it is a restroom, so I imagine she has business to attend to. Wait for her to come out rather than making a scene in the hallway."

"Yes, master," Anakin replied. He didn't say anything for awhile so she assumed there were other people still within earshot. She knew he was still there though. She secretly wished this restroom had another way out. 

She looked around and noticed that there was a grate near the top of the far wall. She got up to go look at it closer. It was pretty tight, but she might still fit. If only her head would stop growing. When she'd left the council room, she'd wanted to be with him, but now... now she wanted to be alone. He was going to pester her until she told him what the problem was and until she knew what the problem was, it was going to hurt even more having to dodge all his questions. 

She closed her eyes and used the force to pull the grate off the wall. Then she carefully climbed up onto the sink and tried to awkwardly shimmy her way into the narrow shaft. There were a few times that she was sure she was stuck but she somehow managed to get herself free. She had no idea how long it took to get to the bigger ducts, having to wiggle her way along barely an inch at a time. She was getting way too big for this. At least focusing on getting through the ventilation shaft kept her mind occupied on something other than everything else.

Finally, in an area she could crawl, she found the nearest exit and dropped down into the hallway, thankfully nowhere near the entrance to the restroom. She ran the rest of the way to her room and threw herself down on her bed. 

She tossed and turned well into the night, but sleep refused to comfort her. She checked the time, it was well past midnight. She still didn't know how to answer Anakin, but she decided she didn't want to be alone anymore tonight or her fear and doubts were going to destroy her. 

She got up and crept her way to his room, hoping nobody noticed her. The halls were mostly empty at this hour, and the few wanderers like herself were spread thin throughout the temple. There were no rules as to when you were allowed to wander the hallways, but it always felt like she'd get in trouble if she were caught. Especially if she was caught going to his room. 

She knocked but there was no answer, and fearing someone would notice her if she made too much noise, she let herself in. His bed was empty, made as though he hadn't slept in it at all. Where was he? Well, she didn't have the energy to look all over for him tonight, so she curled up on the floor near the bed and tried to draw on his residual energy in the room for some peace. It helped a little and eventually she drifted off.

Chapter 2 ->

[fanfictin]

3-2

“nothing as of yet” “Only you could be worried about the ships i already shot down”

aw duel fights, anaking again weird sith lady and obiwan ofc against grevious

i love how they just fuckin kick each other. they have lightsabers and guns but they also hit. pfft. she just straight up kicked anakin in the face. nice.

3-4

“Should you really proceed without the council’s approval” padme “We do it all the time. Don’t we, Snips?”  “Yep.” padme, quieter “I can’t believe they let you teach” anaking looks so smug,, pfft

3-6

“Master obiwan caused trouble? that’s a first.” “ugh” (he just Does Not want to Talk  about it rip. dont make anakin talk abt it ahsoka) “Just give me the lightsaber”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt” “Nothing you wouldn’t have done” ahshsjflfsj ahsoka you’re killing your master ahsoka

3-7

“If I’m not with you, who else will watch your back?” oh ahsoka she cares for her master

3-10

(anakin should go to hang out w obiwan like My wife took my padawan and i have nothing to do)

3-12

star fighting duo,, i love their red and yellow ships. “Anakin! I’m going to need help!!” yes for asking for help

yes for fighting ventrress together

3-14

“so much for not starting something” “Hey don’t look at me!” they’re so dumb i love them fighting together

did anakin just do the salute thing that obiwan does???

obiwan w the hand on anakin’s shoulder briefly,, pls

with the holding anakin back again--

didnt that thing just land on them-- okay i guess jedi are impervious to crush injuries

“We’ll take him together” “RIght.” crey

3-15

DISASTER TRIO ADVENTURE AGAIN???!! YES

anakin is so fucking dramatic and petty i love it

all black out and all wake up. fun times. theyre just Who landed the ship

“we’ll be fine. as long as we stay together” thanks obiwan, now yu’re definitely not going to stay together

rockfall seperate! a favourite trope!!

anaking he’s just asking if youre alright and didnt get crushed by the rocks,, theyre no need to be so dramatic and angsty-- ankin pls obiwan just cares---

“is it true he is the chosen one” -activate obiwan protective mode- “What do YOU know of such things??” also why does ahsoka have 2 lightsabers--

lol he just turned into a bat. that’s pretty cool yo.

oh-- this is basically the crystal cave! hm. that’s not good. and a ghost quigon talking to obiwan? weird. “I’ve trained him as well as i could” bless

oooo they’re all having visions. nice.

“I think anakin may be in trouble” ahsoka i love you

eh that was pretty cool. many troubled anakin codas could be writen after that. nice.

3-16 

oh it’s still them! anakin is sleepin,, bless him

oh nice. action. “was it a nightmare” oh ahsoka. love it. and yes it was but now it’s reality.

another crash landing, nice. “I didnt think you saw it” o “it was a GIANT TOWER of COURSE i SAW IT” a

the SHOULDER stop. nice. and he didnt listen. of course.

well yeah climbing is hard work. stop being so dramatic anakin.

“you might want to check up on him” thanks bad guy, obiwan will do just that

okay that was cool. asoshka is fine now, anakin is n’t glowing any more, they’re going to head off.

3-17

continuation? whoa

they’re just chillin in their ship. “You did well anakin. how do you feel?” thanks obiwan that helps 

whelp bye anakin

aw waking asokha and giving her tea,, bless obewan

“Wheres. anakin.” protective master mode activated

“Look after the ship, i’m going to find anakin” ahsokas just like well ok then bye obiwan

oh it’s literally just rots foreshadowing premonitions, cool.

“anakin. are you alright?” no definitely not, in the bad side rn, but we’ll catch up with your worried tone later

okay yeah just nake him collapse again that’s fine. you guys are worse than the angels in spn

“are you alright” yes thanks for asking again, fine now master

okay yeah just throw em away that’s fine. yknow getting thrown on the floor hurts more than you think in like real life

okay sure that’s fine. just white out and wake up on the ship. sure.

3-18

“You’re just being protective again” why yes, yes he is.

“you either Do or Die. and that’s not a risk i’m willing to share.” oh. anakin pls that’s such a good quote.

fucking incredible “I must have carbon sickness bc i could swear that’s Ahsoka” “Your eyes are fine. it’s ahsoka’s HEARING that needs helps”

also oh my GOSH this is that gifset i’ve had in my likes FOREVER. the one where obiwan just fuckin snaps his head around to listen to ahsoka and just goes “I see anakin’s new teaching method is to do as i say not as i do” fuckin savage

i also like the return of Snips as the nickname, and quite often too - i imagine in fic they must have had a talk from when possessed ahsoka said she hated the name

aw ahsoka being teensy. also that’s a very ellie and joel thing. opening the door from the other side and the mentor being grumpy. nice.

well that was fun. snakin got sucked to the roof as well bc of his mental arm pfffttt and got hismelf down while being elecetrocuted. cool.

3-19

“sorry I’m late” a “how nice of you to join us” o Anakin don’t smirk at that. don’t smirk like that at your master.

see i knew that would hit you. now youre hittign the ground again aniakin. that shit hurts you know

3-20

no-- this is not how you use grenades- you have to save them for the shield enemies-- have you never playyed unhcharted---

you cant just burn his body in lava-- okay you did it. well. at least you used the force together.

anyway this is a pretty cool episode i guess. continuation, less h/c but still good.

3-21

ahsoka and anakin mission!-- never mind they’re spitting up. sigh.

okay well this episode is called padawan lost so. i’m sure she’ll be found. also this is literally just the hunger games.

aww what a nice reunion, that was sweet

“Thank you, master.” “You’re welcome. My padawan” pls stop,, anakin and ahsoka are too cute

4-1

oh nakin got his helmet off underwater and snips got it for him just “you call for backup?” and he just “I HAD it under control snips” while he’s coughing up water still ah,, them. also “Ha! I knew you’d say that”

4-3

this water level has gone on for 3 episode so far,,,,

you can’t, electrocute someone underwater-- oh well fine. that’s just anakin’s luck isn’t it.

4-4

wow anakin’s so used to lightening that it takes quite a bit to knock him out rip

whoa will padme trade grevious for anakin? yes. probably. esp when he’s being lighteninged even when unconscious. that’s rude.

okay anakin yeah wake up just when padme pulls you into her arms. and then she helps him walk,, bless.

4-7

the duo are back! oh is this the one where obiwan fakes his death bc i know that’s coming and i am not enthused.

4-11

oh wow that was very sudden. Anger Anakin appears and obiwan tells him to CHILL basically then when ahsoka asks, obiwan admits anakin was a slave and ahsoka says she’ll keep an eye on him,, they love so much

hey dont throw obiwan around like that, he’s an old man

anakin and ahsoka duo lookin for bombs

that was fun. anakin almost fell out of the ship. always good.

4-12

anger anakin abt slaves. nice. even mentioning his mother.

“Looks like i have to rescue you again, old man.” “I knew you’d have a backup plan”

well they all got electrocuted to unconsciousness. good plan gang.

4-13

and there anakin goes getting electrified by dooku again. sigh.

“Anakin, i’m please to see you” aw even beatne down obiwan is there

that was a good mission.

4-15 ah this one is called Deception so i’m guessing it’s the deception arc where obiwan fakes his death. ouch. anger anakin is definitely going to be back.

yes ouch. that hurt. 

this is just fasttrack anikan to the dark side run by killing his master

“Everyone knows how close we are. it was his reaction that sold it” this is fucking rude. but true. still very rude.

4-16

“He killed my master. My best friend.” oh dear. ouchies.

anyway chancellor palpatine is here now to continue anakin’s fast  track to the darkside by killing his brother

well at least he went with ahsoka. ..how long does this arc last....

aw well at least he still cares. ha. accidently knocks anakin off then hurries off to make sure he’s okay, then chokes him out. just normal stuff.

ahsoka straight up standing over anakin soul eater maka and soul style ,,, oh my

“Obiwan is still alive” and ahsoka helps him back to the ship. good for them.

4-17

hey well THANKS for telling anakin that yoda. so useful. so great to know. nice how you all killed his master in front of him for a plan. cool. he’ll brush that off.

4-18

yep anakin’s still pissed. honestly good for him.

“Hopefully i’ll be where i always am” a “he means saving the day” ah no he means next to obiwan

obiwan watching over them from a sniper,, aw

“Mace, Anakin’s down” he’s still looking out,, crey

well that wasn’t a fyll on yell but it was a telling off. good foryou anakin. yelling at your oncedead master is fine for a bit.

oooo surprise end twist! anakin facing dooku

obiwan running to help anakin and stopping to make sure he’s alright,, but points lost for still being in disguise

4-21

anakin and ahsoka go to a diner. that’s it that’s this episode.

“Master? Anakin?” Ahsoka trying to get his attention when he’s worrying quiet :)

okay so darth maul is alive apparently

4-22

haha obiwan getting the shit beaten out of him and saved by ventress then using a red lightsaber. hilarious.

[charity-angel]

Brothers (4/?)

[Part 1]   [Part 3]

[Read on AO3]

There is a cut in this post

It took Padmé a month to get back to him.

“Master Jedi,” she said. Her words were formal but her tone warm. It was early morning there: her hair was done, but her face was still unmade.

“Your majesty,” Obi-Wan replied, keeping his face straight and his voice even. “How are you?”

“I am well, thank you, and my planet is rebuilding. And you? How are you and your fellow saviours of Naboo?”

He sat heavily in the desk chair, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Master Qui-Gon is recovering slowly. He’s not on his feet yet, but he can sit up without assistance, and he stays awake for six consecutive hours now. And Anakin… He’s adjusting. He’s catching up, but he’s frustrated. He wants to be like everyone else – to be able to keep up with the initiates and other padawans.”

Padmé clasped her hands and leaned forwards, toward the holo pick-up. “He will catch up, won’t he?”

“Oh yes,” Obi-Wan assured her. “He learns quickly. But it’s not fast enough for his own expectations, and I wonder…”

“What?”

“I wonder if he would be better off with someone else fostering him,” he confessed. “An actual master. I’m…” He tugged on his braid. “I’m still a padawan.”

“That, Master Jedi, is a technicality,” Padmé pointed out. “You and I both know that you are not ‘still’ anything. You’re just a new parent. My mother told horror stories to put my sister and I off having children – we were horrific little shits, and we didn’t have the excuse of Anakin’s start in life. You’ll adapt. It will get easier. And if you Jedi have a manual for raising padawans, it won’t cover everything. It won’t even be close, or so my mother assures me. I’m sure you’re doing just fine.”

He laughed weakly. “Master Qui-Gon said something similar. That he’s pretty sure that any master would find Anakin a challenging padawan because of his background – probably more so, because at least I have Anakin’s trust.”

Padmé smiled beatifically at him. “You see. If he still trusts you after a month, you’re clearly not doing too bad a job. And I have some news that is guaranteed to cheer him up.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan suddenly straightened, which made Padmé laugh at him. “What?”

“His mother arrived here late last night. She is safe and well, if not somewhat baffled by her change in fortune.”

“That is truly excellent news,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ll let Anakin know when he returns from his classes. Would it be possible for me to comm you in…” he glanced at the chrono “… two and a half hours?”

Padmé gave a serene smile. “For this, anything is possible. I suppose, however, it would be too disruptive to pull Anakin out of school for a visit here?”

Obi-Wan pulled a face. “It… That, and I don’t want to leave Qui-Gon. He’s improving, but…”

“It is just as well that I have arranged a state visit to Coruscant for next week then,” she informed him, dropping into those slightly more formal tones that were laced with teasing. “Our new senator is due to take up his post, and it would be prudent for me to visit our new Chancellor too. After all, I have not formally congratulated him on his office, and he is Naboo. It seems impolite for such an oversight to continue further.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, making his face go bland, like Qui-Gon did when he was negotiating. “That would be a dreadful breach of etiquette. Would Miss Skywalker be part of your retinue?”

“If she so wishes,” Padmé said. “I will not force her, although I suspect she will be there with me, one way or another. I do suspect that she will entirely hate being my honoured guest: that would bring far too much attention to her.”

Obi-Wan had never met Shmi Skywalker, but he imagined that Padmé was right – having spent a lifetime in slavery, having to give up food so that her son could eat, suddenly being elevated to the ‘honoured guest’ of the Queen of Naboo would be a bit overwhelming.

“I am certain you will find a way,” he said. “Anakin will be so pleased to see her. He misses her.”

She sighed. “I know how he feels. My position demands a lot of me; I haven’t seen my parents or my sister for months. I talked to them just after the battle, to make sure they were okay, but…”

“I often felt like that when Master Qui-Gon and I were on an extended mission – we would be away from the Temple for months, and I wouldn’t hear from my friends. Even when we got back, there was the possibility that they would be away themselves. I didn’t see Garen for a year when we were seventeen, and we only managed to communicate in the occasional vid message. Master Qui-Gon used to nag at me to hurry up whenever we were rushing out and I needed to leave a message, then he would tell me that he used to do the same when he was a padawan, because friends are worth making time for. I imagine that family are the same.”

Padmé’s expression flickered to something Obi-Wan was familiar with – the confused/horrified/pitying realisation of one outside the Order that Jedi didn’t have families of their own – and then to a soft smile.

“Your wisdom cannot be faulted, Master Jedi,” she told him, the shining of her eyes apparent even in the holo. “I should make time for my family, even if it is just messages. They have always been there for me, and will continue to be once my tenure as queen is over.”

“Indeed, your majesty.”

Padmé laughed and reached forward, her hand making a peculiar flicking motion. Oh! She had tried to nudge his holographic self!

“And you say you’re ‘just a padawan’, oh wise one,” she scolded him, giggling.

Obi-Wan gave in to a chuckle. “And you, your majesty, just tried to nudge a hologram.”

She made a little noise of distress. “I was hoping you hadn’t noticed that.”

“My silence is yours, my friend.”

Padmé straightened her face admirably. “Naboo thanks you for it.”

.oOo.

Anakin, predictably, was extremely excited by the fact that his mother was free, and spent a long time talking to her, telling her how he was spending his time at the Temple, how much he had learned. Obi-Wan slipped out after five minutes to fetch his and Anakin’s lunches, realising that this was going to take some time.

Anakin was still in full flow when he returned.

“…but it’s okay, because Obi-Wan is taking care of me and he’s a totally awesome big brother.”

He stepped back and composed himself. He thought of Anakin as his brother, as much as he understood the concept – as much as any Jedi did – but he didn’t realise that it was reciprocated.

Although the slightly insane edge had been taken off, he was still smiling as he put a sandwich and some milk down in front of Anakin.

“… all kinds of things. I can read Aurebesh loads better, and I can find tons of planets on the galactic map. Thanks, Obi-Wan.” He picked up the sandwich and took a huge bite.

“Oh, Mom, this is Obi-Wan…” he began, before being simultaneously scolded by his mother and Obi-Wan, who then exchanged rueful glances.

Shmi Skywalker was not what he had expected at all: given Qui-Gon’s claims that Anakin was the mythical Chosen One, fathered by the Force alone, he had expected Anakin to essentially be a young (male) clone of his mother, but he was anything but. They must have made an extremely striking pair together.

(Honestly, it lent credence to Obi-Wan’s alternative theory, that Anakin was just freakishly Force sensitive – not only did he and his mother look nothing alike, but no-one had been able to explain how a woman gave birth to a son without a father. A daughter might have been believable, but plucking a Y chromosome out of thin air was pushing incredulity, even for the Force.)

She was giving him an embarrassed, exasperated kind of smile. “I apologise for my son,” she said. “I swear I raised him with better manners than that.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head, stifling a smile. “He had not yet embarrassed you in public, Ms Skywalker.”

Shmi looked startled by something, but covered it swiftly. “I shall thank the Force for small mercies. My name is Shmi, Master Jedi.”

“I am but a padawan learner, Shmi,” Obi-Wan corrected, “the same as your son. My name is Obi-Wan.”

Anakin swallowed swiftly. “You’re only a padawan because you’re refusing to be knighted,” he piped up. “Everyone knows it.”

There was laughter in the background at the Naboo end, and Shmi covered her mouth to hide her smile.

“He’s right,” Padmé’s voice said, from a distance. She was clearly sitting out of range of the pickup for the holocam, but close enough to have heard Anakin’s proclamation. “Obi-Wan is technically a Jedi Knight, if not yet officially.”

Shmi snickered. “I should scold Anakin, but if he is right then… I always taught him to be truthful whenever it was safe.”

Obi-Wan was in too good a mood to let the fact they were ganging up on him rattle him. “My master will knight me when he capable of standing on his own two feet for long enough to complete the ceremony,” he informed them serenely. “Until then, he can revel in the fact that he is rebelling against the Council by having more than one Padawan simultaneously.”

.oOo.

That afternoon’s practice went surprisingly well, all things considered. Obi-Wan had assumed that Anakin would be distracted by thoughts of his mother, but instead he seemed more settled. He was excited about the idea of seeing her, certainly, but there was a kind of quietude that had been lacking. Meditation went like a dream, and their sparring session went so well that Obi-Wan ended up having to throw in some Ataru moves to keep Anakin on his toes. That in itself just made Anakin blink and adapt.

“That was excellent, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said at the end, when he stopped cheating and let Anakin beat him fair and square. “I think tomorrow we should start looking at some other forms.”

“Can we do Ataru, like you and Master Qui-Gon use?” Anakin asked, beaming as he towelled the sweat from his back.

Obi-Wan considered it. “Normally one studies Makashi after mastering Shii-Cho, but I will ask Master Qui-Gon if we can skip it. I honestly doubt it would suit you anyway.”

Anakin was clearly pleased, but he wasn’t smug about his achievements today, nor did he ask about a trip to Ilum, as Obi-Wan had been convinced he would. All in all, he was shockingly relaxed.

“Mom’s safe,” Anakin said, out of the blue as they were preparing to go to evening meal, back in their quarters. His shrewd eyes were studying Obi-Wan carefully – a slightly disconcerting expression on his young brother padawan. “I know she’s with Padmé, not back on Tatooine.”

He left it at that, leaving Obi-Wan confused and pondering over it. He resolved to speak to Qui-Gon about it once Ani was asleep.

Unfortunately, because he excited himself all over again telling Qui-Gon about the good news, it took a long time for Anakin to settle, and Qui-Gon had dozed off by the time Obi-Wan was able to return to the Halls. He roused before Obi-Wan could tiptoe away.

“Get your rest, Master,” he said softly from the doorway as Qui-Gon blinked sleepily at the bright light in his room.

Qui-Gon gave him a rueful look. “It looks like I probably should while I have the chance.”

Obi-Wan crossed the small room and slumped into the seat with a loud sigh.

“He had been somewhat excitable this afternoon,” he admitted. “Although he was much more calm earlier, while we were training. It’s almost like he stopped trying to spar, and just listened to the Force.”

Qui-Gon’s moustache twitched; a sure-fire sign that he was trying not to laugh. Obi-Wan wished he had the energy left to appreciate the joke.

“Oh, I know: ‘Do or do not’. I’ve never seen such a stark example of it.

“He suggested that it’s to do with his mother,” he added, deciding that he was going to bother his master with this after all. “Because he knows she’s free. Do you think that perhaps he was pushing himself so hard so that he would be able to return to Tatooine? To rescue his mother?”

Qui-Gon gave him a calculating look.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asked after a short pause. “If I were stuck there, trapped?”

“I…” Obi-Wan stopped and considered it carefully, rather than giving the dutiful response about obeying the rule of the Council. Then something occurred to him; a nudge from the depths of his memory.

“I did exactly that, eleven years ago.”

“You did indeed. And I am still extremely grateful.”

Obi-Wan nodded, feeling more at ease now with the situation. “Yes, I understand. I felt much better once you were home safely.”

“Anakin is just more exuberant in his relief than you are,” Qui-Gon said, smiling outright now.

“Speaking of exuberance,” Obi-Wan said, “do I have your permission to begin training Ani in Ataru? I think he is better suited to it than Makashi.”

Qui-Gon stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I can’t see why not. If he has a sufficient grasp of Shii-Cho to defeat you, then he is more than ready to move on. And I agree that he seems ill-suited to a discipline as conservative as Makashi.”

He sighed deeply. “At this rate, I will have little to do by the time I am free of this infernal place.”

Obi-Wan gave him a stern look. “You could have seen a mind healer about your experiences on Simpla-12.”

Qui-Gon waved a dismissive hand. “We were always too busy for that.”

“You’re not too busy now,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “How many holodramas can you watch without seriously endangering your mental health?”

Qui-Gon’s expression tightened, almost slightly fearful. “I made a mistake and watched a couple of those serials that the broadcast networks show during the day.”

“Oh dear.”

“I have read instead,” Qui-Gon said. “Did you know that there have been novels published about the Jedi Order? They’re wildly inaccurate and all the more entertaining for it.”

Obi-Wan smothered a grin. “I think I know the ones you mean. Garen likes to read the most ridiculous sections aloud. The tragic thing is that he has read every single novel from start to finish: apparently the stories themselves are entertaining.”

“They’re reasonable,” Qui-Gon allowed. “I think some of our mission reports would be more compelling through.”

Now there was an amusing idea. “Perhaps you should write some of the less politically sensitive ones into a format that would appeal to the masses? That would certainly occupy your time.”

Qui-Gon swatted at him, laughing.

“While I do get a certain amount of pleasure from irritating the Council, I have no desire to incite them to actually throw me out of the Order.”

Obi-Wan smirked. “Also, you’re an appalling writer,” he pointed out. “You gave me the job of writing the reports eleven years ago.”

“Oh, that’s because your reports make the Council twitch. Occasionally I feel sorry for whoever has to read them.”

Obi-Wan knew this. He was well aware that the Council, while initially glad that Qui-Gon had ceded that particular responsibility to his padawan, it was a short-lived feeling. Obi-Wan gained a certain perverse pleasure in writing incredibly verbose, in-depth reports in the full knowledge that someone on the Council had to read the whole thing.

“Mandalore was a fun one to submit.” Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon’s eyes, and they both sniggered at the memory of Obi-Wan dropping a thick, filthy book of actual paper leaves into Master Windu’s unsuspecting hands, and Master Yoda’s cackled reassurance that they would not be asked to submit a formal digital report considering how long they had been gone for, and the lengths that Obi-Wan had clearly gone to in order to provide them with any documentation of their year-long absence from the Temple.

It wasn’t the first report that Obi-Wan had submitted with certain, potentially salient pieces of information missing, but it was the one and only time he had done to protect himself. It wasn’t just himself, though: Satine would have been mightily unimpressed had he included absolutely everything that had happened. And, had that information gotten out, it would significantly hamper her efforts to bring peace to her world.

New Apsolon had been the first. Obi-Wan had realised that perhaps it wasn’t in Qui-Gon’s best interests for Obi-Wan to disclose exactly what he suspected. Master Windu knew that there were things missing or glossed over (having been there himself for the latter half of the mission), but he never questioned it. Perhaps he too had decided that there was little point dredging up things like that when one half of the potential couple had perished.

“I read that one,” Qui-Gon admitted, bringing Obi-Wan back to the present. “It got scanned into the archives. It was certainly a different style to your usual.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “It had to be. But just think, once you’re back in the field, you’ll have to write all your own reports again.”

Qui-Gon grinned. “Maybe I’ll get you to train Anakin to do it.”

Obi-Wan wagged a finger at him, but it was somewhat lacking in energy. “He’s got other things to be learning right now. Written methods of torturing the Council can wait. Especially since we really need to keep them on side right now about him.”

“Good point,” Qui-Gon conceded. “Maybe I’ll just have to go back to having everyone sigh at mine instead.”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said, summoning the energy to rise from the seat. Keeping up with Anakin was catching up with him, and he felt almost as tired as Qui-Gon looked. “I’ll see you in the morning. Behave yourself.”

[Part 5]