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memoiich · 5 months

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Obi wan Headcanons my lord? feed the poor

God, I have a lot of them .I'm going to split this up in a few parts just because it makes sense . Strap in !!!

Part 0: baby obi wan

His parents noticed that he was a surprisingly bright child, and since they were farmers from stewjon, they weren’t well off. When they had their second child (a son) they brought obi wan to a near by testing unit on the neighbour planet Klommet , in hopes of giving both him and his brother a better chance at survival.

Obi wan was tested at the age 1 and a half. He was clearly gifted but nothing special.

He used to cry a lot when he first got to the jedi temple. Most jedi got rather annoyed at the younglings crying, except one ,qui gon jin .

Qui gon voluntured a lot at the creshe , he believed that crying children needed confort not a lecture. Obi wan got attached to qui gon rather quickly as a 2 year old ( qui gon looks a bit like his late dad)

As he grew up , he got along well with the other children and formed close friendships with them ( po ,kit ,quinlan) . Seeing this, qui gon went back to helping the new kids.

Part 1 : padawan years

Obi wan is rather talented at most things, not on a “ WOW YOU’RE THE BEST “ way but more like a “…that shouldn’t go so easily “ . He picks things up quickly, which causes him to be rather inpatient. Not impulsive, he doesn’t rush he simply hates waiting. That's why he hates meditating. He doesn’t understand it.

He doesn’t know it but when discussing who would get which apprentice , his name fell quite a few times . Obi wan likes to learn and so many suspect that he would be a nice well behaved padawan.

He was so happy when they informed him that qui gon would be his master . Qui gon had always stood out as the nicest jedi , not that the others weren’t but he had seemed to understand obi wan a bit more.

The first thing qui gon asked of him was to meditate. Obi wan started stressing immediately, and it went pretty bad in the beginning. Qui gon thought it was hilarious how quickly he was distracted. “ the wall paper does not need your attention right now “ he would quip or “ breathe through your nose and dont rush it” . It took obi Wan's a year to truly be able to meditate properly.

Luckily time wasn’t wasted because his fight skills and knowledge were unmatched.

Piloting took some getting used to. Not only was he scared of heights , but he also wasn’t a fan of rollercoasters. Qui gon always noted how slow he was . “ If you keep flying like this, we won't get there before im 60 “ or “ we can always walk , it might be faster” . But his master did help him, he would go to more desserted planets with obi wan . The planets that even if he would fly faster, he couldn’t hit anything . Obi wan got his red piloting bead 5 months later with the promise to let go a little.

He picks up quickly with missions , like i said he’s a natural . His first mission was a bit stressful but after that hes pretty much set . Also when they get back to their ship , qui gon cooks a home cooked meal because hes not going to let obi wan live on war rashens and blue milk.

He also teaches him how to cook

Obi wan starts feeling a bit quilty because he starts thinking of qui gon as his dad since well he is a little. But the jedi code says no attachments and he will follow that . Until he has a nervous breakdown because if qui gon is a jedi master that follows the jedi code he probably doesn’t care about him , he ends up getting in quite a lot of danger on a mission because of this . When he confesses to qui gon why he did all that he doesn’t respond,he just pulls his padawan into a hug . “ you are my kid obi wan “

When he turns 20 , he starts to really push qui gonn to let him take his trials. He just wants to be a jedi master.

That all changes a bit when he meets the dutches of mandelore Satine . He falls inlove quickly but he’s a real coward about it ( Satine notices) . Satine ends up pulling him into a kiss 2 months later at a gala she had to attend. They had a night together……

Qui gonn knows 100% . He finds it hilarious how his bumbling fool of a padawan got himsel into this mess . He prepares for the inevitable “ im leaving the order “ not that he wants him to . Obi wan is just that kinda kid .

When he sees obi wan the next morning, he looks like he cried acts rather somber and asks when they are leaving . Qui gon figures out what happened but doesn’t say anything. They leave and he gives him some space .

For the next 2 years it all goes smoothly until…

Part 2: early Anakin years

Obi wan isn’t too happy with the orphan. They are on a dangerous mission in the middle of who knows where with the queen of a planet that’s about to die . And now they have Ani , he wasn't going to lie it was a sweet child . But why now.

Obi wan has a quiet panic attack when qui gon says he will take anakin as his apprentice . He doesn’t feel ready to take the trials since his self esteem plummeted a bit after the Satine debacle and no one helped him take care of that ( fuck the jedi council) .

During the flight back to Naboo, padme went to her room and qui gon had a call with the council, leaving obi Wan to babysit ani . The child would yap non stop “ Did you make your own lightsaber?” “Yes” “can i hold it?” “No” “ when do i get mine?” “ When you're ready” “ but i am ready” “ no you’re not “ “yes i am “ “ no you’re not “ “ Did you choose THAT color?” “ Yes, i did” “ It's kinda ugly” “…” . A true test of patience but strangly lovable.

About 2 hours later was when the child fell asleep next to obi Wan . Anakin was still shivering , tattooine was a warm planet, something the ship heaters couldn’t compete with. Obi wan draped his long outer coat over the boy in hopes of giving him some warmth . Seeing the child peacefully asleep, Obi wan realised why his master liked him.

It took 48 hours to get to Naboo . It also took 48 hours for Obi wan to look at Anakin as his little brother.

When he first sees Maul he’s scared . He doesn’t want to be, but he simply is . Back in school him and his friends would joke about the sith and how cool it would be to defeat one . Right now , face to face with the first sith in ages , he’s horrified, and the red zebrak seems to kick on it

All he hears are the red force feels buzzing . He doesn’t hear his own scream or the blood dripping from his master . He feels an immense amount of pain, but the moment those shields lay down, he's up . He only focuses on gett to his master in time .And when he’s hanging in the hole , he snaps back into his jedi mind. The sith shows a new hubris, and he sees his chance. He wins

When qui gonn tells him his final wish , he can only lie to him . He doesn’t feel fit to be a master ,he might be the only jedi who pased the old trials ( to kill a sith ), but he feels like a fraud to weak to safe his master. Qui gon passes in his arms and obi wans let the tears fall.

He sees Anakin after he returns from his “trip” and he almost wants to cry again . Anakin looks so confused “ where’s qui gon ?” “ he passed away , anakin” The tears start to well in the little boys eyes, and all that obi can do is pull him into a hug .

The next weeks are quite hard , anakin becomes his padawan, and he becomes a jedi master. They attend qui gons' funeral, and anakins enters the academy since he needs to do both his padawan ship and the basic training. He is a bit pissy about it , but obi Wan cheers him up with home cooked meals .

They are not allowed to go on mission yet together just obi wan alone, and its extremely hard breaking to leave anakin alone .

When they are home together, obi wan pampers the little guy rotten. He brushes and braids anakins hair he buys him miniatuur planes in hopes of getting a better piolet than he is . He helps him with his homework, and he is just a total single dad .

When about a year has passed obi wan realised that he didn't know his birthday so he asked ani and he didn’t know either . They chose marche 5th because its a week from then and obi Wan can plan his birthday.Ani loved it.

Anakin doesn't make a lot of friends in school or anywhere. Which bothers obi Wan greatly , he thinks anakin is a great kid who can do no wrong. It all escalated when a child calls Anakin a slave ( obi wan does not know how they got here )

Obi wan threatens to destroy him to the boys face . He ends up crying, and Anakin isn’t bothered ever again. ( the jedi council was not happy )

And so it pretty much continues for a few years

Part 3: late anakin years

Anakin is now 20 years old, which is double the age he was when obi Wan met him .

Many people think that obi Wan is past his prime, but this man is absolutely ribbed. He has perfect physique, he’s just covered in robes and coats and stuff

He keeps extra kyber crystals around because Anakin keeps losing/breaking his lightsaber

Anakin requested black robes, and the council wouldn’t let him because of the association with the sith, and obi wan was like “ No , let my padawan express himself . Plus, I killed the last sith years ago “ so they let him because nothing is scarier than getting on obi wans' bad side

When they meet padmé again, obi Wan is almost laughing at how bad anakin is hiding his feelings for her . He also realises that he will have to talk to his padawn about it .

Obi wan gets a little stricter over the last year since anakin definitely doesn't think before he does anything

When the council decided to let Anakin go with Padme , he couldn't help but warn anakin once again. He reminds him of the problems that might occur or the heartbreak ( he's definitely not projecting)

When shmi dies, he tries his best to support anakin best he can . He doesn’t remember his parents, but he assumes it's like losing Qui gon, so he does everything he needed back then . Home cooked meals ,hugs ,pep talks, pulling him out of mission….

He noticed from the moment they set foot into the arena that they were together. On the one hand, he was extremely nervous about it, and on the other, he was a bit proud of his boy.

ALSO, he gets that shiver down his spine because he realises that qui gon knew about him and Satine, and he's a bit embarrassed about it .

He doesn't tell it to anakin because just like his master he thinks that it might be better to give them space .

He gets really offended that he wasn't invited to the wedding. He knows it was supposed to be undercover, but please

Padme and anakin will sometimes invite him for dinner as if they aren't dating, and he truly enjoys those evenings together.

He likes padme immensely . She helps to calm anakin down, and she's all around a great person .

She's also the first out of her and anakin to realise that obi Wan knows . Sadly, this happens after the wedding, so now it's like a shared secret.

Now that anakin left the nest , he gets to enjoy hobbies. He starts experimenting with cooking until Kit , Quinlan and Po are so done with it that they start ordering out . Then he gets a pet a feathered veractyle he names boga , when the planet he’s visiting allows it she will be his transport . He also keeps a variety of plants ( they remind him of qui gon) and books .he collects golden trinkets. Anakin jokes that it all goes against the jedi code, but he likes it .

HE ALSO LOVES TO GOSSIP with his clones anakin padme kit po anyone that wants to listen.

Talking about his clones , he loves them dearly not as much as anakin but like coby is one of his closest friends.

212 has tried to give him nicknames before, but it never sticks , they do like saying the negotiator in funny voices .

Obi wan thinks that his clones are the best clones, but it seems that every jedi thinks that.

He is now a jedi council member, and he still has that off feeling that he doesn’t deserve it . His ideas dont link with the others, and he feels that he doesn't have a lot of influence on it . Qui gon was never part of it, and he understands why more and more. He loves being a jedi master but kinda hates the council.

That also makes it really hard for him to help Anakin with his dissatisfaction with his position rn . Being on the council but not a master feels like the worst-case scenario, but he has to help anakin not be pissy, so he does . It is a great honor to be on the council.

He didn't know about padmé being pregnant. So he just thought anakin was so stressed out about his career and the jedi order . After everything happened as it did , he felt that he didn’t support anakin correctly.

Obi wan objected when they wanted anakin to spy on Palpetine . He doesn’t want his boy near any danger and definitely not in the front line . He yells and fights for it until it goes to a vote, just as his seat on the council, obi Wan would leave the council immediately if it meant that Anakin was 100% safe . In the end , the vote goes for the spying and obi wans demands to tell anakin himself. It doesn’t go well, obi Wan feels like he's betraying his brother.

In the coming weeks, he will see the loveable orphan of tatooine change to a traumatized war veteran, and he's not happy about it. He tries to calm him down and speak to him just like he did when shmi died . Sadly, this time, it doesn’t seem to work.

When his clones betray him , he feels fear for the first time since the deul of the faiths . Not only is he in danger, but they are in danger , anakin might be in danger . He feels his life falling from betw his fingers . Boga and some of his dear clones die when he gets back to his ship . He calls to anakin, but he doesn’t pick up . He flies to the temple.

When yoda and him visit the temple, dread fills his mind. He still didn’t receive anything from anakin and was really worried about it . They see the temple lithered with death children, and all he sees are small Anakin's death on the floor . Then they see the footage of the night before, and the world falls beneath him . Anakin is a murderer, a sith, and still his brother . Obi wan chooses to go alone to face him ….

{that one deleted scene }

The deul with anakin is the worst moment of his life. Nothing compares to it . He tries to enter with an open mind and the little voice in the back of his mind telling him to redeem anakin . Sadly hes to far gone. The deul ends with his dying friend near the fire , obi wans whole life in pieces and a almost death padme.

The birth of Luke and leia is a small piece of hope, but padmé passes away . Obi wan has no one anymore.

He's extremely happy with the organas asking to adopt leia, and he himself asks to adopt Luke, but that did not happen because of the circumstances. If the sith starts hunting jedi , Obi wan will be at the top of the list

In the end, he lives near Luke until he grows to be a jedi .

He tries to meditate, but his bond to the force is pretty much broken .

Part 4: obi wan alone

Since moving to Tatooine, he has got some new dreams . He gets flashbacks to his childhood before being a jedi, but the worst once are the anakin once . They all start the same , meeting ani quick flashes through their years together and then Mustafar .

He believes that he killed anakin and that he burnt to death .

He has mixed feelings towards his actions. On the one hand, he as a jedi had to kill him, but as his brother, he is simply broken.

He doesn’t think of himself as a jedi anymore. Over the years, he has come to question the jedi order . For how they treated anakin and ahsoka even padme . He promised to himself that he wouldn’t teach Luke to throw away his emotions.

When darth maul shows up on tattooin, he's in some strange way. Sorry for him . They were both just children raised for war , he wished partly that they could have got Maul out before Naboo or that he wouldn’t hold the anger he had towards him for the death of his father . He took a deep breath and let it go . In the end, Maul died in his arms , the same way he had hoped he would have pulled anakin up after their duel.

He tries to meditate again in hopes of connecting to qui gons' spirit or anakins . He hopes to apologise to anakin to pet his hair and tell him it's alright to get one last evening diner with padmé and Anakin . From qui gon, he just wants comfort a long hug or a smile that shows him he’s proud of his padawan, even a home cooked meal .

He starts working as a butcher for sand whales . In the beginning, he used to walk there, but then lars pointed out that that was really suspicious for the other people in town . So he went shopping for a transport that was nice and easy to maintain . That's how he ends up with his eopie Akkani .

Akkani is a bit of a lazy animal , she just wants to eat and walk and eat again. He's happy he has a pet, tho because he gets a bit lonely.

He keeps all of his jedi things in a chest in his gave , including his own lightsaber and 2 sets of beads . One set is his own padawan braid beads, and the other are anakins . He also has some other stuff such as qui gon' s old kitchen knife and some pictures of his clones scrabs of r2d2 when he needed repairs a feather of boga some model airplanes anakin used to play with and so on. ( NO BURYING IN THE DESSERT I HATE THAT)

He really wants to train Luke, but Lars won’t let him . Which hurts obi Wan a lot . He wouldn’t push Luke to be a soldier like the once before , he would connect him to the force just like qui gon wanted with Anakin .

That's why he started reading up on the ancient scripts about the jedi . He loves the Yawa sellers just because he can buy his books without the empire noticing.

He will wait forever in hopes of setting the universe back to balance for the mistake he made on Mustafar.

This took so long and its not even all of it .( i left out the kenobi series because i didn’t want to rewrite it and i couldn’t figure out how to add to it without rewriting it srry)

Also i wrote a little obi wan reacting to ahsoka being Anakins padawn not that long ago ( link below )

And i left his later relationship with satine and maul out because it might be a bit long . If you want that you can always ask in my requests ( i do have some thoughts about those)

{masterlist}

#this took so long #im fighting demons #writer block #star wars #obi wan kenobi #darth maul #help #writing #headcanon #yippee #qui gon jinn #qui gon and obi wan #anakin skywalker #anakin and obi wan #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you

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liam-neesons-best-girl · 6 months

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Jealousy, Jealousy {Qui-Gon x Reader}

Summary: Qui-Gon is fed up with the way Anakin is acting towards you.

Warnings: jealousy. age gap (reader is in their 20s Qui-Gon is in his 40s), drabble, F! reader, implied dating between Qui-Gon x reader

He knows that you only have eyes for him, so dedicated to him

Qui-Gon has to worry about the young cocky Jedis who try and woo you with their lightsaber tricks and abilities with the force

Anakin Skywalker is the worst culprit, always looking to you for approval in everything he does, trying to impress you

At first, Qui-Gon sees this as harmless, until Ani makes advances

It started with him bringing you flowers after missions, greeting hugs that lingered on too long for Qui-Gon's liking, and the fateful day Qui-Gon entered the temple library to see Ani watching you from afar

You are reaching for a book on the highest shelf and your skirt is rising dangerously high on your soft, fleshy thighs

Qui-Gon saw Anakin's dilated eye and had enough

With the help of the force, Qui-Gon knocked over a couple of books onto Anakin's head as he made his way over to you

"Let me help with that," Qui-Gon said with ease, as he stands tall at 6'4''

After retrieving the books, he kisses you for all to see as you stand atop a step ladder, like a pedestal for the goddess you are to him

Anakin is envious of his Master, jealous he is the only one who can express admiration for you

#liam neeson #liam neeson fan fiction #qui gon jinn #liam neeson x reader #liam neeson fan fic #qui gon jinn x reader #star wars #qui-gon jinn x reader #qui gon #love actually #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #jealous anakin #star wars smut #star wars fanfic

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yandere-wishes · 9 months

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My Star Wars prequels analysis

Ep 1 .... Qui-Gon Jinn is actually so daddy coded, I might die😍😍 Like sir let me be your bbg!!....And he's dead...

Ep2 Jango Fett is totlly daddy matrial. Like he's literally a dilf!!😍...And he's dead too...

Ep3 Count Dooku kinda grows on you. He's like an honary daddy!...Oh,he's dead...

In conclusion Star Wars has a thing aginst dilfs.😤😤

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere x you #star wars #star wars x reader #qui gon jinn #qui gon jinn x reader #count dooku #jango fett #jango fett x reader #star wars headcanons #star wars imagine #yandere aesthetic

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yourneighborhoodporg · 9 months

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The Guardian

Chapter 9: Ancient Implements

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, banter, medical scans/lingo, reference to injuries, exhausted Reader, descriptions of violence, anxious/concerned Obi :(

Summary: Following a rainy conversation, Obi-Wan accompanies you to the Jedi Infirmary in hopes of finding some answers about your condition from Healer Rig Nema. Consequentially, in the face of new discoveries and futile coping mechanisms, the Master Jedi is driven to finally intervene. Through an unconventional strategy, nonetheless.

Song Inspo: Broad-Shouldered Beasts — Mumford & Sons

Words: 9.4k

A/n: Hope everyone celebrating enjoyed New Year’s! Some references to events/thoughts in Star Wars: Wild Space here. No context needed, just some short moments not covered in the Prequels/TCW. So, this chapter very much sets us up for the absolute DOOZY that is the next one, so best to buckle up LOL. My bad about the delay in this one. I had to teach myself brain chemistry 🤪 (sorry to any med students reading in advance). Made up for it in length 💀

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Series Masterlist

The earth laughs in flowers — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Obi-Wan reclined, allowing his back to press against the inner glass of one of the Infirmary’s privacy dividers as he folded his arms snugly across his chest.

Internally, the Master Jedi was hoping to disguise the slight unease that crawled up and down his spine for deep concentration, furrowing his brows as if he’d entered a profound state of thought or meditation.

But no matter how carefully he postured impressions of levelheadedness in the face of your paled features, Obi-Wan couldn’t ignore the low thrum of concern that occasionally tugged on his sternum. He couldn’t help but feel the air around him thicken from newly discovering a weeks-long affliction impacting The Guardian.

Impacting you.

A being, that if ever unwell, could place a critical prophecy in jeopardy.

A being, on account of those responsibilities, he promised to protect.

It was to the point where his steadily swelling desire for some answers had languished passing minutes into what seemed like hours. All while he waited across from you for your examination to be completed.

However, once Kenobi glanced at the chronometer’s green glow on the opposite side of the observation room, he soon realized the actuality of how much time had elapsed. Obi-Wan couldn’t believe it’d only been twenty minutes since he escorted you to the Infirmary. Twenty minutes since you were both welcomed with open arms by one of the Temple’s prime physicians, Master Rig Nema, at the facility’s main entrance.

As a Healer known not to waste time, she immediately submitted an inquiry into why you were visiting. But it wasn’t until Master Nema took in your slightly sluggish form, that the doctor was quick to usher you both into a private cubicle, barely enabling the bearded Jedi to finish his symptomologicol report as he was whisked away alongside you.

Clearly, the presence of painful headaches pervading for weeks on end had stoked the Master Healer’s intrigue just as equally as it steamed Obi-Wan’s smoldering wariness. A fascination so zealous, that she pointed to and instructed the infirmary’s only two available medical droids to carry out a number of cranial scans as you all walked down the hall. Their wheeling bodies materializing by your side once the three of you entered one of the far observation rooms. Whirling and weaving to gather that first set of images before you even had the chance to sit down.

Master Kenobi couldn’t argue with the efficiency with which Master Nema accomplished her work. Nearly all of the ordered scans had been completed in a relatively short time.

But the urgency with which the doctor questioned you, while a whirlwind of droids circled your head like a pack of strike-Vultures, still had the repercussion of stoking Kenobi’s apprehension to the point of slowing down time itself. The longer Master Nema professionally fired query after query while dissonantly beeping droids traveled to and fro, the more Obi-Wan’s mind drifted to the idea that something really was wrong. And his anticipation of that theory swelled enough to knock each minute beyond his reach. As if shore waves towed sequential seconds farther out to sea.

Of course, as a broader consequence, Master Kenobi could already feel the delicate kindling of a faraway guilt emerge in his gut. Especially once he considered his delay in approaching you.

Had he spoken to you sooner, would the doctor have found her concerns to be less pressing? Would the results you were both still awaiting have proven to be more favorable?

But these thoughts only had the effect of stimulating a dull ache throughout Kenobi’s already tensed back, tightening around his spine like sentient vines as your short conversation with Master Nema reached its end.

Even as the Healer excused herself, his constant mix of disquiet and curiosity about your condition drove his eyes to follow the doctor, all the way up until her marbled head crest disappeared around the corner framing the narrowed doorway. As if her vanishing figure held the answers he sought.

Still, your mysterious affliction was not the only item that’d stoked an air of unease in the resting Jedi. Returning to the inside of the Infirmary’s borders had yanked back memories of his last dalliance with its muted decor and antiseptic aroma. The wounds he’d earned from the Battle of Geonosis were tended to by a similar set of droids in the chamber parallel to this one. A sliver of glass scarcely separated him from recollections of bruised ribs, broken bones, and an exceptionally disorienting concussion.

And, transparently, with reminders of discomfort came booming echoes of the harrowing days that bookended that medically invasive afternoon.

Memories he didn’t want to explore again.

Admittedly, in addition to masking this compounding unease, Master Kenobi had other motivations for his steadily declining posture, amplified as he leaned further back into the sturdy, sleek dividers that bordered you both. It happened to also be the only way Master Kenobi could offer you any semblance of space in such a cramped compartment. One that was so obviously designed for a single patient and no visitors.

You were tiredly perched on the infirmary bed’s side, legs dangling loosely. All while the last stubby medical droid completed a few final, even waves around your head with its hand’s built-in scanner. Yet, despite being planted in the opposite corner from the Master Jedi, the two of you still stood mere feet away from each other. A fact that was further highlighted by that same, pesky droid bumbling into Obi-Wan’s resting elbow for the fourth time as it maneuvered between you and the short wall of green luminescent data screens installed to his right.

Indisputably, it would’ve been easier to vacate these tight quarters to solve such a matter.

But Obi-Wan decided against it. He was still reticent to leave you completely alone.

Both of you knew Master Nema would be returning soon. The Healer had assured you that she’d only be gone down the hall for a few minutes to scan your results from the datapad in her private office. Yet, despite this mutual understanding, Obi-Wan immediately clocked from your shifting eyes toward the empty doorway that her brief withdrawal had fueled second thoughts about your decision to come here. This, in combination with the subtly doubting expression that stuck to your face the whole journey here, had easily convinced the Jedi Master that stepping out would’ve electrified that arch as a beacon of escape, driving you to follow those faintly perceptible impulses.

So, hence this observation, Master Kenobi decided it best to instead act as a tenuous deterrent, marking his territory between you and that sweet exit with an additional cross of his legs as he settled further into the glass wall.

The quiet beeps of scanning droids and ding of pinging monitors faded into a duller tone as Obi-Wan released his mind to wander through the events that led up to this point. It was true, that the Master Jedi had long been pondering what exactly was plaguing you in the time since you’d arrived at the Temple.

The bearded man was quite observant, first catching signs of sleeplessness during those few days on the shuttle back. And in those instances, the occasional flicker of despondency that cursorily contorted your features at the mention of his former Master’s name.

But those rare moments had never succeeded in dulling that reassuring spirit and attuned presence he’d become so accustomed to these past few weeks. It’d never challenged the composed strength that saturated your being so absolutely that it leaked from every inch of exposed skin like water from a wringing towel.

At least, not until the last week or so.

It was around then, Obi-Wan soon realized, that something had changed. And while he didn’t quite understand what exactly was occurring, he did know that some undisclosed element was uniformly snatching away threads of light from those two bright, silver eyes of yours. A physical feature that he’d recently registered as having one unintended effect:

They refreshed his senses from a mere glance alone.

Master Kenobi couldn’t deny to himself that after only a month or so of war, he’d become exhausted by not only the newly amplified duties placed upon him, but also by their militaristic, warlike nature. Missions of peace and humanitarianism had quickly devolved into defending free territories from heavily encroaching enemy lines.

The Council meetings that followed only stoked more of the same. Strategizing troop movements, assigning interplanetary campaigns, addressing casualties…

Had Obi-Wan had the ability to expose his former Padawan self to this future, he knew that young Kenobi would’ve never believed that the Jedi could ever be so entrenched in the politics and military responsibilities of a conflict at this scale.

But when he caught a flash of silver reflection from down a hall? At the corner of the refractory closest to his quarters? Near the edge of his vision in the Temple Gardens?

That weight suddenly felt just a little bit lighter.

The General wasn’t entirely sure why he became so overwhelmed with this sensation just at the mere sight of you. A sudden ease, a calmness that permeated his being in a way he’d never been able to summon on the battlefield.

Though he did have a few guesses.

You had always carried an air of serene confidence, of compassionate power, that struck at Obi-Wan’s core. Yes, these were all attributes expected of a Jedi. But your being didn’t simply carry these characteristics, Kenobi maintained. It was as if you had the artistry to will these qualities into existence from deep within your being. Like the vivid, lapping flames that encompass the entire mass of any radiant star.

And, to him, you wielded such strengths with absolute grace.

It was one such instance that Obi-Wan was still trying to wrap his head around. During your first duel with Anakin, the inclusion of one, brief conversation about his emotionally-charged behavior seemed to have knocked more sense into his impatient former Padawan than Kenobi had ever personally precipitated.

When he later inquired about the dialogue, The General readily respected your decision to keep the specifics of the exchange private. But it was when you relayed to him the vague takeaway of the power of compassion that Obi-Wan realized the reality of your statement.

That had he been in your same boots, applying that same dogma, Master Kenobi still wouldn’t have had much success.

The blue-eyed Jedi had always tried to be considerate with his former Padawan. He was hard on him at times, sure. And the two of them certainly had their many rows. But in the end, Obi-Wan always aimed to keep Anakin’s past in perspective.

He’d tried to protect him by teaching him of the importance of letting attachments go. Dispelling his fiery emotions, his ruffled history, and the people that were now a part of his past.

He tried to be a friend to him. A gentle reminder here. A reference to the Code’s importance in the life of any Jedi there. Yet still, the results were never so transformative.

And it was hard for the Master Jedi not to blame himself for that.

Though that load was slightly lifted by the hope your presence imbued.

Truly, Kenobi was thankful that one of Qui-Gon’s previous Padawans had emerged to partially aid him in fulfilling that deathbed promise he’d made to his former Master so long ago. Even if it was during a time following Anakin’s Knighthood.

Training the boy encompassed not only combat, but also the mastery of softer elements pertaining to becoming a wise Jedi capable of realizing The Chosen One prophecy. It was those latter skills that Obi-Wan never found complete success in communicating as Master to Padawan, having himself become an instructor the very same day he’d completed the Knighthood trials.

Yet, it seemed that addressing those weaknesses in his teachings came to you with relative ease. Something that made him wonder how things may have differed on the day of Geonosis had he discovered your existence earlier.

It was his inability to properly drill the importance of patience in the young boy that later led to the loss of his arm. Obi-Wan was convinced deep down, despite Anakin’s self-punishments, that in the end, it was his own fault. Kenobi’s fault for not equaling your effectiveness in addressing these matters.

Kenobi’s fault for the loss of Anakin’s arm.

Had he found you sooner, could it have all been avoided? Would you have made a connection with little Ani and trained him out of that nearly fatal mistake before he made it?

And what of the days that followed? When Anakin was recovering from that calamitous wound in this very Infirmary.

Obi-Wan vividly recalled the striking images from when he first visited his former Padawan after the battle’s devastation. He could never forget the complete agony that radiated off Anakin’s gnarled face as he stirred from a nightmare. He could never shut out from his mind those words that chestnut-haired Jedi screamed at him, red-veined eyes pulsing as he let slip his mother’s passing.

“And it’s all your fault!”

His heart clenched at the memory.

He didn’t know the details of her death, but he understood vaguely the visions which plagued Anakin in the leading days. Specters that he didn’t realize pointed to a surmounting danger.

And Anakin blamed him for it.

Would you have figured it out faster than him?

If so, then maybe, things could’ve been different.

The possibilities dashed by the delay in rescuing you from that desolate ice planet only lengthened the Jedi Master’s perceptible regret. Possibilities that would’ve become attainable through some mastery of connecting with Anakin’s being. Some familiarity so remarkable that it must’ve been willed by the prophetic elements of the Force itself long ago, Obi-Wan convinced himself.

A conclusion that left him to wonder why you were having an oddly similar effect on him.

Perhaps it was due to your separation from the war. Your lack of experience on a real battlefield freed your being from the weights chained to every Jedi who’d experienced its turmoil. Because even when news of ongoing skirmishes trickled in through visiting clones— tempering moods and gradually effervescing the bubbling anxieties among him, Anakin, and Ahsoka— you still appeared to ignite the surrounding air with sparks of anti-gravity the moment you entered the room.

When any one of them expressed concerns about the front, your soothing smile, teasing jabs, and intelligent reassurances had soon acclimatized the bearded Jedi to associate those hopeful eyes with your comforting existence, and the relaxation it imbued in him.

It was probably also why now, much like the last week in a half, Obi-Wan felt particularly disconcerted.

Without fail, he would be the first to catch on to those subtle dips in your lips in the refractory. The uncomfortable quirk of your brow in the Archives. Sometimes, even, an unexpected twitch of the nose while strolling down a Temple walkway. Always to be followed by a quiet farewell and your quick yet controlled retreat, leaving him without the opportunity to inquire about your condition without necessitating chase.

So it goes without saying that the Master Jedi was particularly relieved when Anakin approached him. Of course, not by the story of your incident in the Starfighter. But by the fact that he finally had a valid excuse to seek you out and investigate this ongoing issue. A trouble that he’d originally surmised as related to Qui-Gon before he was proven to be severely wrong.

Your reality was quite more bothersome.

Honestly, had you not been a force-sensitive being, Obi-Wan would’ve been less concerned. Headaches can be quite normal for the average individual.

But for a Jedi?

It had far more serious possibilities.

Pain in the mind could’ve pointed to an imbalance in the Force. And considering your true identity, and Qui-Gon and the Council’s reasons for hiding it, Kenobi had reason to take note.

Still though, you‘d been through a lot these past few weeks. The death of a Master. Leaving a home you’d known all your life only to be thrust into a far busier and more complicated environment. Finally facing down a dangerous legacy with galactic implications. It was an existence far more demanding than was expected of the average Jedi. Perhaps these migraines were simply a reflection of that fact, he considered.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan wanted to make sure. He was no specialist in the medicinal aspects of the Force nor in how its energies physically manifested. And that meant the only other option was to consult someone with more expertise. Someone he equivocally trusted to make the right determination.

Qui-Gon was right. Kenobi did think about the future a little bit too much.

“Obi-Wan, if you keep staring at me like I’m about to drop dead, I’m gonna kick you out.”

Master Kenobi’s vision instantly refocused, lips parting slightly as he realized his gaze had accidentally wandered and stuck to your subtly dulled, silver orbs.

Immediately, he used his back to push off the screen, summoning a hand to check his beard’s placement in hopes of hiding the chilly embarrassment that ever so slightly crimsoned his cheeks. No matter, he doubled down, approaching you in a few steps with broad shoulders declaring self-assurance.

“You’re not getting rid of me quite that easily,” he casually quipped, dropping his arm loosely to the side once certain that brief flush drained from his ears.

At the same time, the pine-green medical droid stationed before you embraced this sudden split in the previously long-held silence as his cue. The machine wheeled around Obi-Wan, this time rudely knocking into the back of his leg in its scurry toward the screens spread out on the far wall. All the while releasing a flurry of affirmative beeps to signal the examination’s completion.

Of course, Obi-Wan’s eyes were careful not to reflect his mild agitation at the droid’s lack of spatial awareness while his gaze followed it.

Continuing to observe the green machine, Kenobi spoke, paying careful attention to its arm’s mechanical tendrils that extended into the wall’s receiver.

“I was taking the time to consider your situation.”

“What situation?” You emphasized rhetorically.

Obi-Wan’s features sobered in an effort to remind you of the potential gravity of your symptoms.

But you brushed aside his hardened brows, instead bouncing your gaze toward the uncoordinated droid as it finished retracting its arm from the console. Your vision remained locked, following its triangular head while the machine spun toward the room’s doorway, clipping the frame with an unfortunate clunk and shocked beep before reorienting itself to swerve down the parallel hall.

Even then, you extended the interval, allowing its buzzing gears and occasional clicks to grow more distant before continuing with a lowered voice.

“I went from living my life on an ice planet to now spending weeks in a much warmer climate. I’m probably not used to this environment yet. That’s all.”

The unconvinced man spied your eyes soften.

“I’d rather not be wasting medical resources for something that’s probably nothing. Especially in the middle of a war.”

Master Kenobi’s mouth twitched into a frown. “It’s not a waste if it provides the answers you’re looking for.”

“I’d agree if I believed the answers were medical,” you argued.

“This is a Jedi Infirmary,” he spotlighted. “Master Nema will be considering all phenomena that may affect a force-sensitive. Even an imbalance.”

Your brows fluttered inquisitively at this. “Is that what you think is happening? Some sort of imbalance?”

He hummed, hand reaching for his chin as his eyes drifted in thought. “I’m not quite sure. The mind of a Jedi is a complicated thing. The way in which it realizes our connection to the Force is often unpredictable. But headaches resulting from an imbalance are not unheard of,” he exhaled. “Although, I don’t feel anything strange in the space in or around you.”

Obi-Wan cocked his head, stretching out to the swirling energies around you both to confirm his observations from the last few weeks before meeting a familiar wall in the connecting strands.

“But I must admit, I do have trouble sensing your mind within the Force. So, I may be wrong.”

The nearly imperceptible sigh that escaped your nostrils drew his searching orbs back toward your lowered gaze in an instant.

“However,” he readily subsisted. “These are no ordinary scans. If these headaches are related to an imbalance, Master Nema would be the first Healer I trust to make that determination.”

But the one-sided stillness continued. The General spied your eyelids fold shut while you breathed deeply into the emptiness, kindling your despondency in such a way that it intensified Kenobi’s own discomfort. Mostly because he was growing more and more convinced that his reassurances were clearly making things worse.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear—“

“That’s ok, Obi-Wan,” you smiled at him tiredly, legs stretching as your gaze drifted toward your knees. “I heard something similar from Master Windu. If these scans don’t reveal anything, I’ll just return to those meditation sessions he suggested. They’ll have to reveal something eventually, medical or otherwise.”

Once again, Obi-Wan crossed his arms, a silent protest to the security you placed in that impractical solution. Assuming he’d properly understood your version of events from that earlier, rainy conversation, meditation had only made your migraines more unbearable.

A notion that certainly disturbed the seasoned Jedi.

Throughout his life, Master Kenobi took great comfort in connecting with the everlasting serenity that was the Force. Even as a youngling, when his imagination wandered less and less into daydreaming realms, he’d cherished these moments of silent outreach as a way to center his mind and hone his presence in the Galaxy.

But for you, in the last few days, it had only caused you pain. For you, these headaches actualized a blockade, sequestering your being from one of the most sacred acts known to any Jedi. Isolating you from peace.

And he refused to allow that to continue

Obi-Wan was dragged from his thoughts as your straightened legs limply fell back against the bedside, drawing his blue eyes toward spots of perspiration on your now stretching neck and sinking eyelids.

Seeing you like this, pushing yourself to the physical brink as a last-ditch attempt to tame these incidents, heaved upon him a draining atmosphere similar to those that weighed him down more heavily in these months of war.

Sensations he was still trying to put a name to.

But Obi-Wan didn’t need a title to know that his being was firm in at least one judgment— he didn’t want this affliction to torment you any longer.

Those words…

Name. Title.

It drudged up an abrupt thought in the ruminating Jedi. It was something you’d said. Or more, he soon realized, something Mace Windu had instructed you to do.

“Remind me,” he began with a punch, drawing your sparkling eyes toward his as he unstitched his shoulders. “Master Windu advised you to give a name to these incidents, yes?”

You nodded, eyes wandering toward the doorway as Obi-Wan continued steadfastly in his speech

“Silvey,” he called softly, drawing your attention back to him.

“What was the name—?”

“I’ve had a chance to review your scans, Silvey.”

Master Nema spoke resonantly as she materialized, carrying a polished bearing while pivoting through the open-aired doorway and toward your seated figure. Her cerulean-tinted eyelids and lips stood in stark contrast against lime-green shoulders, a distinction emphasized by bowed eyes that held affixed to the blue glow of the datapad in her dominant hand.

Regardless of the thickly sliced air, the Healer continued to evenly scroll through the device, having unknowingly cut off the previous exchange before you’d even had the chance to absorb Kenobi’s inquiry.

“And I don’t see anything of note. Just some heightened activity here.”

Obi-Wan watched as the gray-robbed Halaisi finally raised her gaze, extending the datapad toward your now curious form.

Taking the device, you scanned it quickly, eyes squinting while you mulled over some image stamped at the screen’s center beyond Kenobi’s view. Though you only mulled over the datapad for a few seconds before glancing up at the Healer candidly, a somewhat sheepish expression attempting to push through your unbending forehead.

“I’m not very familiar with the anatomy of the brain,” you admitted.

Shimming to your side without bumping into the bedside, Master Nema pointed a long, viridescent finger at the datapad. “This brighter, center portion here consists of your amygdala and hippocampus. They are responsible for several functions related to memories and emotional processing.”

She glanced at you.

“May I ask you to describe the weeks leading up to these migraines? Primarily, I’d like to know which locations you’ve visited and the activities you were engaged in.”

Obi-Wan sighed internally, biting his tongue. Even before Master Nema had finished her inquiry, the bearded Jedi was swift to realize a new issue— that your inevitable yet necessary response may undermine the accuracy of the Healer’s determinations.

And for an instant, Kenobi nearly imagined that you’d read his mind.

Not a second later, you subtly glimpsed at The General’s now very watchful stare, only to confirm with determined eyes that you knew what you needed to do.

And that he had no chance of changing your mind.

Because Master Yoda and Master Windu advised that such truths must remain hidden. As revealing your real identity could amplify the very real threat to your life. So, without their permission, your predetermined fabrication needed to become the truth to Master Nema as well.

“I’ve recently returned from a years-long mission for the Council,” you dispassionately parroted. “However, I’m unable to discuss it in detail.”

Master Nema nodded unflinchingly, having become long accustomed to the importance of discretion in most Jedi matters.

“I understand,” she relayed, retrieving the datapad from your outstretched hand. “Can you share if you’ve had any occurrences similar to these during your assignment?”

Unblinkingly, you confidently answered.

“I did not.”

“Good,” she expressed, satisfied. “Further details will not be needed.”

Lowering her arm to rest the datapad by her side, the doctor angled herself more fully toward both you and Obi-Wan as she delivered her diagnosis.

“From these symptoms and affected regions, and with no other indications of illness on your scans, I understand that you are experiencing a side effect of prolonged stress.”

Obi-Wan covertly peered at your reaction, curiously taking in the unexpected neutrality that characterized your countenance.

“Stress?” You repeated, asking for confirmation.

“Yes,” Master Nema established, unbothered by your unconvinced manner as she turned away and strolled toward the gentle green glow of busily flashing screens plastered by Obi-Wan’s side.

“It’s quite common,” she maintained, her exposed upper back greeting you both as the displays’ ceaseless stream of looping data commandeered her sight.

“But I must admit,” she noted. “I’ve only seen these cases more recently, since the war began.”

Cunningly rearranging several charts of what Kenobi saw as an assortment of disparate numbers and calculations, the Jedi Healer soon centered on a corner window before beginning the long trial of analyses inputs, gathered from the occasional glance toward her purposefully angled datapad as she expounded.

“The Jedi are involved in prolonged duties of war that they were never meant for. And without time for meditation, it has caused many to internalize these experiences. This is why the symptoms of these strains usually begin after returning to the Temple. When their bodies are given a chance to rest and connect with the Force, the effects of prolonged stress are then allowed space to materialize.”

“Materialize as headaches?” Obi-Wan questioned from his once quiet perch.

Master Nema broke away from the left screen mid-data entry, angling to face the bearded Jedi with golden-rimmed eyes and a forthright manner.

“This is the first time I’ve heard of headaches as a symptom,” she admitted. “But from the general history described, the causes appear to be the same. Also, the hippocampus and amygdala are known to respond to stress-inducing environments. And headaches are not a far stretch from the primary indicators. Lack of focus, exhaustion…”

Master Nema stretched to eye your figure thoughtfully.

“I believe you’re showing the latter.”

At that remark, Kenobi immediately noticed a chink in your impartiality as a flake of disappointment slipped past the corners of gently pursed lips.

His forehead crinkled at the trickle of confusion dripping down his hairline. Obi-Wan thought you’d be relieved to hear that this affliction was not as dire as it had the potential to be.

It appeared that the Jedi Healer must’ve noticed the same shift in expression as she offered you a diplomatic smile. Those that are often reserved by doctors for their more unfamiliar patients.

“Rest, Silvey. Meditate. Do something to take your mind off of the stresses of your mission. It’s over now.”

And, in response, you offered a simple nod.

“Thank you, Master,” you relayed sincerely, offering a flash of amicability. “I’ll try to do that.”

You pushed off the medical bed with sudden haste, toes landing on the floor gingerly as your legs briskly steered through and out the doorway. The skilled maneuverings easily drew Obi-Wan’s attention, compelling him to detect a precise shift in your most noticeable features as you passed by.

How your eyes submerged into a subtle, gray glaze, and how your jaw inappreciably tightened.

It was enough to provoke him to launch a pursuit of his own, hoping to make up for the past few weeks of mistakes in not doing exactly this. All with the intent to close the distance with your quickly departing being after exchanging a parting nod with Master Nema.

“Silvey,” he projected, pacing toward your weaving form beyond the last few cubicles that pointed to the Infirmary’s exit like an arrow.

He caught your gate slacken as you entered the connecting Temple walkway, casually pivoting toward his quick steps while you waited for him to catch up. Still, you didn’t give Kenobi a chance to finish his approach before beginning to speak unapologetically, offering a straight face and a hand on each hip as you made a particularly bold statement

“It’s not stress.”

Had he not been present in the observation room, Master Kenobi would’ve unequivocally believed your statement right then and there. From three, fearless words alone. Spoken with such sheer simplicity that it was as if you were reminding him that Coruscant’s sky was, in fact, blue.

Still, disregarding the momentary speculation your confidence imbued, Obi-Wan held onto the reality of your situation. Or, more accurately, the relative soundness of Master Nema’s diagnosis while his pace effortlessly eased by your side.

“You don’t know that,” he contested as you pivoted, carrying on your trek down the pillared and lilac-carpeted walkway while his legs seamlessly moved in sync with yours. “The history you provided may not be accurate, but that doesn’t mean stress isn’t the source. Master Nema said the scans support her diagnosis.”

“It’s not stress,” you reflexively repeated, the same, unshakable conviction as pulsing as before that locked Kenobi’s gaze onto you while you continued.

“Stress is natural. It’s our being’s way of telling us something. Reminding us to take a break. To take time for ourselves. But whatever this is,” you gesticulated into the air, hand twirling as if it was conjuring the very affliction from the surrounding pillars’ essence. “It isn’t natural. It’s different. Deep inside me, but not. Disconnected—“

From a lightning flash of sliver, Obi-Wan was temporarily taken aback as he was forced to absorb your stilled yet rich perseverance. Bleeding through eyes that whipped over to challenge his stare, drawing you both to a sudden halt.

While emphasizing each consonant, you calmly declared once more your obstinate verdict.

“It is not stress.”

For a few seconds, the Master Jedi searched your face, keeping an eye out for any inkling of a quiver in your fortitude. Any sign of withheld doubts. Any indication that there was something you weren’t comfortable sharing.

But quite immediately, The General realized that even if he’d stood there for days, all would’ve remained the same. There were no hints that you could’ve been convinced otherwise. No way for him to persuade you that stress affected the body just as mysteriously as the Force.

So, he acquiesced.

“Alright,” he acknowledged, a gentleness enveloping his tone. “For now, let’s agree that it may not be stress. You’ve been managing them with the same approaches Master Nema suggested, no?”

“I have…” you skeptically concurred. “But it’s not sustainable.”

The sound of your exhale roped Obi-Wan’s attention as you reached up to rest a palm on your eye. Your cheeks sagged in resignation, subduing your voice while you spoke.

“I guess I’ll just try to get some rest.”

Obi-Wan’s brows creased in an unpleasant recognition.

Those disjointed eyes? The carefully constructed monotonousness you’ve held since making your escape from the Infirmary?

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan was quickly becoming a master at pinpointing the signs.

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” He delicately inquired.

You shook your head incredulously, a small smile inching out of the corner of your mouth as you peeked at him.

“Is it that obvious?”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure exactly why he did it. Why his arms reached for your shoulders, grasping their cold frames with a pleasant squeeze. As if some foreign entity now controlled and commanded both limbs with a set of knotted strings. A mind other than his own that believed the only way you’d hear his words was through physical and visual touch alone.

For a split second, at the base of his subconscious, with eyes locked onto yours, Kenobi speculated that perhaps it was a piece of Qui-Gon left behind that commandeered his actions. You’d mentioned to Obi-Wan that your former Master believed your stubbornness to be a considerable strength, yet a ramifying weakness. Something the bearded Jedi certainly recognized as he spent more time with you in the past few weeks.

Knowing the dearly departed, your at times cloaked stubbornness on such affairs plausibly necessitated Master Quinn to rely on similar measures to finally break through.

So why not do the same?

“Let me help you. You’re not on Hoth anymore. There are beings that can assist you here,” he frustratingly exhaled. “You told me yourself that rest has done nothing. I can provide a suitable distraction, if you’d allow me.”

Kenobi’s careful gaze caught the minute disorientation that blinked from reactive brows. You clasped your hands and, for the first time since he’d known you, an air of timidness encircled your ears.

“I appreciate the offer,” you began conscientiously, displaying a thankful smile “But that wouldn’t be fair to you. I know that there are probably a number of Council tasks you’ve sacrificed to check on me, which I appreciate. But I shouldn’t keep you away from those responsibilities any longer.”

“You and I both know that the Council’s activities have laxed since the incident with the communications system,” he securely reminded you as the bud of a perfect excuse blossomed into the puff of levity that captured his voice.

“Besides, this would be more of an exchange than a sacrifice.”

“Oh?” You uttered.

Your demure smile stretched into an infectious smirk, which only amplified Obi-Wan’s gaiety through brightened cheeks.

“You seem to have forgotten your promise,” he bantered.

Your head tilted.

“My promise?”

“The Muntuur?”

The bottom half of your face instantly transformed into a broad grin.

“Ah, yes,” you exaggerated teasingly. “How could I’ve forgotten a promise as dire as that.”

“Then you agree?” He quickly inquired. “You instruct me on how to use the device, and you can be confident that I will ask enough questions to keep your mind occupied.”

“I believe you may be on the better side of this deal,” you poked.

Kenobi watched as your eyes wafted toward the far-reaching Temple ceilings in thought. And in pondering his request amidst the absurdity of this exchange, Obi-Wan was fortunate enough to just barely catch your attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Alright,” you feigned defeat, silver orbs flickering as you glanced at him.

“I agree.”

—

Kenobi drifted deeper into his settled posture, legs folded in angled balance as he extended his deliverance into the swirling energies of the Force. Straightening his back, his focused mind welcomed the omnipresent stream to encircle him in the empty training dojo, never to be hindered by its milky white walls nor wood-bordered panels.

Wherever he was, The General sensed this to be true. That the Force would always be with him.

Rationally, Obi-Wan knew that any second, you’d be strolling through those two gray sliding doors to join him, Muntuur in hand after retrieving it from your quarters per his request. Yet still, Kenobi found that even in the most cursory of moments, meditation proved to always be a feasible endeavor. Despite sometimes having only a few seconds to fully connect with his surroundings, Obi-Wan found that stretching into the constant flow would still center his mind in a manner that could last for hours. Perhaps days, if he’d found particular focus.

But he hadn’t always had the aptitude to enter those cavernous reflective states so rapidly. Especially as a Padawan, when his mind took a little bit more tugging to wrench it away from concerns of the future so to focus on the here and now. It was a realm he always had to strive toward. A speedy existence he’d been further compelled to master had he any hope of engaging in such comforts during the ceaseless activities of war.

A lifestyle he knew he’d be returning to soon.

From the final review of the Temple’s security system this morning, it was ultimately discovered that there had, in fact, been a leak in the communications system. Specifically, an exposed transceiver code. And, of course, of the many technical specialists and machines tasked with rooting out the issue, Artoo, Anakin’s prized blue-and-white droid, was the one to discover it.

Due to Count Dooku’s formerly wide access to sensitive Temple data, Master Yoda had decided to alter all related security measures so to ensure that the Separatists were not given a tactical advantage after The Battle of Geonosis. That included identifying and deactivating the extensive array of transceiver codes that Dooku was aware of.

But, unfortunately, it seemed that one was missed. A single line of digits once only privy to Council transmissions during Dooku’s short stint as a member, long before Obi-Wan’s time. An easy mistake that proved to have significant consequences, setting back the Republic’s stance by forcing the Jedi off the battlefield as clone battalions temporarily took command.

And just after they’d finally gotten one step ahead of the Separatists following the Republic victory on Christophsis, no less.

Either way, The General understood that he’d soon see the damage himself once given his first return assignment. A mission that would include you, considering Master Yoda’s decision to separate you from Anakin on the battlefield for the time being.

But there wasn’t time for such considerations any longer. No more musings about what the future held. Not in a time when he should’ve been blending his mind with the rippling stream.

A time cut short.

The whoosh of an automatic door releasing tickled his ears, followed by a cool gust of creeping air that further drew Obi-Wan out of his concentrative state. A quick wrench akin to similar interruptions by Commander Cody during those off-world campaigns in the months prior.

His eyelids peeled open at the new, subtle presence before him. And in the moments that followed, it didn’t take long for Kenobi to take note of your more upbeat figure, revitalized by the prospect of the coming distraction in the form of teaching a lesson on ancient implements, Obi-Wan hoped. A divertissement to be governed by The Muntuur whose glint caught the bearded Jedi’s eye.

“Excellent,” Master Kenobi expressed, raking his gaze over the half-circle metal headpiece that hung loosely from your fingertips while he untangled, placing a hand on his knee to help him stand. “Now tell me how it works.”

Obi-Wan spotted a quirk in your brows as you steadily approached, a token of entertainment at his eagerness, no doubt.

You hummed flippantly. “It would be easier to just show you, you know.”

And Master Kenobi wholeheartedly agreed, but that wasn’t why he was doing this. He couldn’t deny that he’d been ardently waiting since you told him about The Muntuur to put the apparatus to the test. But, right now, he had more important matters to address than his budding curiosity.

To focus your mind on easier topics. On the intricacies of a long-lost Jedi device. And on the concentration required to explain it to him.

And that meant putting some skin in the game.

“I’d much rather hear it from your own voice,” he contended, nonchalant gaze somewhat lowering to meet yours as your shorter, slightly amused figure stalled within arms reach of his chest.

And with your quick-beat response, it was clear to Obi-Wan that you’d in some measure caught on to his ruse.

“Well, how could I deny such a charmed request?”

A tickled smile crawled across Kenobi’s features at your faintly sarcastic tone. An expression that persisted fervently despite noticing a sincerity wash away your brief masquerade.

“I must warn you, Obi-Wan. What I’ve learned about this device was through significant trial and error. Not even Qui-Gon really understood it.”

Still, the Jedi Master’s encouraging regard never quivered. A long-held desire to grasp and digest your knowledge radiated from his being. Strong enough, it seemed, to persuade you to continue as you held up The Muntuur for easy viewing.

“If you have the imagination, and the specifications, you can program it to simulate virtually anything. Any drill or duel you can imagine. Any environment. Any foe. As long as you know the strengths, behaviors, and appearances involved in your desired program, then it can be created by inputting them here.”

Obi-Wan adjusted as you turned your back toward him to display the device’s rear. Specifically, the small, anciently designed input panel whose miniature screen emitted an amber gleam between your secured fingers.

He craned his neck farther over your shoulder, the fragrance of star jasmines wafting from your loose hair and into his nostrils as he strived to take a closer look.

“My holobooks often provided enough information for me to recreate their contents for training purposes,” you continued to explain. “Honestly, I’ve used The Muntuur so much that I still have a number of designations memorized. Including…”

Master Kenobi scrutinized the tiny display as your fluttering fingers tapped away, making selections and adjusting parameters so expeditiously that it was as if an invisible memory bank of numbers and terms were stored in your wrist. You readied the device so expertly, in fact, that the brief trailing off of your voice was smoothly picked up following the short, concentrative pinch.

“…this little guy.”

He watched while your thumb danced to the small, circular black button resting in the panel’s corner, pressing and holding it down until a startling beep cheered from the device. An unexpected noise that swiveled your figure back toward the Master Jedi, arm outstretched in offering as a barely hampered enthusiasm elevated your features.

However, with an undetermined inspection narrowing on the instrument, Obi-Wan suddenly felt hesitant to accept.

He often found comfort in understanding the more nuanced aspects of unknown technologies before diving right in, unlike his former Padawan. Consequently, The Master Jedi had honestly been anticipating a more detailed explanation. But from the rapid fire of input codes and language specifications that manifested from your exceptional proficiency, Obi-Wan now realized that, even with your guidance, such in-depth adroitness was sure to take weeks if not months.

Time he, unfortunately, did not have.

“Don’t worry,” you brightly assured, arm still extended with the gleaming metal headpiece. “The safety protocols are engaged. It won’t bite.”

Kenobi’s stare snapped toward yours as he cautiously took the device.

“Safety protocols?” He inquired, turning over the cold metal in his palms as he observed its ornate craftsmanship. “I’ve never heard of a simulation creating a safety issue.”

“It’s more than a simulation,” you elucidated, jutting a thumb toward his grasp. “Notice how there’s no visor?”

Obi-Wan flipped the device, realizing the accuracy of your statement as his befuddled eyes met its rather barren fore.

“It functions by triggering the electrical impulses in your neurons. Because it creates the simulation with your mind, certain programs need to be active to prevent the more subconscious parts of your brain from confusing artificial injuries with reality.”

“That is…quite fascinating…” Obi-Wan uttered, taking one last scan of the unique instrument before glancing at your intrigued features, captivated by a typhoon of ruminations on the device’s remarkable functions, he assumed.

“So I won’t feel pain?”

You shook your head heartily, emphasizing each word that followed. “No, you’ll certainly feel pain. But you won’t receive any grievous injuries.”

And the General’s spine stiffened from shock at this. Eyes wide as he searched your matter-of-fact countenance for clarification.

“Silvey, are you saying this device can cause real-world harm?”

“Only if the safety protocols are off,” you undauntedly reminded before your voice relaxed into a fonder, more reminiscent timbre.

“I learned that piece of programming the hard way,” you chuckled. “Qui-Gon almost threw the whole thing away after I nearly bled to death from a stab to the shoulder. A fairly treatable wound in the likes of Coruscant, I’m sure. But when you have no choice but to work with a few, expired bacta pads, it can become a little dicey.”

Master Kenobi’s once intrigued disposition had slowly devolved into a frown.

He knew this implement was old. Likely used by ancient Jedi who followed a widely contrasting set of rules in a lawless world of dark adversaries. But he never predicted that their training equipment would allow for such risk in the name of growth. There was a reason younglings learned on training sabers. So that they need not face the same life-threatening dangers that you seem to have faced every day at their age. Whether through an unpredictable apparatus or the nature of your icy asylum.

Obi-Wan barely noticed the thickening of a faintly simmering temper, mixed with frustration and confusion as he finally considered the reality of your upbringing. The bearded Jedi cared for his former Master deeply, and he clearly understood that Qui-Gon had done his best to protect you under severe circumstances. But the auburn-haired man couldn’t get over the sheer recklessness that characterized his decision-making as your custodian.

Had he not checked this device thoroughly before handing it off to a child? That didn’t sound like the wise man he’d known for all his life. Though Qui-Gon did have many responsibilities on top of your secret existence. Most of which likely prevented him from imparting the same thoroughness and circumspect to which he gifted Obi-Wan.

Still, it was no excuse.

And the longer he sat with that realization, the more your recollection ruffled Obi-Wan. Especially when your cavalier attitude proved your innocence to the underlying issue that Kenobi was so peeved by.

A reaction that you just seemed to notice, but failed to correctly attribute.

“Obi-Wan.”

You spoke gently, reaching out a cold, comforting hand to rest beneath his, providing a little extra lift in supporting the gadget’s portable weight. His eyes followed your arm, naturally landing on the two, strikingly silver orbs that relaxed his tensed muscles and unsettled thoughts with mollifying memories of uncomplicated talks and silent company.

“I promise you, you’re not gonna get hurt. I would never have agreed to share The Muntuur with you had I believed for a second it would cause serious harm.”

And there it was again. Those gentle, sparkling features that cozily blanketed Obi-Wan’s line of vision with honest poise. Accompanied by relieving words that freshly astounded him in every instant they fell from your lips.

Your life. Your upbringing. Devoid of connection and saturated with harsh dangers in an inhospitable habitat. Yes, a Jedi was expected to forgo all attachments, but this isolation had been to an extreme.

Yet every day. In every moment he had the chance to grace your presence. To get to know you. You’d shimmer like a being who’d known unconditional love from the galaxy, and was simply acting as a conduit to relay that benevolence onto others.

But that wasn’t your reality, Obi-Wan reminded himself. Besides Qui-Gon’s disbanded guidance, you had only known the cold.

Still, even that jarring refuge was likely more enticing than the prospect of facing a dark nemesis too soon.

You’d only known struggle, yet diffused compassion.

You really were something.

“I trust you,” Master Kenobi finally spoke, raising The Muntuur to secure its chilly, rigid form atop his head.

While his hands lowered, Obi-Wan felt a slight dig as the device morphed to fit his skull’s dimensions. A low, mechanical purr was followed by strange tingling sensations that danced across his temples like docile Endorian ants.

But after a few, stagnant seconds, in which a stillness recouped the air, nothing else occurred.

The Jedi Master knew that you’d intended for some program to run, yet he saw nothing. Just the dojo’s durable, cream-tinted walls supported by pillars of hickory brown wood.

“How do I know if the simulation has begun?” Obi-Wan questioned, eyes glancing toward your figure as you purposefully ambled backward to grant more clearance to the focused Jedi.

A delighted smirk tugged up at your countenance from chin to ears as you slowed to a halt about twelve meters away.

“Oh, trust me. You’ll know.”

A deep, guttural roar bellowed from behind, provoking a somewhat startled Master Kenobi to detach his lightsaber mid-whirl as he faced the blare with the blade’s instantly ignited, blue glow.

Coiled into a stalking pose at the opposite wall was the brown-gold body of a particularly irate Nexu. Its four, beady red eyes pierced Kenobi’s senses, drawing considerable attention to the broad set of dagger-like teeth that stretched across half its face as the beast soon began to circularly prowl. The inchmeal movements of its sharp claws and flicking tails quickly compelled Kenobi to step into a cautious counter, sidestep after sidestep so to avoid closing that precarious gap.

“I believe we have different definitions of what qualifies as a ‘little guy!’” Obi-Wan sarcastically called out, his readily extended saber maintaining the standoff while he kept a slow, methodical distance.

“I think he’s kinda cute!” You gushed.

Obi-Wan’s head whipped to stare at you in utter disbelief, hoping to communicate his complete disagreement with such a statement. In fact, he manifested with his eyes alone the question of whether you were truly seeing the same ghastly brute as him.

But any answer he sought would have to wait, it appeared. The momentary glance at your chuckling figure was cut short by the beast’s consciousness of Kenobi’s brief distraction.

Its paws struck the ground with a sharp crack, signaling the Nexu’s powerful charge toward Obi-Wan as the latter’s attention snapped back toward the rapidly closing-in creature. One, he now noticed, whose approach could be viscerally sensed, further persuading the Master Jedi to poise himself for the coming strike that he felt through the surrounding flow.

“I can feel its movement within the force!” He called out while dodging a quick slash of the right set of claws. “How is that possible?!”

“It’s part of the programming,” you leveled candidly while Obi-Wan sprinted for a better vantage point toward the far wall, slithering beast on his tail.

“I think that’s why Qui-Gon assumed it was built for the Jedi,” you continued. “Never could figure out how that part worked.”

Drawing on the stream around him as he reached the dead end, Kenobi leapt onto the wall, maintaining his momentum while he followed its architecture around the training room.

Still, the slobbering huffs of the Nexu stayed close behind, especially once the creature’s biting claws lodged into the same partition, empowering it to launch into a rather slippery chase while its talons fought against the smoother sectionals.

However, the agile Jedi persisted, formulating a plan as his eyes locked onto an abruptly nearing corner.

With the blustering beast just a few steps behind, Kenobi broke away toward the opposite intersecting wall. Then, with cold air resisting against his face, Obi-Wan exercised the boost to reach and thrust against this new push-off point, barreling into a flip back toward the growling beast that still struggled to skitter across this raised vantage point.

Swiftly, while the Master Jedi glided midair, Kenobi brought down his blue luminescence to slash at the Nexu’s back. It was in that instant, that he successfully severed several of its sharp quills, a pink ooze soaking the creature’s fur while it wailed out in agony.

Embracing the Force to cushion his descent, Obi-Wan partially floated to the stone floor, toes centering his landing as the beast once clawing across the dojo wall writhed into a short plummet, striking the floor with a boom just meters beyond his feet.

Kenobi watched on while the Nexu pitifully rolled to its side, emitting a flurry of pained squeaks and whimpers in its parade to expose its underside, a symbol of surrender.

But that white flag wasn’t what prompted Obi-Wan to abruptly unfasten The Muntuur from his skull and end the program, leading the now docile Nexu to fade into nothingness as the device hummed through its deactivation.

No.

Instead, the slightly panting Jedi’s attention was seized by a sudden burst of laughter from the far corner, flinging his bewildered yet slightly curious gaze toward your bent-over form leaned against the dojo’s gray doors.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just, this is the first time I’ve seen someone use The Muntuur from an outside perspective and I’m—” Another fit of giggles poured out of your gut, squeezing Obi-Wan’s brows to raise in delight at the sound.

“I’m just now wondering how Qui-Gon kept a straight face! With nothing there for me, it just looks like you’re running around in circles, and—“

Another howl of laughter colored the air, touching his chest with a strangely familiar sensation. One that he couldn’t quite clearly recall, but knew still that it had been something he’d experienced a couple times a year as a young Padawan.

On those few evenings in the fall when his training had ended early for the day, young Kenobi would run off to the Glitannai Eslpanade to experience the Festival of Stars. And while he appreciated the joy of dancing beings and the artistry of performative acrobatics, he’d only really had one motive for sneaking off with a nut brown robe tightly concealing his Jedi identity amongst the bustling crowds.

It was to gawk at the falling Ithorian rose petals, flung from the sky like euphoric tears at each year’s parade on Coruscant.

A sight he could never drag his eyes away from, no matter how hard he tried.

This wasn’t exactly what Obi-Wan had planned when he decided to focus your mind on matters separate from those stress-induced headaches. But he certainly wasn’t going to complain about finding success through other means. The undeniably beaming expression on your face meant that something he did had lessened the headache that’d emerged following your infirmary visit, at least.

Perhaps that was what gave rise to his inner appreciation for your enlivened state. Because when he heard your laughter spring throughout the room, it confirmed for him that he’d finally taken a little bit of your pain away.

And that idea alone tugged fiercely at his facial muscles, coaxing him to give rise to a smile.

But Obi-Wan shoved that down, instead adopting a rather unimpressed gaze as his voice oozed with sarcasm.

“I’m pleased you find my defensive techniques so amusing.”

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generalkenobee · 1 year

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Hello! I wanted to request some headcanons if thats okay :]

How would Kylo, Obi and Qui Gon act if their s/o hugs them all of a sudden? Like, they're working or meditating and their s/o just hug them from behind or something. Would they hug back inmediately? Comfort? Froze?

I hope this makes sense, tysm and have a nice day<3

This is so cute!!

I also want to point out that this is my first request for obi wan?! Like what so it's much appreciated baby booboo bear 🩷

Tw: just fluff

•he honestly gets defensive and pushes you away at first

•when he realizes it's you he apologizes and hugs you back

•" I'm sorry, you know you can't be here right now. You'll distract me"

•when you don't move Kylo lets out an irritated sigh but doesn't force you to leave

•you would watch him as he meditates, his entire face at rest and he just looked too good

•so you would walk up to him and crawl into his lap again

•"(Y/N).." his tone was unwavering and more less a warning

•when you refuse to leave his lap, he just continues with you there while you play with his fingers

•"hello there" he said hugging you back

•he'll let you sit in the same room as him while you read

•you would look over at obi wan every so often and just couldn't control yourself

•you stood behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, head rested on his shoulder with steady breathing

•"you're impossible, I can't seem to get away from you y'know that?"

•you looked up at him disappointed and slightly sad, thinking he wanted you to leave

•"oh no sweetheart, I love having you with me while I meditate. It helps me concentrate"

•very similar to Obi Wan

•gentle with you, always

•would immediately drop what he was doing and hug you back, rubbing light circles on your back

•"aw does my baby want attention?"

•when you look up at him and nod your head he would squeeze you tighter

•you guys would stay like that for a while before he went back to his meditation

•he has no issue with you staying with him

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floffytofu · 1 year

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The Attachment

previous | next

The news of a young padawan meeting an ex-Jedi Master, now known as a Sith Lord, spread like wildfire throughout the Jedi Temple. It's supposed to be a remarkable achievement for a young padawan to survive such a dangerous encounter, but that would be a different story when the ex- Jedi is the one who has been taking care of them since a baby.

This encounter has led to the situation you find yourself in now. You stand at the center of the Jedi Council room, aware that the gazes of the Jedi Masters are fixed upon you with a mixture of anticipation and tension. Besides you, stands Commander Cody. Cody's composed exterior doesn't completely hide the subtle signs of tension. A slight furrow of his brow, the way he adjusts his stance – these small gestures reveal his unease. You share a brief glance with Cody, offering him a reassuring smile. Cody's expression softens as he meets your gaze and registers your reassurance. The small smile you give him seems to lighten the atmosphere, even if just a bit. It's a brief moment of connection amidst the anticipation in the room.

"Young Padawan and Commander Cody, we are glad to have you both back safely," Master Plo's voice breaks the silence.

"Indeed, however, we need to know what happened when you both met with Count Dooku and how you managed to escape," adds Master Windu, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and concern.

Taking a deep breath, you consciously attempt to calm the internal conflict swirling in your heart. It's been three days since your encounter with him, yet the memories remain vivid, as if it all happened just yesterday. The familiarity of his voice and the aura of comfort that still radiated from him were reminiscent of the old man you had always known. The sight of the black robe and the crimson lightsaber, a stark contrast to his old blue one, stands as a barrier that keeps you from embracing him like the old days, it makes your heart ache.

In the uncomfortable silence, you sense a wave of comfort and reassurance flowing through the bond you share with your master. Meeting your master's gaze, you offer him a grateful smile. In response, your master returns the gesture with a smile of his own, the unspoken smile telling you that you are not alone in this challenging situation. You looking back at Master Windu and finally having courage to speak

"We didn't escape, Master. Count Dooku let us go"

You speak with a calm yet resolute voice, the weight of your words hanging in the air. A soft murmurs filled the Jedi Council room as you expected. You stand at the center of it all, the weight of the room's attention focused on you. Master Yoda's cane taps the floor, the distinct sound reverberating through the room, and an immediate hush falls over the Council members.

"More about what happened, young padawan, can you tell us?"

"Of course, Master. When Commander Cody and I got separated from Master Kenobi, we found ourselves unable to locate an exit for several hours. Then, unexpectedly, Count Dooku appeared. I didn't sense any immediate hostility from him. He engaged in conversation with me for a few minutes and just left when my Master and the rest of troopers were about to find us. I assure you Master, he didn't hurt me or Commander Cody"

Your voice slightly waver at the end, Master Yoda's perceptive gaze doesn't miss the subtle wavering in your voice. There's a tinge of sadness that flickers within his expression, a recognition of the complexity of the situation you've found yourself in.

"True, is that, Commander Cody?"

Cody's grip tightened on the helmet in his hand as he nodded. The memory of you and Count Dooku still lingered in his head. He recalled the way the separatist leader's eyes softened at the sight of you, how he inquired about your well-being instead of reaching for his lightsaber. In that moment, Cody had witnessed a side of the enemy he hadn't expected—a glimpse of humanity that defied the rigid lines of the war they were in. And at that moment, the clone commander immediately understood that an unspoken connection existed between you and the separatist leader before all of this chaos happened.

Master Yoda nodded at this. while Master Windu, his expression inscrutable, turned his attention from Cody to you.

"Yes sir"

"And what kind of conversation did you have with Count Dooku, Padawan?" Windu's voice was measured, carrying a hint of curiosity.

"He said he was glad that Master Kenobi took me as his Padawan and he just asked about my well being Master. and when I asked how he knew about me being Master Kenobi Padawan, he evaded the question. Instead, he simply asked me to trust that his intentions were for a greater purpose."

The room held a collective tension, your words echoing with a sense of intrigue that had captivated the Council. Windu's gaze remained fixed on you as he continued study your expression.

"And did you trust him?"

The familiar voice of your Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, resonated in the council chamber, his gaze fixed upon you with a mixture of concern and expectation. You avoided his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as uncertainty weighed heavily in your response.

"I—I don't know,"

"I heard Master Windu send you to help Master Nu at Jedi archive as punishment"

Startled by the unexpected but warm familiarity of the voice, you turned around to see none other than Master Dooku standing there, his presence commanding yet welcoming. His eyes held a glint of amusement as he regarded you.

"Master Dooku!"

You exclaimed, your voice a mix of surprise and joy. A warmth spread through you as you closed the distance between you two. He returned your smile and opened his arms. In a heartbeat, you were wrapped in his embrace, feeling the reassuring strength of his arms around you. He lifted you effortlessly, a gentle chuckle escaping him as you put your tiny hands around him.

"ah, my eager youngling. Always ready to greet the world with enthusiasm."

You chuckled at his remark, a carefree sound that echoed through the corridors as he carried you outside the jedi archives. The passing jedi masters received respectful nods and warm greetings from master dooku as he walked with you in his arms.

"In my defense, it was an accident, master,"

you retorted, your tone playfully innocent as you recalled the incident he was referring to. Dooku raised an amused eyebrow, his lips curving into a wry smile.

"an accident that included a book thrown at Master Mundi's face?"

you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the memory, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment.

"Well, i didn't mean to hit him. The force just guided the book in a different direction..."

Dooku's amusement deepened into a full-fledged smile, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of fondness and wry amusement.

"ah, my young one, your creative explanations never cease to amuse me."

Master Dooku carried you through the serene expanse of the temple courtyard. Ahead, you spotted master Qui-gon Jinn standing before the majestic uneti tree. The sight of him brought a smile to your lips, master dooku's steps slowed as he approached the scene, Qui-gon look at his former master with you and smile with fondness.

"Master Qui-gon! You're back early," you exclaimed, your voice a mix of surprise and delight.

Qui-gon's eyes twinkled with warmth as he shifted his attention to you, his smile growing.

"Indeed, young one. I just finished a mission with my padawan," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of pride, "and upon returning, I heard some interesting news. Apparently, a certain youngling had a slight incident involving a book and Master Mundi's face. I wonder who that might be."

You felt your cheeks flush slightly under Qui-gon's gaze, a mixture of amusement and slight embarrassment coloring your expression.

"It was— it was an accident, master Qui-gon I promise," you admitted, your voice tinged with a sheepish grin. "I didn't mean to hit Master Mundi. The force just had a different plan."

Qui-gon chuckle and your giggles fill the temple courtyard, the warm atmosphere surrounded the Jedi temple at the sight of two Jedi Masters and a young Jedi in front of uneti tree. The connection they grew is quite dangerous for a Jedi to form an attachment, yet they didn't feel that way. Instead, it feels right, just like where they belong all along. It feels warm, just like home.

"I want to meet your Padawan someday"

"and you will young one, I believe you both will get along really well"

Now you stood in front of the uneti tree, alone. The wind around Jedi courtyard feels cold, the warmth surrounding this place seems gone as if it's gone with them. Perhaps it's never felt warm, it's just their presence who made it warm just like home. You look up at the tree as one of the leaves fell in your feet, you hold your tears once again.

You hate yourself for being weak, you shouldn't let your emotions control you like this. You're Jedi, you should let them go. The attachment is a path to the dark side, you remind yourself once again. But how you can let them go that easy as their memory with you keep lingering in your mind.

"I know that I'll find you here somehow"

The voice of your Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, reached your ears. make you quickly wipe your tears, you look back at him forcing a smile.

"Sorry Master, I thought I could visit here before we go back to Negotiator again"

Obi-Wan crouched down, his eyes meeting yours as he gently wiped away the remaining tears from your cheeks. His expression looks troubled, there's sadness in his eyes as he looks at you softly.

"I know this attachment you had with Count Dooku and my former Master Padawan." he began, his voice tender yet filled with an undeniable weight. "I've never forbidden you from loving and treasuring someone. But there comes a time when we must let go. It's a difficult lesson we learn as Jedi. We can't allow our emotions to control us and lead us down the path to the dark side. I've already lost so much, and I don't want to lose you as well."

As his words settled into the air, your eyes brimmed with tears once more, and you couldn't contain the overwhelming surge of emotion any longer. You threw your arms around Obi-Wan, seeking comfort and warmth in his presence. Your sobs escaped freely as you clung to him, releasing all the pent-up sadness and sorrow that had been weighing on your heart. The Uneti tree stood witness to your vulnerability, the complexities of a Jedi's journey—a journey marked by love, loss, and the unwavering commitment to the path of light.

"Hush my dear, I'm here now"

On the outer edges of the galaxy, on the planet Serenno, an ex-Jedi Master stood by a window, lost in thought. Memories of a recent encounter with you played in his mind. It was the first time ever he saw you after a few years since his former Padawan Qui-gon Jinn death, since he left the order. The promise he made to you echoed in his mind—promising to take you with him someday.

He couldn't shake the image of your sad and defeated expression as you looked at his dark robe and his red lightsaber. As he looked out the window, his emotions matched the stormy skies above Serenno. He had left to protect those he cared about, but in doing so, he had left you behind, someone he had promised to look after.

But he can't go back now, it's already too late for him. He must finish this. The corruption in the senate needs to be erased. To end the suffering of civilians, no more corrupt senate, no more children have to live without parents like you. If this makes him a villain, then he is willing to take that risk for a greater purpose. He only hopes that you don't hate him too much for this. Someday, he hopes you will understand.

#codywan #star wars #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #clone wars #padawan reader #child reader #obi wan x padawan reader platonic #cody x reader platonic #count dooku x reader platonic #qui gon jinn x reader platonic #obi wan x reader

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thesassypadawan · 4 months

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💙🤍Who Should It Be?🤍💙

Hear me out on this one... I was thinking of doing little daddy fic for around Father's Day, but don't know who to write it for! So I figured I would ask, you lovelies, who you would want to see in it! A certain Space Wizard, a Dark Daddy, or a Hockey Loving DILF? Lemme know and thankies in advance for your input! ❤️

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obsessedlovers · 6 months

Text

seeking for stars

(a tale of stars and sorrow part 1)

Qui-Gon Jinn x female oc

- smut / +18

- bondage

- age gap

// "Feel, dont think.", I gasp, not able to do anything more than melt under him, his motions, his presence. //

"Master", i say, greeting the tall, calm man entering the archive. It's a quiet afternoon, my shift gets finally close to its end. The jedi slowly passes the endless rows of shelves, holding every memory of the universe.

His deep measured voice draws me in his direction. "I want to speak to your master Jocasta Nu." Just for a second, i blink, feeling overwhelmed by his capturing aura. "The master is on a mission, may i offer my help instead?"

The Jedi Temple Library is one of the most important places of research and knowledge in Coruscant and the whloe core worlds, often sought out by members of the Jedi Council. But only the masters work on these requests. I am part of the educational jedi service corps. But i was a jedi initiate, a poor one for sure.

Qui-Gon looks down on me, not unfriendy, rather inquiring. He is tall, way taller than me. His blue eyes fix me with a piercing gaze. "What's your name, apprentice?" "Riaye Chas, master."

"Riaye, show me where the holograms of the great hyperspace war are located." I nod, leading the older man through the library aisles. The archive rooms are vast and extensive, although i am learning for years now to be an archivist in the corps, i still get lost.

I feel a bit uncomfortable as the jedi master follows me, as if i could feel his glimpses burning on me. He is so close, his robe lightly touches me. As we finally come to the right corridor, i sense his intense feelings and determance.

Just as I'm about to show him the holograms, Qui-Gon steps towards me. I am pushed against the shelves. "Master-", I start off suprised. His long hair falls against my neck, even through his thick robe I can feel his muscles keeping me in place.

But its more than this. I can feel him slightly using the force, using it to stop me from moving, building a protective, sound-insulating field around us and the corridor.

My breathing speeds up. I look up into his eyes. "You're not good at hiding your feelings." He's so close that his beard softly brushes me. My heart races. "Do you want me to touch you?" I nod, too fast. He chuckles, already running his fingers under my robe, untying the laces.

Qui-Gon steps back, looking at my naked body. Than he lifts his hand, and suddenly the laces of my robe start lifting up from the ground, winding and tying one of my arms to my thigh, one behind my back.

Standing on one leg, feeling the tense grip of the strings slowly wraping around my breasts, exposing them to him. I feel my pussy clenching, waiting for him to fill her. Qui-Gon comes closer, glazing at his work, running his fingers over my tied up body.

He bends down, his lips kissing my skin, the strings cutting in it.

My legs started trembling. He forces himself into me, pushing into my throbbing parts. I cannot help but moan. My voice encourages him, he starts moving in me, slowly first but than harder. "You're so big master."

I am hardly standing, he holds me in position while pushing into me. His robe falls loosely from his shoulders, but he has barely taken off his clothes. I feel even more exposed.

Qui-Gon loosens the ties, the strings fall on the ground within one motion. My body trembles from the tension. The jedi master turns me, his hands on my hips. He takes me from behind, fucking me relentlessly.

I cannot hold on myself, his moans are so dark yet so soft. I tremble into one orgasm after another. I feel Qui-Gon using the force, pushing my buttons, pressing softly against the most sensitive spots as he thrusts into me.

I look into the corridors, fearing someone could stumble into this scene, into me, being fucked by a member of the Jedi Council. He seems to notice my fears as he utters his direction, aiming directly for my weak spot.

"Feel, dont think.", I gasp, not able to do anything more than melt under him, his motions, his presence.

I practicaly sink down, allowing him to pound even deeper into me. I can feel that he's close now, his aura flickers around him, stretching out until it nearly burns me. I am force sensitive, but I never really got to use it. Now, as Qui-Gon is so close, i feel the force soaking me, infusing me. I feel powerless and more powerfull than ever at the same time.

Qui-Gon increases his pace, his moans get restless, nearly desperate. I merely manage to take it, feeling overwhelmed by coming over and over again. The force reacts to him, it reaches out to me, my body, nearly burns me.

I clench around him, I feel his cock pulsating as his cum fills my pussy. My legs shake as its warmth runs down my legs. I look at him, unsure what to do.

#star wars #qui gon jinn #qui-gon jinn #qui gon x reader #smut #fanfic #star wars prequels #sw prequels #liam neeson

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liam-neesons-best-girl · 6 months

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Caught {Qui-Gon Jinn x Reader}

Summary: You and Qui-Gon share an intimate morning that gets interrupted by Anakin who harbors a secret crush for you.

Warnings: 18+, mdni, F! reader, breastsucking, nipple play, being caught in the act, age gap (Qui-Gon is in his 40s, reader in their 20s, Anakin in his 20s), angst, nsfw

You were the first to wake. Eyes called open from the warmth of the sun cascading through the large window pane of Qui-Gon's bedroom. You stir from where you laid on your back to now face the handsome Jedi as he sleeps, free from stress and disturbances.

What better way to wake up than with kisses? You thought. Ever so lightly, you press soft pecks over his cheeks, chin, jaw, forehead and lastly on his lips. The final peck seems to pull him from the depths of his dreams and flutter his eyes open to see the goddess he has managed to call his own.

He couldn't help but stare at you. The sun projecting a hallow of light around your head. Skin so soft and warm from slumber, naked from the previous night's activities. He lazily kissed you back, mixing in words of affirmation and silly pet names.

As your movements became more passionate, you decide to sit up and lean your body over Qui-Gon to continue kissing and grant him access to fondle your plush breasts. The blanket that was once covering you slipped down to pool at the base of your hips.

Qui-Gon used his large hands to run down the length of your back to feel as much of you as possible. His kisses to your mouth turned to kisses and sucking at your nipples, causing your back to arch, pushing your ample breasts further into his face.

So enraptured by the feeling, your senses were delayed as you turned seconds after you heard the large wooden door creak open to see Anakin there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

His eyes were as wide as could be and the heaving of his chest was notable to you across the room. He couldn't look away from the ethereal figure before him.

He had always thought of you as beautiful but this was a revelation to him. You looked like the marble statues he saw in museums. You had the supple breasts of a breastfeeding mother, the tousled hair of a woman freshly fucked and the glow of an angel.

You however were mortified and screamed as if you were running around with you head cut off. Instantly dropping down into Qui-Gon's embrace you shake from self-consciousness and he grips you tight to his chest.

Now aware of the pain you are feeling and anger he has towards the young Jedi, Qui-Gon falls back on his protective nature and is darkened with rage.

"Anakin you must leave at once!" Qui-Gon all but barked at Anakin, which was enough to shake him from his thoughts of desire and envy to leave the room running.

All Anakin is thinking about is you. I want to be under her as she kisses me awake. I want to softly caress her skin, only I touch. I want to claim her as mine.

Turning his attention back to you, Qui-Gon hears your sniffles and hiccupped breathing. You were trembling with embarrassment.

Qui-Gon coos you up from the cave you dug between his chest and arm to reveal your red eyes and puffy lips. Qui-Gon held you close. His arms felt like a sanctuary of warmth and reassurance while he gently stroked your back in soothing circles, whispering words of love and understanding.

Later on he will give Anakin a stern talking to and remind him of the importance of privacy but for now, the two of you will lay in bed sharing a level of intimacy designed for only two souls.

Qui-Gon's thoughts are loud, but he picks up on louder ones coming from Anakin who is stoked with desire and craving a moment alone with you.

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throughparisallthroughrome · 2 months

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"In Darkness, We Transcend"

Chapter 2: Jedi and Their Dramatics

Series Description: In a mission gone wrong, Obi-Wan has vanished. It’s up to Anakin to find the ex-Jedi turned Michelin star chef who may know where he is. To say they don’t exactly get along would be an understatement. But with a shared goal, who knows what’s possible?

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Lots of swearing, use of knives, Anakin gets bitchslapped, mentions of cults, someone throws up.

A/N: Chapter 2! They actually meet in this one! Any and all feedback is appreciated :) it's been a while since I've written

Chapter 1

“Good service, Chefs! I’m proud of you all.” You smiled as you sat on the counter in front of the rest of your staff, front of house included.

You glanced around the room at their beaming faces; they shared your passion and brought your dream to life. You cared for them as much as you cared for the shared space. You appreciated their flaws and strengths, their passions and desires, and, more importantly, their work ethic and heart. You scanned their faces, memorizing every feature of those you cherished, and you felt a warmness in your chest. You would do anything to take care of those you loved.

“Okay, family time,” you adjusted your position on the counter as those around you got comfortable.

Family time was something you conceived during the first few weeks of opening. After “Like a Bantha!” initially opened, there was a lot of conflict. Family time was to diminish that. It brought the staff closer, opened room for discussion, and made people feel their voices were heard. You discussed things going wrong with service, what was broken, what you needed more of, etc. The staff was initially against it, but now it’s become a beloved tradition, and they no longer mind participating late.

“What’s going on?” You took a notepad and listened as the team expressed their concerns.

“Running low on stirrers.”

“Customers weren’t a major fan of the dessert tonight.”

“We need more drink specials.”

You smiled at your staff as the room went quiet. Although the displeasure of the dessert kinda hurt.

“That’s all? What an easy night!” You all laughed as you jumped off the countertop and grabbed a rag.

“You all know what’s next…” They griped, and you laughed as you poured a bucket of soapy water on the counter.

You scrubbed and scrubbed at the countertops, getting as many haphazard sauce stains out as you could, becoming increasingly more frustrated with their lack of movement. The more the grease refused to leave, the more your mind wandered. You thought about Gil and his unwelcome presence after so long. The sweat drips down your brow, and your heart rate increases as each thought becomes more intense and undesirable. You can’t have your heart broken like that, and you aren’t willing to lose everything.

You considered your history with Gil and the precarious things you did for him and others. All in the name of the greater good, in the name of research. Was it all really worth it? Why did The Order put you up to? Your time with the Children of Nox was traumatic, and for it all to go to waste. However, it did bring you “Like a Bantha!” and your dream was fulfilled. But it didn’t disregard your behavior. It didn’t justify the sleepless years, the nightmares, the panic attacks, the anxiety and several doctor appointments, the mental and physical scars. It didn’t excuse driving you away from everyone and everything you ever loved, tearing you from the inside out, and sending you into a deep depression.

You couldn’t go back to that mental state. You wouldn’t. You fucking refused.

Owning this restaurant saved you.

You felt remorse in your heart for leaving your parents, especially Padme. You missed her terribly. She was everything. You were so proud of her and everything she’s accomplished, and you knew she would be proud of you, too, if you actually reached out to her. As you scrubbed harder and your mind wandered further, your brain took you somewhere foreign.

Someplace you were quick to recognize wasn’t your own.

You peered down suddenly at your metal hand, stretching it out and feeling far more confused than you were before. Where the FUCK were you?

“Ani, how serious is it?” With that, your head shot up, and looked into her eyes. Padme.

“Is Y/N safe?” She continued to question, and you felt your stomach drop.

“Y/N!” You felt your arms shake you back into place. Turning around, you saw Cora with her hands on your shoulders and the rest of the staff looking concerned. You felt uneasy and off balance, all eyes on you as you tried to pick yourself back up and out of your confused state.

“Sor-” Just as you thought you could speak, the nausea hit you, and you were throwing up in the nearest trashcan.

“Woah, Chef, slow down there.” Luca tried to help you get a little more stable as Cora reached and pulled your hair back. You felt awful.

“Guys,” You coughed a little into your hand before standing up fully and addressing those around you.

“I’m okay, just excuse me for a second. You’re all excused. Go get some rest. Thank you for a great service. Cora, please stay here with me tonight.” They all nodded, the concern not leaving their faces as you walked to the nearest bathroom, feeling more ashamed.

You looked into the mirror and noticed the large bags under your eyes. You swore they weren’t as bad as they looked right now. You carefully traced the scar on your cheekbone, feeling the memories coming back as your finger gently made contact with your skin. It burned like it did when you received it for the first time, the shame not leaving your face.

Your final fight with Amara left you bruised and battered, with the scars to prove it.

You splashed cold water on your face and rinsed your mouth before returning to the kitchen. Cora was scrubbing the stove, and you could feel her aggravation increasing as she struggled to remove whatever was caked on it.

“Here, Cora, let me help.” She stepped aside as you gently rubbed circles over the spot with the rag. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the force do some of the work for you.

“You know, when I was in your shoes, this was my least favorite part of the night.” You smiled at her as you lifted the rag up to reveal the clean stovetop, no longer plagued by a stubborn stain. Cora rolled her eyes.

“So you’re telling me this isn’t your least favorite part of the night? Scrubbing the kitchen at midnight?” You gently laughed as Cora looked at you, slightly bewildered.

“No, actually, this way, I get out all of that anger I feel during service. Very therapeutic. I would be a lot angrier if it wasn’t for this. Probably wouldn’t make a very good boss, now would I.” You laughed, and Cora giggled at your response.

‘What would you say your least favorite part is, then?”

You cocked your head to the side slightly, wanting to give her an honest response.

“Honestly,” You plunged the rag back into the bucket of soapy water. “The first ticket of the night. There’s a lot riding on that. For me, it determines how the rest of the night is going to look. It determines my attitude. I just need it to be perfect, and sometimes it isn’t. And that sucks, but I mean, we’re all doing our best. I just need to remember that more. But yeah, definitely the first ticket. This is the easy part. The work is already done at this point.”

“I never thought of it like that!” She grins as you head over to wipe down the sides of the counters.

“Chef,” She comes over to you, her voice slightly wavering.

“Can I ask what happened earlier?” You look up, feeling uneasy about this conversation.

You smile at her as you sit on the floor, and she carefully joins you. You wanted to debate this further but didn’t see the point. You trusted Cora, and she could probably use the advice anyway.

“I- uh,” You shift in your steps, trying to find the right words. “I had a vision.” Cora tilts her head in confusion as she lifts up from the grout she was scrubbing.

“What kind of vision, Y/N?” She turns her full attention to you, awaiting your response.

“I mean, it was nothing serious, just-”

“Like a force vision?” She stands up and steps towards you. You feel yourself giggle nervously at her question.

“Well, yes, actually,” you stand up, throwing the rag back into the bucket on the counter. Cora lends you a slight smile, sensing that this is a tricky subject.

“I used to be a Jedi. A great Jedi, actually. I loved the order; was even almost ranked master. Some things got in the way, and you know, one thing led to another- and I left.” You fidget with the ring on your thumb, slowly lifting your head to meet your eyes with Cora’s.

“Chef, I had no idea.” She smiles gently at you while placing a hand on your shoulder.

You move away from her touch and laugh things off in an attempt to feel more comfortable. This was more opening up than you had done in a long time. You felt weak, hurt, and ashamed about your past with the Jedi. Admitting it out loud to someone who respected you was more complicated than you wanted to admit.

“It was in the past. I’m here now. This is my future, and I love it.” You look around at the room you created, purely a physical manifestation of your greatest dreams and desires.

“I love it too, Chef.”

“Then let’s get back to work.”

With a single knock on the Senator’s door, Anakin was already nervous.

He had too much on his mind. Where was Obi-Wan? What was this cult? What did they want, and especially from Kenobi? And what did her sister have to do with it? Knocking on the door of a woman he was once infatuated with was the least of his concerns. Every single part of him did not want to be here. He hated being reminded of the rejection, and her occasional flirtation did not help. Now, it was him that just wanted to be friends. But he really needed her help.

“Anakin!” His thoughts were broken by the delicate voice of Padme Amidala, a smile spread across her face as she observed her old friend in front of her.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” She steps out of the way as Anakin walks into her apartment, feeling as uneasy as he did when he knocked.

He takes in the familiar space from when he watched over her as a youngling. Times, indeed, have changed. He scanned the new color on the walls and the random papers spread throughout the room. New plants, new paintings, but the same Padme.

“I’m here on business, Senator.” Padme accepted his rejection and smiled, leading him through her penthouse to sit in a common area. Anakin took in the surrounding city, admiring its beauty through her highrise apartment.

“Master Kenobi is missing, and it seems the Council requests the help of your sister.” He looks down in his lap, refusing to meet her worried gaze. He takes the time to stretch out his metal hand as Padme’s heart drops. He has a feeling he won’t like where this conversation goes.

“Ani, how serious is it?” He looks up and meets the worry in her eyes, taking in the sudden change in body language and feeling slightly uncomfortable, as most of his fears concern Obi-Wan.

What does it matter if she’s involved? And why does she need to be involved? Why did the council always need to doubt him? Anakin could always feel bitterness growing within him when debating the decisions and morals of the Jedi Council.

“Is Y/N safe?” Padme furrows her brows as she searches for an answer in Anakin’s face. Nothing.

“As far as I know- she is safe.” Anakins stands up and walks around the side of the sofa, peering outside as he begins to pace. This is taking longer than he needs it to.

“But I need to find her. The Council requests her involvement. She may be our only lead as to where Obi-Wan is and what the Children of Nox-“

“The Children of Nox?” Padme interrupts him suddenly as she jumps to her feet and directs his attention back to her, his face laced with confusion and apprehension.

“You never said they were involved. If Master Kenobi is with them, he is in grave danger. And I doubt Y/N may be of any help-“

“How come?” He feels the frustration rise in his voice. Your sister is our only lead to finding Obi-Wan. Please—just—tell me where I could find her, and I will figure out the rest from there.”

Padme rolls her eyes and scoffs as she walks to the window. Anakin obviously didn’t understand the gravity of the situation, and she felt her heart hurt as she thought about you and your history with them.

“Ani, all I’m saying is that Y/N may not get involved. She- well- she has a past with them. I just-“ She turns around to face Anakin, the concern radiating off her as he walks closer.

“Anakin, I can’t have her get hurt again. Not like last time.”

Anakin gently smiles at Padme.

“I promise she will be safe, Senator.”

“Alright, Cora, I think we’ve done enough cleaning for tonight.”

You both stand in front of the kitchen doors by Expo, taking in the work you did. The room practically sparkled. You did this after every service. It was insanity.

“Chef, Am I okay to leave?” Cora gently questions, already collecting her things. You giggle at this.

“Always, I’ll see you tomorrow, Chef. Get some rest.” You pat her back as she heads out the expo doors through the front entrance. You follow through the restaurant and lock the door behind her.

You slid down the door onto the floor and put your head in your hands. Your eyes were heavy; that end-of-night exhaustion was hitting you like crazy. You huffed and put your elbows on your knees as your hands held up your head. The restaurant was cold, empty, and dark. Everything was clean and in its place. It was a little creepy but peaceful. At least it was yours.

You stare at the tile, trying to slap yourself awake. There was still work to be done. You needed to go through expenses, start thinking about next month’s menu, email distributors, check inventory-

But before you could finish your thought, you heard a loud pan clatter, hitting the ground in the kitchen. The hair stood on the back of your neck, and your heart rate increased dramatically.

The back door was still unlocked. Fuck.

You quickly slide across the floor behind the host stand, listening for whatever you can. You hear more noise from the kitchen, the footsteps growing erratic as they walk around the counters. You crawl from the host stand to behind the bar, trying to catch the intruder in your line of sight. You hear muffled speech, and their footsteps grow louder.

You use the force to silently jump from the bar to the plant next to the kitchen doors. The intruder’s force signature is strong, unlike any you had ever felt before. You try to get inside their head and try to feel their feelings, but before you can, the footsteps stop right in front of the doors. You push yourself back up against the wall, holding your breath as you let the intricate, silver blade typically strapped against your leg slip down your sleeve.

The kitchen doors swing open, and a tall man walks through. Before either of you can think twice, you are behind him with your blade against his neck.

“State your business.” You spit, and he puts his hands up in defeat. You glance down and notice the familiar robes around him.

“Maybe if that knife wasn’t against my neck, I could tell you.” His voice is deep and confident. Suddenly, you were even more annoyed than before.

“You seem to have no trouble now. State your business.”

“You’re very strong in the force, Y/N.” You grip the blade against his neck harder, pushing it deeper into his skin. You see a slight bit of red as he hisses from your touch.

“I come on behalf of the Jedi Council. And Padme.” Your eyes widen as you back up and release the blade. He steps forward and turns around to face you. Fuck. Why did it have to be him?

His boots are scuffed around the toes, clearly from years of fighting in the wars. However, his Jedi robes were in pristine condition. Although you found the darker robes to be odd for a light-side force wielder, he wore it well. His lightsaber hung on his right hip, the shiny metal catching your attention. His shoulders were broad, and you could see the slightest bit of muscle definition underneath. His lips were curved into a subtle, arrogant smile. You took note of the scar on his eye, tracing all the way down the side of his face. His hair was brown and curly, slightly unruly, as the bags under his eyes explained everything.

You cleared your throat, realizing you had been staring for a while. Turning your head to the side, you made eye contact with the Jedi.

“Padme sent you?” He rolled his eyes at this and scoffed.

“Yes. She sent me. I’m-”

“Anakin Skywalker. I know who you are.” You put your hands behind your back, sliding the dagger back down your sleeve as you pace around him in circles.

He raises his eyebrows at this. You can feel him trying to reach into your mind. You gracefully block out his force signature and smile. He furrows his brows. That always works for him.

“Strange because I seem to have no idea who you are! And if you know who I am, then you must know that I am here out of dire importance-”

“What’s strange, Skywalker, is that I haven’t been a Jedi in years. And yet the council sends you after me. I can’t imagine it’s because they miss me.” He clicked his tongue and looked at the ceiling, the annoyance radiating off of him. He did not want to be here. You could use that to your advantage.

You knew him more profoundly than the “Hero With No Fear.” You resented Anakin Skywalker. And he had no idea who you were. You feel your blood boil as this arrogant prick in front of you stifles a laugh at your comment.

“Y/N, I-”

“Shut the FUCK up.” You get into his face, the dagger slipping into your hand and pressed to his chest. You let the anger take hold of you. Of all the years the council kept you two apart- kept you in the shadows away from their beloved chosen one- they suddenly send him to retrieve you?

“You break into MY place of work, name drop MY sister, and suddenly tell me that the order I left years ago is desperate for my help-”

“I didn’t say desperate-” You slap him. He grins.

“Jesus Christ, are you always like this?” You exclaim, and he smiles at you once again. He was handsome, but fuck was he aggravating!

“Obi-wan is missing. You are the only person that could help. I don’t know what the fuck your issue is with me, but-”

“Obi-wan’s gone?” You step back, feeling your heart sink. If only he had led with that.

“Yeah, if you had just let me talk instead of trying to kill me-” You scoff. He broke in. You had every right.

“Skywalker, this isn’t-”

“Would you stop interrupting me?” He puts his hands on either side of your shoulders, and you quickly step away, shrugging his touch off of you. He grins at you once again.

“Fine, continue. Sorry.” You leaned back against the bar, anxious to hear what the Jedi had to say.

“Like I was trying to say,” He begins to walk closer to you, “Obi-Wan never returned from a mission to Chandrilla. He was supposed to meet their general to discuss the war efforts. My padawan-”

“Your padawan? Where were you?” You raise your voice at him again and step forward, getting closer to his face as he takes a deep breath.

“I was away. It’s beside the point. She turned around to show Master Kenobi something, but he was gone. She told me she blacked out and woke up on the ship with no Obi-Wan, but this left on the dash.”

He comes closer to you and opens his one-gloved hand to show you a pendant you were all too familiar with. Fuck.

You put your hand over your mouth as you feel your body become weak. You sway momentarily, and he puts his other arm out to stabilize you. He cocks his head at the sight of you, confused by your reaction. He notices your tired eyes, the emptiness behind them accompanied by your shaky hands and loss of balance.

“Woah there- you okay, Y/N?” You look up at him and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before opening them up and clearing your throat, never once making eye contact with him.

“You do need me.” You sigh, sitting down on the barstool in defeat as he narrows his eyes in confusion. “I’m the only one who’s ever infiltrated the Children of Nox. I’m the only one that could get Obi-Wan back.” You look at the ground in disappointment.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he whispers, coming closer, his eyes searching for any emotion from you.

“Well, Anakin,” You look up, meeting his blue eyes, “I’m afraid I can’t explain it just yet. Obi-Wan is the priority, and I don’t think we have much time. How long has he been missing?”

“2 rotations.” He gulps, and you sigh once again.

“Fuck.” You momentarily put your head in your hands, allowing yourself to process this entire night. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, the fucking chosen one shows up on your doorstep.

“We need to move.”

He nods and holds his hand out for you to grab. You stand up and walk past him into the kitchen. He sighs before graciously following you.

You pick up the pan off the floor and roll your eyes. The Jedi have such a touch for the dramatic. Couldn’t he have just knocked on the front door like a normal person? You begin to grab your things out of your office in a hurry, making sure you have everything you need. Anakin leaned against the doorway, watching your anxious movements. You were just as anxious as him about this- did you have a connection with Obi-Wan he wasn’t aware of? Or could this be your fault?

“Come on, we need to move.” You broke him out of his speculation, eyes trailing after you as you closed the kitchen down for the night.

“Y/N,” He hastily walked behind you, eager to catch up. “Where are we going?”

“Down a few levels.” You yelled back as you powered everything down.

“Hurry the fuck up, Skywalker!” You smiled at him and he shook his head.

This was going to be a long road.

Chapter 3

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yourneighborhoodporg · 11 months

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The Guardian

Chapter 4: Arrival (Part 1)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: mention of slavery, mention of character deaths, reference to life-threatening danger, sleep deprivation, sorrow, angst, stern Mace, fluff, banter, some reader/Anakin bonding :) and worried Obi :(

Summary: The days leading up to your arrival have been cumbersome for both you and Anakin— the two of you struggle together with these life-altering changes thrust in front of you by the Galaxy. As the group reaches Coruscant, new revelations are made that further urge Obi-Wan to meet with The Council as soon as possible: to discuss your discovery, and its consequences.

Song Inspo: Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up) — Florence + The Machine

Words: 6.1K

A/n: Ahhhh!! You all are so lovely. Hope you like this chapter. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts in the comments (and message if you'd like to be on the taglist!)

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Series Masterlist

Hibernation is a covert preparation for a more overt action — Ralph Ellison

“A war…”

Anakin’s hand loosely tilted a throttle lever to the right as the shuttle approached Coruscant only a few thousand kilometers away. Its spherical body crept into the viewport like a loth-cat poised for attack while your voice filled the cabin.

The peaceful lull of space gave the young Jedi a moment to glance back at the conversation taking place. He looked beyond Ahsoka, who was cozied up in the shuttle seat directly behind him, legs thrown over an armrest and a Datapad resting comfortably against her knees. As she typed away, you sat beside her quizzically, eyes fixed in an aimless direction with a cheek resting gently on your fingertips in thought.

You’d inquired twelve hours into the trip about galactic events that occurred during your last ten years of total isolation, and it took the remaining two days for Obi-Wan to provide you with a very abbreviated version. The wise Jedi spent much time on The Order’s growth throughout the years and various blips in the peace, like the Invasion of Naboo. Only in the last few hours did he arrive at the topic of the Separatist war. Your shock at being for so long completely unaware of the galactic battles taking place was palpable.

Anakin delved deeper into his memories of the last few days in this cramped, rickety shuttle as it traversed from the Outer Ring across the galaxy. Specifically, those late nights in which he chose to keep the ship off autopilot and fly it manually, long after Master Kenobi and Ahsoka had fallen asleep in the back.

In the dimmed lighting, his mind still rushed with questions about your discovery. He had anxiety about what your sudden appearance in his life meant, and frustrations from not being informed of your existence. So Anakin decided it would be easier to manipulate the bird’s mechanisms himself. To keep his mind from wandering too far into further misgivings.

On both such quiet evenings, he recalled your restlessness. You shuffled aimlessly in the rear cabin, from your back to your side, and after a few seconds, to your stomach with a defeated plonk. Eventually, after many noisy readjustments, he’d hear an exasperated sigh before you’d roll over and rise to your feet. He’d sense you quietly sneak up behind the co-pilot’s seat and, each night, you’d unceremoniously plop down beside him, leaning back with arms crossed and staring out the viewport as if it was just the lullaby you’d needed.

He’d peer at you, noticing your subtly sunk in eyes, before once again making the same comment.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

And after a few drawn-out moments filled with only the silent hum of the shuttle’s engines, he’d ask a question. Nothing grandeur or serious. Just anything to lead to a conversation. To pass the time.

“Have you ever thought about where you’d want to visit? After leaving Hoth?” He spoke lowly.

And your head cocked with an imaginative gaze stuck ahead before answering with a small smile.

“I’ve always wanted to play grav-ball, and I’ve heard Nubia has some of the best teams. So probably there.”

Anakin nodded approvingly. “Coruscant has them too.”

And your smile widened as you twisted toward him. “Really?”

Then your interest was piqued. And you’d continue the conversation or make some completely unrelated, lighthearted query. Either way, the two of you would talk for hours during those calm nights in the old, decrepit shuttle.

It was during these late-night talks, that Anakin had the chance to uncover more of who you were. He brushed away at your sentiments, uncovering your interests like hidden gems while simultaneously sharing his own. The both of you seemed to have a great deal in common.

And that helped ease his mind.

Anakin turned back to the controls to prepare the shuttle for approach as it neared the planet’s gravitational pull, shutting off the main ion drives.

“And the Jedi as Generals? Controlling an army of clones?”

He watched as you shook your head and sighed, pressing your lips together as if mourning a memory.

“I always thought The Order was built to preserve peace in the Galaxy. Qui-Gon always made that clear. The Jedi were protectors, not stokers of conflict.”

“The Jedi have always been and will prevail as keepers of the peace.” Obi-Wan clarified.

His stance held firm behind the co-pilots seats, leaning against it with arms crossed as he analyzed your reactions carefully.

“We act in this war to do just that. The cohesiveness and strength of The Republic would be destroyed if The Separatist Alliance remained. You know as well as most from your studies that an existence like The Old Republic would act as an open cut to agents of the Dark Side.”

Anakin noticed as your eyes misted over in a dazed fashion.

“Forces like Maul…” You murmured.

Exhaling soberly, Anakin digested your solemn expression. Watching your mind struggle to process this newfound mountain of information was bringing back his own troubling memories from his youth. He never was the strongest enthusiast for change, and some of the most extreme adjustments he’d made involved similar exposure to newly dire circumstances. Whether that be learning he’d be hungry for another day, or of some plan to sell him off to another slave owner like cheap merchandise.

As a boy, he found himself best distracted from these circumstances by a new tinkering project, or by those rare moments of frivolity in such tumultuous times.

Yet here he was, already focusing his mind on fiddling with the outdated shuttle in front of him as he had done for the past few days. An expression of levity seemed to be the next logical step, he thought.

“Well, remember?” He grinned at you lightheartedly. “You don’t need to worry about him anymore. Master Kenobi put him in his place.”

Anakin observed as the corner of your mouth twitched upwards, stirring his own to take a wider stance. The momentary lift in your spirits was short-lived, although, as your lost eyes lifted from the floor, disoriented by your mind.

“It’s almost poetic.” You mused, a rueful chuckle falling from your lips. “The very beings my Master protected me from destroyed him in the end.”

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan who stroked his beard inquisitively as he mulled over your words in profound concentration. His narrowed gaze briefly met Anakin’s as if searching his irises for an answer to some distant, dubious puzzle.

The former Padawan raised a brow at his Master’s countenance, silently asking what he did to warrant such an expression. Then, Obi-Wan’s lips abruptly parted in realization as he spun back toward you. Anakin took that as his cue to refocus his energy on the rapidly approaching planet whose gravitational field pulled them forward, marking the bird at only a hundred kilometers away.

“Qui-Gon did protect you…” Obi-Wan suspired earnestly as if hearing his own words for the very first time.

He gesticulated with a hand. “His final moments, his face, is forever etched into my mind.”

Kenobi’s sentence broke off. The pensive Jedi opened and closed his mouth a few times while he formulated his thoughts, as if questioning the significance of each word.

“In the thousands of times I’ve gone over his death, I was always taken by the complete peace, the confidence, with which he entered The Force.”

He paused once more, lips tugged upward and eyes glossed in wonder.

“It was because of you.”

Anakin spun fully around, facing the two of you as Obi-Wan dotted that final claim. He noticed your head shoot up at them from its lulled position.

“What do you mean?” You inquired, your eyes adrift in a sea of perceptible perturbation.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Anakin piped up bewildered.

He prayed to the Maker that his former Master wasn’t in any way implying that you had anything to do with his Qui-Gon’s death.

Yet Obi-Wan was undeterred by the assortment of sentiments swirling around him.

“When he first discovered that Maul was a Sith.” He began excitedly. “He must have realized the threat to you. Yes, he was protecting you from the Sith for most of your life, but The Order hadn’t encountered them for a thousand years. And yet, he appeared before Qui-Gon on Tatooine, and then…Naboo.”

Obi-Wan exhaled, letting his arms fall to each side as you leaned forward, watching him intently with hands now clasped firmly beneath your jaw.

Anakin could tell that your silver stare intimated even his former Master. He watched as the Master Negotiator not so subtly eyed the hull’s roof to escape your gaze.

“It is possible, that tracking you down was part of Maul’s mission. He may have discovered your connection to Qui-Gon.”

Kenobi sighed, stroking his chin. “Our former Master likely came to the same conclusion.”

Anakin saw as Obi-Wan’s eyes fell to connect intensely with yours, a smile lingered on the bearded Jedi’s features as his eyes creased in tranquility.

“You should find solace in the fact that you made his final moments most comforting. His death ensured that the Sith would never discover your whereabouts. I’m sure that gave him peace.”

For the first time today, Anakin registered a twinkle in your radiantly silver eyes as you silently thanked the older Jedi with a lift in your cheeks, leaning back into your seat comfortably.

The Chosen One glanced between the two of you as the gaze held. He knew Qui-Gon’s death weighed heavily on Kenobi’s soul. It strongly influenced his choices on the battlefield, and stuck to him like Chewstim during meditation sessions. Yet Anakin rarely heard Obi-Wan discuss the experience. Let alone with serenity blooming from his features like a Tarisian rose that had just escaped a long, winter hibernation.

Your mutual connection to Qui-Gon seemed to help heal these old wounds, and Anakin was grateful for that.

“Enough with the sappiness, Master,” Anakin exclaimed with a lively lilt, breaking the tension as he spun back toward the shuttle’s controls.

Obi-Wan shot Anakin an annoyed look. The teasing Jedi pushed a throttle lever down before programming the shuttle for atmospheric reentry on the left control set.

“I think Silvey would much rather take in our arrival.”

Anakin didn’t need to reach into the force to sense your amused brow’s rapid surge upwards. Obi-Wan stepped around the co-pilot’s seat, shaking his head in surrender as he settled into the chair, smoothing out his robe on either side.

“You sure know how to ruin a moment, Sky-Guy.” Ahsoka pipped up.

Her gaze remained fixed on the Datapad. Yet her comment only amplified his mischievousness.

“Silvey?” Anakin heard you question with feigned indignation as he entered the final commands into the shuttle interface, engaging the secondary thrusters.

The spirited Jedi snatched the navigational lever, pushing it down to lead the craft into Coruscant’s exosphere before glancing over his shoulder at your postured displeasure. He smirked as your eyes met, forcing a dampened smile to surface on your own countenance.

“Hey, don’t blame me! I could spot your silver eyes from a million parsecs away. It’s only fitting.” He defended.

Then, a particularly tantalizing observation entered his thoughts.

“Would you prefer Shorty?”

You chucked darkly, squinting at The Chosen One with a challenging glare as he brought the shuttle’s nose into a deeper dive.

Your lips pursed upwards. “If looks could kill, Anakin. If looks could kill…”

The pilot beamed at your playful remark. “Well, at least take a break from stabbing me with those freakishly sparkly things.” He quipped, waving you away. “You’re missing the view.”

Out of the corner of his focused stare, Anakin observed your head rise. You were immediately taken by Coruscant’s giant mass, a faded blue and gray planet with billions of lights forming golden circles that were interconnected like a geometric map. Your mouth loosened in astonishment with each glossy orb stuck to the viewport. He noticed you lean forward, as if pulled by some unknown force, resting your elbows on each knee with your chin fitted on clasped hands.

Satiated by your raised spirits, Anakin refocused on the throttle, pushing it down further to bring the shuttle into Coruscant’s baby blue troposphere. The ship began to quiver as the hull took the brunt of the friction.

For a few turbulent seconds, his vision was blocked by the vast array of rounded, white clouds. The cabin’s heat intensified as the edges of the viewport started to burn a fiery red.

But soon, the shuttle broke through the white veil’s final wisps, displaying the towering cityscape, which rolled like jagged hills and consumed the viewport. The sun was beginning its final crawl to dusk, filling the sky with a deep orange fire whose smoke billowed into dark blues and purples. The streams of light illuminated the busy skylanes, resembling the endless march of Endorian ant colonies. They brought life to Coruscant’s still landmarks.

“It’s beautiful.”

Anakin covertly peaked at you, registering the astonishment plastered on your face. He assumed for a being that’s only known endless snow banks and harsh winters all their life, that this experience would be terribly intimidating, terrifying even.

He thought back briefly to ten years prior. When he first came to Coruscant, he was petrified. Scared of this new environment. Of this added drastic change to his life.

But he was mostly afraid for his mother. For her fate back on Tatooine. Under Watto’s thumb, only to be bought by Lars, and then…

It permeated his being. Haunted him for years. Pulled at his heart with the constant mass of a planet, swinging like a pendulum with each reminder, each ache. And, still, he carries it with him today. But now, with a deeper anger. A stronger guilt.

But you seemed to take it all in with grace.

And Anakin admired that.

The Temple swiftly grew into view as the shuttle descended. The heat surrounding the hull began to recede. Anakin rolled the lever, bringing the shuttle in for a curved landing. He aligned the ship with one of the protruding hangars, the whole of which he believed resembled an upside-down lollipop. At least when he was a youngling.

After thumbing a few buttons on the control panel to release the landing gear, Anakin pressed the lever down, encouraging the craft to speed to the circular platform nose first. He turned the throttle once more to the right, slowing the ship by aligning its door with the hangar entrance, allowing for a slow, final descent.

The ship jostled slightly as it met the landing pad, signaling Anakin to begin a systems-wide power down, staring at the main control panel.

Another happy landing.

As he flicked off the last switch to power down the engines, Anakin felt an audible rumble from within, compelling him to focus on the sudden ache in his stomach.

It had been a while since he had a good meal with the back-to-back missions and low stock of ration bars. Not that he ever considered that bantha fodder food.

Usually after a long away mission, he would grab a speeder from The Temple and take a quick trip to the Senate Building. He’d roam the halls nonchalantly, chest puffed to signal an air of importance, like he had a very official reason to be there. Then, he would ‘aimlessly’ stroll to Padmé’s office.

Once he arrived with a covert knock at the door, Padmé would welcome him inside with a warmhearted smile. He would then spend some time resting on one of her guest seats meant for senatorial colleagues, attempting to entertain himself with the mechanisms of his saber’s hilt. But it wasn’t long until he began to distract Padmé from her work, eventually convincing her to call it an early night. The two of them would grab a meal in her spacious Coruscanti apartment that overlooked The Temple from a few miles away. But he was never intrigued by that view. His eyes remained fixed on her.

Yet despite all this daydreaming, Skywalker knew his wife was still on Naboo, managing the consequences of donating a vast array of medical supplies to another planet. Her responsibilities on her home world exponentially swelled in the last few months, so he wasn’t entirely sure when he’d next see her.

No one knew when they’d see each other next during wartime. Or if they would ever meet again.

If these musings indicated anything, it was that Anakin eagerly hoped to spend some downtime with the people he was closest to. No war planning. No cargo transports. No battle charges. Just a nice meal and entertaining conversation. And he knew just who he wanted to spend that time with.

Anakin stood, stretching his arms into a spin just in time to witness the very person he hoped to talk to swing her legs back over the seat they were sprawled out on before jumping up and charging for the door.

“What’s got you in such a rush?” He called after Ahsoka as she jostled the shuttle door open.

The orange light of the setting sun invaded the ship with a jolt, casting large shadows on the scattered groups of hangar workers, the closest of which approached the ship to take it off Anakin’s hands once the final three passengers exited.

She leaped out, landing delicately on the tips of her toes before turning into a backward jog.

“If I don’t finish this physics paper by midnight, Master Plo Koon is gonna kill me!” She yelled, shaking her datapad in the air. “Catch you later!”

Anakin’s gaze followed her sprinting form down the hangar’s walkway until she disappeared into the inner bay behind a small cruiser.

“Ok.” Anakin huffed before facing the two remaining Jedi with a grin. “At least the three of us can grab dinner.”

He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“I’m afraid the two of you will have to enjoy without me,” Obi-Wan admitted as he glanced at Anakin. “The Council likely planned an emergency meeting concerning the recall of the Jedi from the front lines. I need to check in immediately.”

Anakin’s smile faltered. He inwardly groaned at Kenobi’s resolute dedication to rules and regulations. He was sure The Council could have waited half an hour, but Anakin knew Obi-Wan’s mind was set.

Obi-Wan twisted on his heels to face you. “I will also inform them about you.”

“Shouldn’t I be there then?” You questioned.

All hope of eating with one of his traveling companions drained from Anakin’s spirit. Maybe he could meet with one of them later instead, he thought. He supposed he could put off food for a bit, perhaps continue on that pilot droid project he hadn’t had a chance to work on for a while. But then he’d probably need to take a quick trip to Level 1782. Last time Anakin checked, he was low on spare parts.

“No,” Obi-Wan claimed.

Skywalker’s ears perked at that.

“That will not be necessary. They will likely need to confer without your presence for now.”

You silently agreed as Anakin internally sighed in relief.

Obi-Wan nodded to the both of you before turning to the hangar walkway, hurriedly traipsing toward his exit.

Anakin took a more leisurely pace in the same direction as you followed behind. An uncomfortable silence took hold as he guided the both of you into the inner hangar. The bustling noise of your surroundings amplified the awkwardness as the two of you closed in on the larger groups of hangar workers, barking out loud commands and using various tools, like sonorously whirring drills, to update or fix the conglomerate of crafts that idly scattered the zone.

Anakin felt his nose begin to tickle, perhaps from distant smoke. But he was too worried that it may prolong the uncomfortably fresh turf between the two of you if he tried to scratch it.

“So…” You spoke somewhat unsure of yourself. “What is there to do that’s fun around here?”

Anakin’s whole body froze, stopping dead in his tracks from eager surprise as if he were caught in a carbon-freezing chamber. He spun toward you, immediately seizing your shoulders with a steady clasp.

“What did you say?” He asked intently, excitement radiating up his spine and diffusing to his fingertips.

He observed your figure stiffen slightly at his agile animation. You raised a questioning brow as you opened your mouth with a hesitant pause, seemingly unsure if you should ask again.

“Do Jedi raised in The Order…not do anything….leisurely?”

The confident Jedi chuckled coolly while throwing an arm around your shoulder as you both exited the hanger into The Temple, pivoting to stroll down the hall opposite from Obi-Wan’s trail.

“I think we are going to get along very well, Silvey.” He hummed self-assuredly.

You rolled your eyes. “Not if you keep calling me that.”

“I promise you, you’re not gonna mind that nickname after I show you one of the most leisurely activities on all of Coruscant.” He assured.

You glanced at Anakin with lifted features. “But I thought you were hungry.” You teased

Anakin scoffed. “Food can wait. Now, tell me, Silvey.” Anakin dreamed as he patted your shoulder. “Did Qui-Gonn ever tell you about the Wicko District?”

—

General Kenobi maintained his nimble gait down the primary walkway to the High Council Chamber. His robes billowed as he passed an abundance of lounging Jedi, some conversing to the sides or keeping a moderate pace as they made their way to an unknown destination on either side of him.

Soon into his journey, Obi-Wan crossed paths with his old mentor Master Cin Drallig, followed by a group of twelve rowdy younglings whose voices bounced off the temple walls. Maybe they were asking questions, or telling a story, but the bearded Jedi couldn’t tell. Each utterance overlapped like a cacophony of crashing speeders.

Yet almost immediately, they noticed his presence, twirling away from each other to respectfully greet one of their long-held role models.

“Hello, Master!”

“Hello, younglings.” General Kenobi smiled.

He looked back to Master Dralli, catching his tired, yet fulfilled stare. They each exchanged a dutiful, yet brisk nod before continuing on their respective paths.

Obi-Wan always felt dwarfed by the massive olive-gray pillars that buttressed The Temple’s lofty ceilings. As a youngling, the golden archways seemed to stretch out endlessly in each direction, giving the effect of an infinite mirror when he passed under them. When he aged, however, Obi-Wan learned to better understand the structure’s finite nature, yet he was still taken by its capacious essence. Each hall resembled a palace built thousands of years ago by Mandallian Giants, specifically constructed for their wide gates and broad shoulders. And it would coax his imagination into its unyielding grasp.

He remembers spending too much time simply sitting crossed in these halls during his youth. The youngling would rest his eyelids to visualize the giants’ roaring tramps shake the coral- and lilac-marble floors in succeeding thundering booms.

As Obi-Wan turned a corner, tread crossing onto the ocean blue carpet of the inner Temple, he reminisced about the time Qui-Gon caught him red-handed in the middle of one of these fantasies. It was many years before the late Jedi took him on as a Padawan.

Qui-Gon would always engage with the younglings when possible. He had a habit of outwardly encouraging all initiates in their studies, especially those who struggled with their training and emotional discipline. But he would also silently approve those rare moments in which a young Jedi took a moment to themselves. Whether that be exploring the Coruscanti entertainment district, playing Sabacc, or Obi-Wan’s respite of choice, daydreaming.

With eyes shrouded in darkness, he could almost smell the sweaty towering creature. Its footsteps sounded like cracks of lighting, and he could feel the room’s imperceptible rise in temperature from the creature’s sudden presence. If he really focused, its colossal, green-muscled foot would nearly breach the void in his sight, creeping from the corner of his left eyelid. The hair on his arms prickled at the beast’s sudden proximity.

“Meditating are you?”

The young Kenobi’s eyes sprung open, cheeks reddening as his eyes locked with the wise Jedi before him.

“Uhh, yes…Master.”

And Qui-Gon simply smiled.

Obi-Wan’s worries momentarily lifted at the memory, delight gracing his features. But that instant disappeared from his mind as quickly as it arrived. The Jedi refocused on the task ahead, passing one of the large Sage Master statues that shined like freshly polished copper to his right as The Council meeting room entered his vision.

Just outside the Chamber door stood Master Windu, leaning with his arm against the wall beside him as he continued his deep discussion with Master Yoda, who rested in his flying chair. The two of them spoke softly, and from Windu’s creased brows, General Kenobi could tell that it was serious. A few groups of Jedi Masters similarly congregated around the door, talking lowly. Kenobi could sense heightened anxiety trailing the air.

As he approached, Obi-Wan caught the corner of Mace’s eye. He turned to General Kenobi, offering a curt nod at his arrival as Yoda reoriented his seat toward the newly arrived.

“Late you are, Master Kenobi.”

“I apologize for the delay.” Obi-Wan relayed sincerely. “Our shuttle experienced some unexpected complications.”

Yoda hummed deeply at Obi-Wan’s words, indicating his acceptance of this explanation to Mace before taking his chair on a measured stroll down the walkway, back in the direction from whence Obi-Wan came. Windu and Kenobi shortly followed in step.

“The Council has already met to discuss the issue of recalling the Jedi.” Master Windu began as the trio ambled down the hallway. “We have suffered a communications incursion by the Separatists.”

Obi-Wan was astounded, brows furrowing in confusion as he absentmindedly rubbed his jaw.

“A breach in our secure transmissions…How is that possible?” He exclaimed.

“Unsure, we are,” Yoda answered. “Investigate, our specialists will.”

Mace addressed the troubled Jedi. “A number of troops stationed in obscure outer regions of multi-planetary battle sites were ambushed in the last few weeks. The only way they could have been discovered would be if their COMMs were tapped into. It is possible that the Separatists have somehow obtained some of our transmitter codes or found some other flaw in the communications system. Because we cannot use our wrist comms or holopads to send sensitive information to communicate this development, we’ve recalled the Jedi.”

“Continue the battles, the clones will. Send out Jedi temporarily with verbal directions for troops, we must.

“Until communications are secured.” Windu clarified. “The 212th and 501st have already received new instructions for a less critical mission on Aleen.”

Obi-Wan hummed in contemplation. “And how long do you believe this situation will last?”

Mace exhaled. “We won’t know until technicians look further into the issue. But it may be weeks, months.”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard as he ruminated about this concerning development. He trusted Commander Cody with his life, but still knew it would be difficult for the 212th to address more delicate missions in the near future without timely information from The Temple or even inter-troop comms.

“Concerned, we all are,” Yoda reassured, likely sensing General Kenobi’s unease.

“The Council will be informing all active Jedi in the Great Hall tomorrow morning. Make sure Anakin and his Padawan are present. And here.”

Windu reached into the right pocket of his robe, pulling out what Obi-Wan thought was a wrist comm, yet it seemed bulkier. An extra layer of wiring was hidden in an additional panel stuck underneath the control layer. Most notable was the thin, silver line of steel that encircled the device, something the General hadn’t seen on a comm before. He took it, feeling the mass in his palm. It felt cold, heavy, with a rusted button and weak indicator light.

He thought it ancient.

“It’s a comm from the old Temple emergency system. It’s completely separate from our current communications system so messages from these devices to regular comms will be secure. There are only enough for one per council member.”

Obi-Wan thanked the Master as he switched his current wrist link with the replacement, placing the former in his robe’s pocket.

“Still careful, we must be.”

Mace added. “Only use it to ask for meetings, not to share sensitive data.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “On the topic of sensitivity, I must inform you of a development.”

He breathed deeply, exhaling in a short burst as he gathered his complicated memories about you to present to The Council leaders.

“In our delay, Anakin, his Padawan, and I were on Hoth for a short time, where we met a being living alone on the planet’s surface.”

The two Jedi Masters listened intently as he continued.

“I discovered them to be a Gray Jedi, trained by Master Qui-Gonn himself. They claim to be The Guardian, a figure that is a part of The Chosen One prophecy, but was expected to be trained outside The Order. They are tasked with Anakin’s protection and guidance so that he may achieve his destiny. Their journey begins when dark forces threaten this fate.”

Mace’s eyes narrowed. “This is a bold claim, Master Kenobi. If anything, it sounds like a Separatist trick.”

Then, as soft as their nimble footfalls, Yoda uttered your name under his breath.

Obi-Wan’s head swiveled toward the Grand Master. “You know them?”

The shorter Jedi sighed, leaning back in his chair as his eyes glazed over in deep reflection.

“Gone, I thought they were, a long time ago.”

Mace’s brows raised as he turned to Yoda. “You know of this individual, Master?”

He nodded gravely, a light grunt resonated from his esophagus.

“Discovered them as an infant twenty-five years ago, I did. Kept a close eye on them, I had.” He sighed. “Killed by a dark power a year later, their parents were. Believed they died as well, I did.”

The Grand Master eyed General Kenobi carefully, as if the bearded Jedi made a mistake in his recollection.

“Interested to learn they are alive, I am.”

“A dark power…” Obi-Wan mused. “Master, do you believe a Sith may have been responsible? I have been theorizing that Maul’s presence on Tatooine could have had more than one motive.”

“Discovered their presence, you believe he did?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed. “And their connection to Qui-Gon.”

He paused, counting the years in his head.

“But Maul would have been too young when their parents passed.”

“The rule of two…” Mace hummed.

“A Master, then.” Yoda declared.

“Then The Guardian’s presence suggests that Maul may not be the last Sith,” Windu revealed. “If it’s true that their appearance suggests a new threat from the Dark Side.”

“During the Battle of Geonosis, discovered that Dooku may be a Sith, I did.” Yoga established. “Great darkness, I sensed in him.”

“Then he is the Sith Lord?” Mace speculated.

Obi-Wan agreed. “He would have been quite capable of taking their parents’ lives over two decades ago.”

“It would also explain The Guardian’s survival, if Dooku’s late Padawan discovered his plans and partially thwarted them before they were carried out,” Mace suggested.

“Informed The Council, Qui-Gon would have, if believed Dooku was a Sith, he had. Much we still do not know, there is.”

Windu exhaled, placing his middle and index finger against his right temple and thinking deeply about his next words.

“I would like to meet this Guardian myself.” He gestured to Kenobi. “Tomorrow in the Sparring Arena after the Great Hall announcement. It is important for The Council to determine whether they have the necessary physical and mental abilities, and the appropriate connection to the Force, to be a Jedi Knight. To join The Order. Otherwise, leaving them outside the purview of The Order could have dire consequences. That is if they are even prepared to fulfill such a destiny after nearly a decade of isolation.”

“Of course, Master.” Obi-Wan acknowledged. “But from what little I’ve seen, they seem quite capable of holding their own.”

Windu’s stare held firm. “Respectfully, Master Kenobi, I will be the one to determine that.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze fell. “Understood.”

He didn’t take the Master’s tone personally. Windu’s conformist nature and deep dislike for any Jedi activity conducted beyond the domain of The Council likely made his discovery of The Guardian prophecy an unwelcome one. Obi-Wan only hoped that Master Windu would still treat you as any other Jedi when testing your abilities. He remembers the wise Master’s negative reaction to Anakin’s discovery, due to his age at the time Qui-Gon requested that he be trained. You were much older than 10-year-old Ani, so he was convinced that would pose a problem for the talented swordsman.

And this was not the best time for you to be meeting resistance from The Order that you trained your whole life to serve so to continue its millennia-long mission of preserving the peace through light. The Master Negotiator didn’t need to employ his strong conversation skills to discern how the past few days’ overwhelming changes had been affecting you. That, in addition to learning of your Master’s passing, had made you restless on the journey here. It was hard to ignore, even while he settled in repose each night, your twisted form which struggled to sleep.

He empathized with you deeply.

The General was also, in some measure, apprehensive about the inevitable clash of personalities. He found you kind, considerate, but also unafraid to speak your mind, or express your inner sentiments. He admired Master Windu since he was a boy, but his no-nonsense approach? His uncompromising mental discipline and austere lessons? It would surely cause a collision of temperaments.

“A different name, they must go by,” Yoda announced.

Obi-Wan’s gaze rose curiously at this. “Master?”

“Know they are alive, Dooku cannot.”

“Nor any other actor of the Dark Side. Nor the Separatists.” Windu interjected. “Their existence could pose a significant weakness to the Republic’s image of enduring peace and light. If Separatist forces discover The Guardian’s identity and purpose from their birth name, they may believe that the destruction of a specific Jedi could leave us vulnerable.”

He paused, turning to Yoda to verify his conclusions, who languidly blinked in concurrence.

Mace’s peer twisted back toward Kenobi. “If dark forces found them once through their birth name, they can again.”

The Grand Master nodded in agreement. “Destroy The Guardian, they may otherwise try.”

Obi-Wan’s heart dropped at the notion. It was clear that your identity needed to be protected from these powerfully dark forces, lest you meet the same fate as your parents.

If your mission was to guard and guide Anakin, his former Padawan, and dear friend, then the determined Jedi believed it to be his personal assignment to aid you in that destiny. Now he knew that hiding your identity to the best of his ability would be part of that task. The side of the light needed you, and Obi-Wan’s deep connection to it and his cavernous desire to continue Qui-Gon’s decades-long efforts meant only one thing— he needed to protect you too.

“Anakin gave them a nickname.” The General recalled, head tilted and eyes scanning up an idle column as he thought back. “Silvey, if memory serves.”

Windu's brows raised, unsurprised.

“Then Silvey they’ll remain,” he concluded.

Yoda hummed, his disconcertion bubbling to the surface with lips creased in a downward turn. “Their true name, only the three of us, Anakin, and little Ahsoka will know. Kept secret, their identity must be. Inform The Council of the prophecy, we shall, once communications are refortified. But within the council, it must stay.”

Master Windu mumbled in unanimity. “We must not entertain any notion of emerging Sith. Not among the Jedi, nor publicly.”

“I understand the delicacy of the situation and will act accordingly,” Obi-Wan assured.

The bearded Jedi halted, turning to the elders before leaning into a slight obeisance. The other Masters slowed to a halt.

“If you will excuse me, Masters, I hope to find my travel companions before they divulge any information about The Guardian’s identity.”

“May the Force be with you, Master Kenobi,” Windu stated as he bowed adieu, Yoda following suit from his floating chair.

And with that, Obi-Wan turned away to begin his search for you, Anakin, and Ahsoka.

As the General quickened his stride down that long, colossally immortal walkway, he wondered where he might find the three of you. Ahsoka was probably in the Jedi Archives around the corner, assuming she was continuing her work on that paper for Master Plo Koon. So he decided to start there. He assumed you and Anakin were stationed in the refectory closest to the hangar, remembering the previously mentioned dinner plans,

Or maybe it would be better to try the refractory first, Obi-Wan thought. If experience served true, Anakin would not stay silent about your discovery for long. He hastened his pace while mumbling these plans under his breath.

“Yes, the refractory first.”

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