#so i guess it's not a surprise that i wish obi wan had thrown himself into the confrontation like a boar shoving the spear deeper

[potatoesandsunshine]

if obi wan had fallen during the mandalore stuff it would've fucked him up so bad he wouldn't have been able to fight well. that said him jumping into the savage/maul/palpatine fight would've been sooooooooooooooo

[chokemeanakin]

Give Me Love

Chapter Ten

Wc: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

“Master,” Anakin faltered on his way to the piloting chair. His eyes lingered on you for a long moment, unreadable. “I was wondering where you’d run off to after Grievous fled. Looks like you’ve earned yourself another vacation.”

Grievous had thrown him off a building? You’d heard legends about how awful the part-human mostly-droid General was, but you’d never been at the same battle as him before. A small part of you wished to see if the stories people told about him were true-- if he really was the feared Jedi-killer he was known for being all across the galaxy.

“That won’t be necessary this time,” Kenobi was thankful for the banter. It gave him an excuse to get his mind off the searing pain in his arm. “Thankfully, I have Y/n here to fix me up good as new.”

“You’re right. She is extremely capable, isn’t she?”

His eyes twinkled, just slightly so that only you could catch it. You smiled, chest blooming with warmth as your fears were all washed away. Things weren’t different because he’d been gone for so long. He still cared for you, the same as you cared for him. The war couldn’t change that.

“I would trust no one more with my saber arm,” Kenobi grunted again as you began to wrap gauze around his shoulder, fitting it into a makeshift sling.

“Enough flatter,” you hushed them both, though the smile was evident on your face. “Keep this ice on your shoulder and take it off if it goes numb. And don’t move too much-- we won’t know if you broke a bone until we get you x-rayed.”

You let him take over holding the ice pack to his shoulder, reaching into your medcase for some painkillers. You were scraping the bottom of the bottle, honestly surprised you even had any left to spare.

“Lucky you, you get the last two.”

Kenobi grunted in an attempt to laugh, and swallowed the pills you gave him. After waving off your attempts to get him to lie down somewhere, he stood with a groan and braced himself on the back of Anakin’s piloting chair. He began to heckle him, trying to kick him off so you could have a look at his head.

“What’s wrong with your head?” Your heart stuttered in your chest. You had seen a trickle of blood on his cheek, but that was it.

“It’s nothing,” Anakin growled at Obi-Wan, but gave his seat up anyway so the injured man could sit. He pressed a few more buttons on the piloting interface, putting the ship on autopilot as he stepped away. “Y/n, I’m fine.”

You were already pushing him by the shoulders to sit on the chair Obi-Wan had previously been occupying. He sat with a huff, crossing his arms childishly as you turned his face in your hands.

“See?” he mumbled. “Nothing to worry about.”

His forehead had been gashed open, from the top of his hairline to the tip of his eyebrow. Your blood began to beat thicker in your veins, the panic causing your stomach to knot as you got to work dabbing the blood away with some alcohol cloths. It looked worse than it was-- the cut wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, but it had bled a lot. Head wounds always do.

He winced slightly as you cleaned the wound, the half-second of pain crumpling his face causing your movements to freeze.

“I’m sorry,” you stroked his jaw with your other hand, the one that was holding his face steady. You hoped it would distract him from the sting.

Those blue eyes stared at you the entire time, unperturbed. “It’s okay, really. I’ve had worse.”

You assumed he was right. If this scratch was all he’d come out with after weeks on the battlefield, he was either really lucky or really skilled. You guessed it was both. The evidence of less fortunate encounters rested on his right thigh, clad in a leather-buckled glove. You couldn’t even imagine what that pain had been like.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you said this quietly, so Obi-Wan wouldn’t hear. Anakin brought his flesh arm up to hold your hand to his face, closing his eyes and relishing in the feel of your soft, smooth skin. He had desperately missed your touch, your voice, those steely eyes and that gentle strength. After so long wishing you were there to curl up beside him in the off chance he got to rest, you were finally here. Now, he was going to be selfish and make up for that lost time.

“We’ll be right back,” Anakin called to Obi-Wan with his eyes still closed, hand still holding your palm against his cheek. “Y/n’s going to come to engineering with me to help repair my arm.”

“Your arm? You mean the metal one? I didn’t know it was damaged.”

“Just a little waterlogged. Shouldn’t take too long… or maybe it will. We’ll see.”

Anakin stood, the tips of his fingers tickling yours. He led you out of the room, through the halls of the cruiser, slipping into an unoccupied resting room and slamming the lock on it.

“If you’re expecting me to know how to help you with your arm, you are very mistaken,” you admitted. “I know nothing about mechanics.”

Anakin blinked at you, and then laughed. That glorious, glorious laugh. His arms fell to his waist, where he unclasped his belt and then discarded it on the desk. His tabards came next, and then the robes underneath. You ogled him as he stripped, a steady flame rising to your cheeks, thawing out the weeks of grey-nothingness.

“Umm.. Anakin.. what are you doing?”

It was suddenly very hard to swallow as his bare middle was exposed to you, rippling with muscle. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but you were frozen in your spot, unable to do anything but stare.

“I’m getting out of these wet clothes so I can properly hold you,” he explained, bending down to dig through the drawers underneath the metal cot. He turned to eye you up and down, shamelessly lingering on every inch of your body. “I suggest you do the same.”

“Huh?” You looked down, seeing the blood stains splattered all over you. “Oh.”

He was pulling a loose-fitting recreational shirt over his head, the same kind that was supplied in all resting rooms for people to wear if they wanted to sleep in something more comfortable. You were still rooted in your spot, forcing yourself to gather enough wits to unzip your field suit.

All you were wearing underneath was a black undersuit, tight enough to leave little to the imagination. It was meant to keep you warm and wick away moisture, not to be seen in by any incredibly sexy Jedi Knights. Your heart hammered in your chest, skin beginning to sweat as his eyes probed into you.

“You need help unzipping?”

“Uh… I got it,” your fingers snapped to your zipper, now that he was watching you, you didn’t want to be a fumbling idiot.

You were glad for when he seemed to become enamored by the state of his clothes, and you knew it was for your sake. Still, it did little to calm the pounding of your heart as the suit dropped to your ankles, every inch of your black-spandex clad body now available to his eyes.

Get it together. Your chest was visibly moving up and down as you fought to control your breathing, almost panting with anxiety. It’s not like you were naked. What a fucking virgin.

He turned from his pile of clothes, those blue eyes making no effort to hide the way they scanned you up and down. All you could do was stand there at his mercy, burning under that stare.

You expected him to frown. To snarl and pull away and tell you to get dressed again. How disgusted, he should be, you thought. How appalled.

You knew you didn’t have the best body. You’d been to enough nightclubs, seen enough people naked in your workstation, watched enough programs on the holonet to know that. You had always wanted to be like Ahsoka and Sabè— they were slim and toned, long and graceful. Their cheeks were sharp, their fingers elegant, and waists tiny. Your thoughts turned to Padme— his past lover— horrifying you further.

You were nothing like her.

That tiny frame, the beautiful face, and the perfect body. She was so smart, so important, and shaped so womanly. You were nothing to compare.

How could he even stand to look at you?

“Okay, I guess I’ll come to you then,” that silky voice teased, and suddenly you were wrapped in a pair of big, strong arms. It took a moment for your breath to return to your lungs before you realized he hadn’t pushed you away, and instead he was clutching you to his body like a starving man.

“I missed you,” he breathed into your ear, cementing this reality. Your body erupted in a flurry of butterflies, warming you from the inside out.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care. He still liked you. He missed you. Even after seeing your body like this.

“I missed you, too,” you returned his words with emotion thickening your voice, bringing your arms up to wrap around him as well. He sighed at the feeling of your arms on his back, melting further into your neck.

“Wanna move this to the bed?”

He did most of the work shuffling your embrace onto the metal cot, lying down and pulling you so that you were on top of him. You were beginning to think you actually just had a heart condition, because it was beating out of rhythm constantly now, your pulse spiking and temperature rising at this new position.

You loved it.

He was hard, and warm, and strong beneath you. You were able to lay your head on his chest, stare at the exposed skin of his neck as he rested his chin on your head. Your legs slotted between his, so long in comparison to yours, while his arms secured you to his body around your back.

You’ve never felt safer in your entire life.

Still… you couldn’t help but wonder. Were you crushing him? Was he uncomfortable? What if he was and he was just too polite to make you get off? These thoughts caused you to tense up in his arms, suddenly rigid with fright.

“What’s wrong?” He caught onto your worries immediately. His hand smoothed up and down your back, hoping to soothe your tense muscles.

Maker, you were sick of being the insecure one in this relationship. You wanted nothing more to lie on the man you adored’s chest. Anyone else could do it. Why couldn’t you?

Relax. You hissed at yourself. Relax relax relax relax relax—

“Am I making you uncomfortable again?” The pieces clicked in his head, and the brush of his hand against your back stopped. “I’m moving too fast, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I should have asked—“

“No.”

You wiggled your body, wordlessly begging him to resume his motions. You clutched tighter to his shoulders, dug your head deeper into chest, even turned to plant a small, lingering kiss to his collarbone.

“You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re okay.”

“Yeah?” The smile was evident in his voice.

“Yes.”

You could never ask someone to make more of an effort to make you feel comfortable around them than Anakin did. And he did it with no price held over your head, no expectations, no pressures. If your timid nature put him off, he never let you see it. Honestly, you were surprised he was still here. Any other guy, you wholeheartedly believed, would be running in the other direction when they realized you couldn’t even hold eye contact with them for longer than 5 seconds.

But this shyness— it was exclusive to Anakin. You wouldn’t be this way with anyone else, and it frustrated you to no end.

The least you could do was prove that his patience was paying off, and take a leap yourself.

You planted your hands on either side of his body, pushing yourself up so that you were hovering right over his face. Your knees followed, holding your weight as you sat yourself onto his lap.

Scandalous, for the amount of clothes you were wearing.

A surge of confidence ran through you at the surprise that crossed his features. His eyes were wide, confused, as you took his face in your hands, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

This was your domain. You had always been the mynx of the group, luring men in and then leaving them cold. You loved the power it gave you, the ability to promise everything and then take it all away. It left them yearning for you, begging for you. And you loved it.

Sabè and Ahsoka were entertained to no end, watching you string along guys all night just to leave them hanging by the end. It was all a game to you, the flirting and teasing and wooing. You loved to feel needed, to feel wanted, but you never actually planned to do anything more with them.

So when the night ended, and you wanted to go home, you would break the game off and leave them feeling cold, and angry, and cheated. That’s when you’d get cussed out by egotistical whiny men, demeaned and degraded until their little hearts felt satisfied. To be fair, you never promised that anything would happen. It was simple flirting. It was completely on them that they expected things to go any further than that.

That’s why when Anakin came around, you felt like you had been run over by a speeder. He was the only one capable of making you feel like a bug next to him. Every moment he had you tripping and stumbling, your heart stuttering out of time, your cheeks burning with bashfulness, you hated yourself. How could you let one man have that kind of effect on you? It was pathetic.

But now, you were determined to get a little part of your old self back. You wanted to feel in control again, to have that power. He was just a man, after all, and most men were the same. You just needed to dangle, and they’d be all over you.

You continued to smooth his bangs away with the tip of your finger, ignoring the adorable look of confusion he had on his face. Actually, he seemed to really be enjoying himself despite not understanding where this was coming from, so much that his eyes were closing and he was thinking about maybe taking a little nap.

With his eyes closed, it was easier to lean your face in further. Your eyes zeroed in on those perfect pink lips, so full and inviting and soft, even after weeks of brutal combat. You wondered how they would feel on your own, how he would respond to you kissing him. You could imagine the way he might sigh and cup your face, pulling you closer and kissing you deeper. Sharp pangs of longing twisted your stomach into knots.

Anakin could feel your soft breath on his lips. His heart thrummed in his chest, fingers tightening on your waist. Were you going to—?

He was ready for it, no matter what it was.

Just as he was sure you were going to press your lips against his, you pulled away, planting a teasing kiss to his cheek instead. With no explanation, you fit your head back onto his shoulder, lying down against his body again.

What was that all about?

He opened his eyes, glancing down to see you resting with your head buried in your neck. You were like a kitten, breathing quickly and softly, a small smile curling your lips.

He dismissed the thoughts to analyze for another time. Right now, his body ached and his head throbbed. Your figure was soft and warm against his, and your calming presence was making his eyelids grow heavy. He decided to take your lead, and followed you off to sleep.

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[mecomptane]

Blew up my old laptop so I’m trying to recover things from it. (Okay, a slight exaggeration. Maybe.) Apparently I decided to write Star Wars fic at some point? It’s here for posterity, definitely no beta, can’t guarantee the quality. So, the usual. (Pretty sure this was also a 3am sort of thing.)

-

Yoda has been Grand Master of the Jedi Order for going on five centuries, alive for nearly nine, and still, sometimes, feels like he's barely one.

It's few and far between, admittedly--history doesn't exactly repeat, no, but the motivations of sapient beings don't particularly change, and once you understand why people make the choices they do, then you can generally guess what any person or group might do in response. It's not flawless and has failed him before, but between lived experience, his strength in the Force, and the Republic having little changed, overall, he's usually right. Or at least, unsurprised.

The Councilors call him unflappable, the Masters and Knights steadfast, and the Padawans and Initiates whisper that he is Ancient and Omniscient.

Yoda, mostly, calls himself tired.

This is a song and dance he knows well, has all but memorized the steps to. Padawans become Knights become Masters and find an Initiate to teach and mentor and raise, the closest they will ever be to children of blood being children of their hearts. Years--in some cases, a decade or more--will weave the two into a knot of compassion and knowledge and reliance (but never attachment), and with the Trials the Master shears their Padawan's braid and the Padawan shears the rope that had once bound them so tightly, and the two walk away, together but inherently separate, to live their lives as sole individuals connected only by the gossamer web and weave of the Force, as all living things do.

Countless have come and gone, all with slightly different steps or rhythms. Not all have been successful. Jedi walk in the light and dream of the sun, but shadowy corners and secrets in darkness are tempting, too intriguing to pass up the chance to investigate. Rare are those who give in; rarer still are those who find their way back. But it does happen, as much as they might wish it otherwise.

Yoda has seen all of them in nearly a millennia, can trace the pattern and knows the steps of that dance, too. Not that of true Sith, no, but the path to becoming a Darksider is identical to that of a Jedi with only a few steps reversed, repeated, skipped over. Once the first misstep occurs, it takes barely any thought to see where and how the dance might change. Will they weave back and forth, between light and darkness? Will they flit into the shadows briefly and find it not to their taste, thereafter choosing only the path strung with the lanterns of faith? Will they stumble into the shadows once, twice, again and again, until the light itself hurts their eyes and they cannot see save anywhere but darkness?

One step, two, a few more--that's all it takes, now, for Yoda to know. He's been wrong, true, but those times were more that he'd given into hope. Hope that they'd find their way into the light, that their dance would one day realign with that of the rest of the Jedi.

So as Yoda sits among the Council, the dimming light of Coruscant's pale setting sun struggling in through the windows, he is thrown. Surprised. Confused.

"I will take him as my Padawan," Qui-Gon Jinn says, hands resting reassuringly on the shoulders of a supernova given form. So bright, so powerful, spilling everywhere with little control, care, or concern. Yoda can barely look.

Behind the duo stands a white dwarf of the Force, the light and warmth turned inward and controlled, peaceful but puissant and exactly like a Jedi should be, but.

But.

"Obi-Wan? He is ready for his Trials."

"Decide that, the Council shall."

In a room of so much light, where the brightest and most powerful Jedi in the galaxy sit in state, there is an undercurrent of shadows. A slight dimming in the corners, a hint of something obscuring the warmth and nurturing rays.

Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anakin Skywalker.

Yoda looks between them and the Council, and wonders.

-

When he was younger, Yoda delighted in his Padawan learners. That he lived so much longer than any other species or race was a detriment to others, but it allowed him to have generations of Padawans and their Padawans, Grandpadawans and Greatgrandpadawans. Each of his students had siblings, younger or older; each had nieces and nephews; all had someone to fall back on, to speak with, to rely on. To be family with.

Attachment was not the Jedi way, but compassion and selfless love was. All of his students--and their students, so on and so forth--understood that, embraced that.

Eventually he became the Grand Master and became so busy with duties he could not devote the time to another Padawan, to his Lineage as he once did. They understood, relied more on each other, and while some came to him with questions or concerns it was a rarity. And then--somewhere along the lines--it stopped happening altogether. A Lineage was called after the oldest surviving member, but when there were gaps of three, four, ten generations... did one really still count as part of that Lineage? But that was fine, as it should be; the Force is Life and Life is forever changing, growing, renewing. Yoda had learnt at the side of a Master long gone but fondly remembered, now part of the Force; his students, too, memories and trinkets, memorabilia tucked carefully away in a chest in his room, never opened but a reminder nonetheless.

The desire to teach Dooku had been unexpected, unanticipated, almost unappreciated. It had been years since he last had a Padawan learner of his own... but why not? He'd long since turned over immediate day-to-day responsibilities to an aide, now the Master of the Order, and aside from popping in to teach classes or spend time in the creche, he had ample time for a personal student again.

Of course, the way that had turned out... but Dooku's own Padawan, Qui-Gon, had been bright and sensitive to the ways and wills of the Force, and always willing to help another Padawan, always willing to lend an ear or support. Maybe Dooku hadn't turned out as Yoda had hoped, but surely Qui-Gon would be better.

And he was, with Feemor. Maybe not the most in-touch Master, preferring books or research or his plants and animals and following the eddies of the Force invisible to most others, but he cared. He wanted Feemor to succeed, to thrive, as did Yoda. And Feemor did, passing his Trials with little difficulty and much grace; a Jedi Knight to be, surely, proud of.

Xanatos, however....

He'd deserved to be repudiated, true. Yoda had even cautioned Qui-Gon about his second Padawan, having seen the steps and the missteps and the constant swaying between light and dark. A Shadow, he'd suggested. Cautioned. Xanatos could not walk in the light, not like Feemor, but enough light he had in him to walk in both, to be a Shadow of their Order. Qui-Gon hadn't listened, still too proud, too arrogant, after Feemor.

In the end, Xanatos became a Darksider. Qui-Gon, as custom and duty and common sense demanded, repudiated him. But not just him, no, for if he'd gone so wrong with Xanatos, surely Feemor, too, was secretly not what he appeared to be? And so Feemor had suffered for his younger brother's choices, for Qui-Gon's pride and lack of attention to detail, for his desperation to not stain or blemish the Lineage of the Grand Master.

Two students, one Jedi Knight, one Darksider. Two repudiations, one earned, one not.

Qui-Gon had sworn off all further students, had nearly been convinced to take another, had rejected them in the end. The Force had brought them back together, and Qui-Gon could not ignore such a sign, but--

Obi-Wan is quiet in the Force. As a child he'd been as a river, calmly flowing one minute and the tempestuousness of white water the next, but always moving, always steady. As a babe... Yoda remembers the young human, presumed Stewjoni, being brought into the Hall of Healing for the first time, so young and already so part of the Force it had nearly wrapped around him. Not a vergence, not power, but a pin in an ever-changing tapestry, a marble dropped into the center of a taught sheet, a boulder in the middle of the river he'd become part of.

Chaos in the midst of calm, or the calm waters of the eye of a storm?

Obi-Wan learnt the steps of those around him, learnt to dance between light and darkness with Quinlan Vos and somewhere along the lines chose to remain in the light. But these were not his steps, Yoda could see. They were the steps of the Masters, the Knights, the Padawans, even other Initiates; they were what should be, what Kenobi himself clearly wanted to do, to be, but were copied from others, a reflection of truth and not what actually was.

The only times Yoda could remember Obi-Wan stepping out on his own, trying to make his own dance--Melida/Daan. Mandalore. Qui-Gon had either left him alone or with minimal guidance, and without the framework of the Order to guide him, Obi-Wan had fallen back on what he believed to be right, to be the will of the Force. Protect the Young. Protect the Duchess. Stop a war. (Even if it meant fighting.)

Obi-Wan wouldn't be happy strictly as a Peacekeeper, no. He had the knack for it, a skill with words and negotiations that most Masters could only wish for, but the boy's heart--his desire--was to defend and protect that which was Good.

And now, here. Naboo.

Qui-Gon's body lays in repose in the next room, waiting for the sunset and the pyre. Obi-Wan kneels before him, a Knight in a Padawan's garb, and while he never fails to make eye contact, there's a careful guard to it.

Peacekeepers do not kill, after all. Jedi are Peacekeepers; ergo, for all that he's tried to emulate them, Obi-Wan Kenobi is not a Peacekeeper. Not a Jedi.

He's a protector, and Yoda can see him realizing this even as he kneels and Yoda paces, otherwise in perfect silence.

Protectors need things to protect, things to cherish, attachments. How do you value something enough to protect it while maintaining a necessary distance? Even the Sentinels, guards as they are, keep their distance from their charges, no matter how many Younglings jump around and climb them and offer them sweets and pies.

"...even if I must leave the Order, I will train the boy."

And there is both the problem and the solution. Qui-Gon did a disservice to his student, leaving him to find his way alone. Even now, in death, Qui-Gon cannot complete the ritual to break their bond, to cut their ties so Obi-Wan may move forward alone. Yet it's clear that between the Council chamber and the reactor, the bond between them had already begun to unravel. Now what ritual there might be--it wouldn't have mattered, anyway. A sham, a farce, to be done with, if it would even happen at all.

Not that they didn't care about each other--no, he'd seen enough of them together to know that they did, but it was the care between two Knights or two Masters, not teacher-and-student, not father-and-son. Removed, careful, expecting and understanding that each could exist without the other ever in their lives again, but grateful for this brief opportunity to spend time beside each other.

So maybe Qui-Gon was right, in the end: maybe Obi-Wan had been ready for his Trials, having been acting the part of Knight already. No Trials now, Darth Maul's death is more than enough to count, and no ritual Knighting. Just the burning of a body... and the decision of a Knight to train a boy he barely knows.

A boy for the first time away from family and friends and familiarity, a boy... much like Obi-Wan once was, if only Yoda had paid more attention. A boy that, like Obi-Wan, will need to find his own path through life, his own steps through light and dark that might--will--be different from any Yoda has seen before.

A boy that, for right now, needs less guidance and more care. More compassion. More... protection.

It goes against the teachings of the Jedi, to encourage attachments. But Yoda looks at Obi-Wan, feels out for the boy on the other side of the door keeping vigil over his once would-be Master's body, and knows the will of the Force, too.

"Train the boy, you shall," he decrees, and blames the rest of the Council. "A Knight, you are."

Obi-Wan bows his head, like he'd expected nothing less, like he's grateful they're in accord and he won't have to fight for it.

And like he'd never expected a Knighting, a ritual, a ceremony.

Yoda watches him quietly enter the next room, kneel down beside Anakin Skywalker and join the silent vigil. Sees Anakin lean into him, just slightly. Sees Obi-Wan pause, then wrap one arm loosely around small shoulders.

No, he decides, turning his back on what's left of his Lineage. They'll make new dances, a new path, and he won't recognize a single step of it.

And he feels the slightest hint of relief.

[atrophiedcompassion]

having watched TROS for the second (and final) time in the cinema, here’s my full spoiler abundant review, also with comments on the nonalogy as a whole.

the movie works a lot better aka is more enjoyable the second time. we know what’s happening and i could relax and enjoy even the dumb moments and allow myself to feel, to be washed into the music and just feel my good feelings towards the finale.

the plot is still dumb as rocks, with the new old villain, resurrected. who not only is back but is giving our heroes a chance to find him before all shit breaks loose. why is the emperor so fucking arrogant?? why did TROS/JJ keep arguably the worst plot from TLL namely the race against a certain but exact time to do something to save the day?

the rey as palpatine still makes no sense. why did the jedi (in particular obi wan) call to her when she has the first force vision back on takodana if rey’s a palp?? JJ truly pisses on his very own movie isn’t he? and the emperor himself, he wants rey dead, twice he tells this verbatim to KR and then comments the rey killing plot was foiled to commander pryde...but then he actually welcomes her with open arms? or did he foresee his new death by rey should she reach exogol still alive? why should this death stick? ugghghgh.

the movie moves at record pace, no time to grieve, no time to catch your breath. the falcon/poe does impossible feats. the trio is united only to trail rey, finn in particular acting like a puppy. the only scene with finn that had any weight and developed his character was the scene with jannah when they’re fixing the falcon. BUT even then...i thought it was fine for the Force to guide finn out of his servitude. but maybe let the other former stormtroopers have some fuxking free will. not the force guiding them. there were so many moments when finn could’ve inspired former fellow stormtroopers to put down their weapons, but no. the spy could’ve been a stormtrooper, not the ridiculous hux doing things out of spite...

the worst scene in the movie? rey going on a fucking stroll on pasaana to meet kylo ren’s ship...and before that, the knights of ren literally posturing on a rock. i laughed out loud in the cinema it was so utterly ridiculous.

it’s all fucking plains, the fucking audience could see rey advancing through ochi’s ship screens. but somehow chewbacca gets captured and there’s a second transporter. the whole scene plays just so we can set up rey’s sith lightning abilities..?? fucking hell.

c3po’s sacrifice works for me. it’s the first moment of the rewatch where i got truly emotional and shed actual tears. and it’s not really cheapened by his memory being restored, since Finn actually mentions r2 might have a backup which 3po dismisses in his usual fashion. so 3po actually believed he was going to be fully erased. and that’s what matters. i found the 3po humour almost on par with the OT, although sometimes poe’s wayyy too aggressive with him. (i mean, poe loves droids, or at least his droid bb8, but is awfully dismissive of both 3po and D-O, just to fill in the han role i guess? it’s overdone)

the fight on the destroyer/kimiji is ok, again rey with the aggressive stance and the reveal is....nothing. rey has NO fucking reaction. she like scrunches her nose a little. she was just told the JJ equivalent to luke finding out vader’s his dad and rey’s just like. oh okay. bummer.

she should’ve fucking jumped like luke did. and maybe be retrieved on the falcon somehow. she should’ve expressed some pain. but no. rey’s just as calm as before. maybe even calmer, now that she knows the whole truth.

the death star sequence. dumb as hell to imagine the dagger has coordinates to the fucking wreckage of DS2??!??! who made it and when??!?!??! but let’s not overthink this. you get force powered rey making the ride with the skimmer and finding herself attacked by dark!rey..and then kylo come by and apparently knows this? because he tells her that now she’s tainted and can’t go back to leia either??!

WHAT THE FUCKKKK does JJ not know how the fucking force works??? i mean was it a fucking inside joke when han says that’s not how the force works in TFA??? uughghghgh. i know TROS is trying its best to almost completely retcon TLJ, but the way the Force was described there, like a balance, decay from where new life spawns, THAT WAS A GOOD THING FFS!!!!

no, JJ thinks that jedi are all pure beings and sith are dark brooding monsters and if a jedi or equivalent has even the faintest connection to the dark side, they’re fucking done!!!!!! (when the FUCKING OT SAYS THE FUCKING OPPOSITE, even a shred of goodness can help you get back to the light)

and if that was SUPPOSED to be KR’s way of getting rey to join him on his fieldtrip to exogol...my god he’s fucking dumb as hell. rey’s resisted his offer every fucking time (altho during the force call on pasaana he tells her he will turn her and she says we’ll see. she didn’t say no lmao), why would she fucking say yeah sure now? just because she had a fucking vision of dark herself??!?!?

still, dark!rey is fucking hot and i will probably cosplay her sometimes soon.

then comes the kylo - rey fight on the death star wreckage, where she attacks him, she’s aggressive, and is bested. and he’s about to kill her (even though he told her he has other plans, LOL) and then leia calls. or her call to her son finally reaches him (no more voicemail) and he falters, drops the saber and is impaled by rey.......who also senses leia’s passing.

and we have ben again and the scene with han solo plays and it’s pretty fucking emotional. but i wish he had said father and not dad. dad feels unearned. father would’ve worked best, especially for such a serious, stoic char like ben, dad is far too playful. i would’ve wanted a moment more of ben mourning his mother too, but the movie’s gotta be done in 30 mins so we have no time for allowing emotional moments to sink in. note: finn & poe are in such a rush to get to leia they don’t even have time to wait a sec to be told properly that she’s fucking dead. fuck you movie.

the scenes with luke are good. of course, luke backtracks all of his development in TLJ (because fuck you that’s why) and apparently everyone knew she was a palpatine but they still trained her because fuck logic? this is just like the PT where they end up training anakin because they made a promise to a dead guy. lmao. and how convenient is that there’s another lightsaber, otherwise how would rey make an x at the end to (presumably) end palpatine?? hmmm. i said the jedi leia scene/flashback worked for me the first time i saw it, but in hindsight, the scene and motivation really takes a steaming dump on leia’s character, a mother afraid of her son and unwilling to help him. fuck you JJ. we never needed leia wielding a lightsaber. we only wanted leia using the force in some way that felt organic to her character. (sidestep: up until attack of the clones? when yoda first uses a lightsaber, i assumed he was enlightened and didn’t need actual weapons to wield the force. well, i hoped leia could be like that enlightened master yoda. but like all bad things in the SW universe, she ended up being as awful as puppet yoda with a toothpick lightsaber, cause how would we know she’s a jedi otherwise????)

so. because she refused kylo, and ended up alone on exogol and with the resistance trapped there, she’s actually considering palpatine’s offer??! and realises she has maybe another option when she senses ben’s there too??! then why the fuck didn’t they go together??!?! oh wait. i forgot she wanted to exile herself on ach-to LMAO.

and still. the whole palpatine plot train-wreck could’ve still worked had they actually used the pretty cool concept of Force Dyad for something good. i mean, KR tells this to rey on the destroyer. but apparently palp can’t do the math and is surprised when he takes a sip of their life essences??! like what the actual fuck, why isn’t palpatine aware of this?? if he (+plagueis) made vader and then he conceived his son. and then vader had leia and leia had ben and palp’s son had rey........why is KR able to put this together and not the FREAKING MASTER PUPPETEER of the whole fucking galaxy??!?!

anyway. back to the force dyad. we have awsome ben solo and rey reunited. ready to fight palps. but no. he freezes them and sucks the life force out of them. maybe the power of the force dyad of light users could be harmful to a sith?!??! maybe the power of a force dyad would help ben & rey resist palp?! maybe the power of a force dyad could be used to defeat palp?

but no. we get ben solo thrown into a pit so that palp and rey could reenact whitney houston’s hit

or, even worse, the year’s most anticipated battle of one liners: endgame. yeah, it was cool to hear all the jedi clamouring for rey, but this could’ve still worked as the jedi finally supporting ben skywalker organa solo for fucking once in the guy’s lifetime.

but no. JJ said fuck ben solo. he’s only good to give the life back to rey, then he can fuck off. i am not a reylo and i am not too bothered by ben’s death, as much as i am by his misuse. i mean, in such movies, we never really have to deal with reformed bad guys making amends. vader died, and so in a way, ben dying too and not having to be courtmartialled is actually convenient.

i have read some analysis where ben & rey being happy together is the undoing of anakin’s sad demise and brings peace to the skywalker line rather than pain and despair and that’s a valid premise, but realistically, ben’s death makes sense. they’d never be happy together in a hut somewhere, because ben still has to pay for a lot of damage. BUT his death is nothing but the crippling of the skywalker line, after a palp had defeated the palps. his death has little meaning in the story. them being a force dyad has little meaning, apart from powering palps back to his rots appearance. lmao

and finally, the death of ben is never mourned, never acknowledged. no-one is even told on screen about his return to the light (maybe maz felt it, when leia’s body vanished...) and his deeds. that kinda sucks. because luke took a moment to have a ceremony for vader, the force ghosts came through. here...we get nothing.

and then rey buries the anakin saber and leia’s saber on tatooine in sand no less (we need a sketch of anakin loudly complaining to rey about this)... and instead of finally accepting herself as being sufficient, she tacks on the legacy name. well done JJ.

(that was me when the credits rolled).

now, i love the OT more than life itself and the films give us meta to fill libraries. they are not perfect movies, but they are good, they tell a wonderful story with amazing characters and i will never stop loving them.

then the PT is made of really bad movies that now, in the light of TROS, surprisingly still come together as a trilogy far better than the ST lmao.

i still believe that the PT undermines and ruins Vader’s redemption in ROTS, because now you know exactly what he did (reminder: killed 30 children) and it’s hard to swallow. in the end, he dies to save his son and takes down the big bad so we can accept that he gains redemption in luke’s eyes alone and not necessarily in the audience’s. but ben solo didn’t even get that. he got thrown into a pit and crawled out only to give rey life lol.

anyway, TFA was okay at first, but i always had a huge gripe, aka the misuse of Leia and the complete silence on her being a Force user. like don’t even need ligthsaber fights from her, just gimme something explicit of her using the Force. she could’ve at the very fucking least sensed KR when he swoops in and abducts Rey on Takodana. but no. JJ fridged Leia from the get go, because he had no clue what to do with her. and then he fucked her character completely with what he believed was the flashback the fans wanted....UFHGHGHGH

JJ also and truly fridged Luke, because he had no idea what to do with Luke and the whole Force legacy either. he wanted to write a fun Han Solo adventure and by gods he did.

so, Luke. the guy vanishes the opening crawl tells us. he wasn’t abducted, so he must’ve exiled himself. people hating TLJ’s so called character assassination when it comes to Luke should point fingers at the real culprit, JJ. how could Luke do such a thing and run away (like JJ wrote him do) if he hadn’t done something significantly wrong?? it had to be FUCKING HORRIBLE. and so it is. because what Luke did was horrible and it set up for the fall to the dark side of poor, conflicted, manipulated and unloved Ben Solo. but had it not been THIS awful, then Luke’s self imposed exile, shame and guilt wouldn’t have made any fucking sense. so, TLJ haters, think again WHO was the person who wrote Luke running away for 10 years and allowing all that shit to happen?? it wasn’t Rian Johnson, that’s for sure. he merely justified the absence in a way that made sense plot-wise and actually character-wise too.

on repeated viewing, TFA isn’t that good, it’s a rehash of ANH and the stakes are never as good as the original movies. we all kinda know the heroes will save the day

TLJ, i liked, but the canto bight plot really falls flat. this is where RJ did some char assassinations: Poe. Poe is the cocky pilot who singlehandedly destroys the Resistance’s arsenal LMAO. and next scene he turns into sexist macho asshole trope itself, with his immediate and unfounded disdain of Holdo and her plans to keep our heroes safe. so he concocts a harebrained plan that doesn’t work. maybe it was intended as a refreshing look over this trope of barely a plan of the heroes always coming to fruition at the very last second, but the way it’s presented, it somehow really undermines all the characters involved, including newcomer Rose. at the start a breath of fresh air in the age of mindless heroics, the voice of reason,  soon enough she too is pulled apart and becomes a sudden love interest...?? she is then reduced to a side’s side char in TROS, but she has space buns, so that’s cool right? that’s what SW is all about, women in space buns. fuck!

and yet, TLJ handled Luke, Leia, KR and Rey wonderfully and laid down some great ideas, Rey having no lineage, the Force Bond between her and KR, the catalyst for KR’s fall to the dark side, the little good in him, as sensed by both Leia and Rey...and set up a finale where, i believed and hoped, KR would be the main villain.

with the trailer spelling the probable return of palpatine, i kinda lost faith in TROS before it even hit the theaters. in fact, my faith in the movie was shot the moment JJ was brought on board.

we had a new villain, another race against time to save the day, and our heroes tell us again and again that it’s fine to share the burden, that they are not alone, that there are more good guys than bad - and when the ARMY OF PEOPLE came to exogol, it’s a wonderful scene. it works for me and it did both times. i know it’s awful that no-one came to leia’s call on crait, but here lando picks up (when lando says hello there, it’s not only panties that drop) half the galaxy, but somehow it still made me well up.

but, despite this very explicit message, our heroine fights alone. she faces palps alone and almost makes a bad decision, is alone in her final battle, is alone at the end. how truly horrible. instead of having ben and rey defeat palps together, rey has to do it alone, out of faux-feminism. it’s sickening. it’s stupid. and that’s not star wars and the star wars message. luke was not alone at the end, he was with friends, with family.

but she’s from a bad bloodline and she should die childless. ughhh. totally not hopeful, totally not satisfying message to have for the finale of the skywalker saga.

[therapardalis]

thelightsabcr​:

-

Obi-Wan glanced at her as she spoke the warning. It somehow didn’t surprise him, though he didn’t think it as much of a problem anyway. “We can handle some glares.” He said, giving her a wink before pushing open the door. He held it for her, so she could enter as well, before he gave a glance around. It was not what he had expected, though that was probably because of what had happened there - the reason he was present. But still, he stood there for a moment, taking in the sights and smells, as well as just sensing. If there still was any danger, he wished to be aware of it, but as of now all he could sense was the confusion, the fear and the uncertainty of what would happen now.

Then, he stepped forward. Firstly, he had to get the report from the droid, so that was what he approached - he didn’t mind Thera doing her own thing, as he sort of already figured she’d do. He believed it would, perhaps be easier for her to gain information that he otherwise could not gather, simply because he was a Jedi and not everyone approved of them either. 

At least the droid would speak to him without issues. He listened to the droid that had been waiting for him and despite his own curiosity, he managed to not glance at any of the workers of the place through the entire explanation. 

In the end though, Obi-Wan couldn’t help himself and gave a glance over at his newly gained assistant, no, friend, mostly out of curiosity of how she was doing. Had she gotten the bad reception that was expected? He hadn’t sensed any anger, but then again, he was slightly distracted by the information he’d gained. Obi-Wan then left the droid and walked over to Thera with firm, determined steps. 

“The body is still here. Can you come with me and see if you recognize our victim?” He didn’t say it, but he thought that since she was more familiar with everything down here, she might’ve seen the person before. In a way he hoped not, but.. You never know.

There were, indeed, stares. Three or four of the Twi’lek women were huddled together in the foyer, towelling or satin robes thrown on over their ‘work’ clothes; possibly not under direct suspicion, but also not allowed to leave for the time being. Their eyes caught Kenobi as he arrived and followed him as he crossed the room, though as Thera trailed in his wake she wasn’t sure if they were impressed by his presence or bemused by his youth.

The Rutian Madam behind the gaudy gilt-covered reception desk might have been the latter, but she skipped more quickly from looking at him to looking at her - it was part of the job to take note of everyone who came in, after all - and expressions of surprise, caution and maybe a hint of relief chased over her face. Thera threw a quick glance after Obi-Wan before changing direction toward the desk. 

Hi,” Her voice was kept low, “Oowara, isn’t it?” She knew the woman by sight even if not personally, and took a decent guess the same applied in reverse. “Who copped it?”

“A client,” Oowara whispered back, leaning across to urgently add. “My girls didn’t do anything - !”

Thera exhaled, herself relieved that the victim hadn’t been one of the workers, and gave a reassuring nod before hearing the same story as the police droid would tell; the client had been serviced, gone to shower, and been found a short time later on the floor. Well ... at least he’d died feeling relaxed? She puffed a breath, looking up as Obi-Wan approached.

“Yeah ...” She wasn’t going to ask Oowara to break client confidence by asking for a name, and gave another quick nod before turning away. “I might. Let’s check it out.”

[inkognito97]

“i’m a med student (Satine) has a crush on the hot guy (obiwan) who works at the coffee shop who always gives me free drinks when i’m stressed and calls me princess even though i pretend i think it’s annoying but i’m extremely concerned about him because he always smells like smoke so i always give him lectures about how terrible cigarettes are for you and i may have made a powerpoint which is probably excessive but lung health is extremely important and oops it turns out he’s part-dragon

“Satine,you are staring again,” the owner of the voice laughed.Satine’s face flushed in a crimson red, she was embarrassed to have been caughtstaring at the cute barista, who was currently serving a table near theentrance door. Satine preferred a seat in the back of the café, it allowed herto watch the people while having some space and not being observed in return.“Not so loud,” the blonde hissed back at her sister. Bo-Katan just laughed moreat that.“Why don’t you go and ask him for a date?” she asked.Satine’s cheeks colored even more. “Don’t be ridiculous,” her gaze saddened, “aguy like him would NEVER agree to go out with me.”The other woman scoffed, “Not if you are acting like a beaten puppy. Satine,the guy is head over heels for you or why do you think he gives you freedrinks?”“I’m sure he does that with a lot of girls, who look as if they are desperateand would do anything to get… you know.”“Laid? Please, I can tell just by looking at your cutie that he is not THATkind of guy.” She shook her head and made a move to stand up. “As much as Ilove catching up to you, I have to get back to work, break is almost over.Besides, your cutie is coming.”“Bo-Katan!” she said scandalized, but the younger female was already wavinggoodbye and taking her leave.“Hello there,” an accented voice spoke up and the blonde did not need to guesslong, to whom it belonged. “Is everything to your liking, princess? Or might Ibring you another coffee, for free of course.”Satine rolled her eyes and snapped, “Stop calling me princess.” If she washonest with herself, then she DID like to be called princess. It made her feelspecial and adored. She would never admit that to him though. Obi-Wan, that was his name, collected the empty cups and Bo-Katan’s empty plates.He had THAT smile on his handsome young features, partly amused and partlycheeky. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, completely ignoring what she hadsaid. The blonde wondered if she was truly this transparent of if the ginger hairedmale with his cute freckles called every girl ‘princess’. Somehow she doubtedthat, she had never seen him giving free drinks to any other customer, excepthis little brother that is.When Obi-Wan returned and sat the coffee in front of her – she liked it with alittle bit of sugar in it – an all too familiar smell found its way into hernose. She grimaced in disgust.“Thanks… You should quit smoking you know,” Satine couldn’t help but say. Itwas not the first time she had told Obi-Wan and something told her that it wouldn’tbe the last time either. Still she couldn’t help herself.An unreadable expression appeared on his features. “So you keep on saying,” hesounded dismissive and was about to turn away.“Wait, I’ve made a PowerPoint presentation to show you,” why had she said that?The barista gave her a strange look and the blonde found herself blushingfuriously. “Only if you have the time of course, I mean, I don’t want to getyou into trouble with your boss.” Oh god, she was rambling and desperatelywanted to hit herself.A rich chuckle could be heard and she dared to look at the blue-green eyedmale. A gentle smile played on his lips. “Don’t worry princess, I am my ownboss,” he winked.“Wait, you mean…?”Obi-Wan nodded, “I am the café’s owner… and as much as I like spending time inyour company, it is very busy today and I don’t want to keep you from studying.This is most likely more important than me.” He motioned to the documentsSatine had spread over the wooden table.“Somebody’s health is always important,” as a med student, she deemed it partof her responsibility and duty to enlighten him.His smile was indulgent. “Perhaps when the place is less crowded,” heeventually said.“Alright,” she returned his radiant smile, how could she not? Also, it soundedlike a nice promise.With that the young barista turned away with a wave and a short, “Till laterprincess,” he went to another table to take the customer’s orders.

Satine wastiredly rubbing at her eyes while shutting down her laptop. Even the coffeecould only make her work so long, before exhaustion claimed her.

“Princess?”she jumped in surprise at Obi-Wan’s voice and with her heart beating wildly,did she look up at the apologetic face. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but she did notbelieve him, “but we are closing now.”

“Closing?”she asked and looked around. She was truly the only customer left and the otherworkers were putting the chairs on the table and cleaning the dishes andsurfaces. Her eyes turned to the big windows and she groaned when she saw, howdark it already was.

“Iseverything alright?” the accented and worried voice of the barista brought herefocus back to the here and now.

“Yes, I…”she sighed. In truth, nothing was alright. The way to her home was relativelylong and there were a few dark places on her route. She was not overly fond ofgoing all on her own, perhaps she was even scared. She wondered if she shouldcall a taxi, but a quick glance at the clock told her that it would be of nouse. It was rush hour, a lot of people wanted to get home without beingattacked or robbed on the street and a lot of people wanted to party at such anhour. She would most likely not get one for the next hour or two.

“Troublegetting home?” Obi-Wan asked, apparently she WAS quite transparent. “Do youwant me to accompany you?”

Undernormal circumstances, Satine would have refused, she technically did not knowhim  much, but at least she wouldn’t bealone. “Please?”

He smiledsoftly down at her and somehow it made her stomach flutter. “Alright. Just giveme a few minutes to change clothes and then I’ll be right with you again,princess.”

“Stopcalling me princess,” she called after him, earning her a few amused looks fromObi-Wan’s coworkers, while the ginger haired man just waved it off. She pouted,but quickly turned around to hide her embarrassment and to collect her papers. True to his words, Obi-Wan appeared a little bit later, without apron andwithout his beige and white working uniform. Instead he was clad in tight bluejeans and a unspectacular black t-shirt that clung to his frame. A leatherjacket was carelessly thrown over his shoulder and he offered Satine his hand.

The femaledesperately wished that she had dressed in something warmer than her black-redcheckered dress and the black leggings underneath. The day had been ratherwarm, but the evening was cold, VERY cold in her opinion and Satine had nojacket, she had not planned to stay this long in the café.

The blondestood near the entrance and she looked up at the neon sign of the café. “Vigilance”glowed in bright red letters over the entrance. Obi-Wan was waving goodbye tohis coworkers and reminded them to lock the door later on and then he turned tohis companion. His eyes furrowed and Satine was about to ask what the matterswas, when he moved and put his black leather jacket over her shoulders. Itsmelled a little of smoke too, but it was bearable, so she did not sayanything, not this time.

“What aboutyou?”

“Don’tworry about me, usually I don’t get cold.”

“Thankyou,” she just KNEW that her cheeks were slightly pink and not from the neonlight, so she turned her head away. “Well then princess,” he offered her his arm and Satine, after only a second ofhesitating, took it.

“Don’t callme that,” her reply was only half-hearted and she knew it.

The walkwas silent, but comfortable. Satine found that the staring people and thedarkness did not bother her as much, not with Obi-Wan right next to her. Shediscreetly glanced at him, his face did reveal nothing of what he was thinkingand his blue-green eyes were fixed on the path. He looked even better in thedim moonlight.

Obi-Wanturned his head slightly, his eyes catching hers. Satine quickly looked away,pretending as if she had just looked over to check on him. She didn’t see theamused and knowing smile on his features.

“Wait,”Obi-Wan suddenly said and stopped dead in his tracks.

“What isit?” the smaller female wanted to know, but before her companion could answer,another male voice cut in.

“Now, whodo we have here?” a deep and dark voice asked from the shadows. It sent shiversdown the blonde’s spine, while Obi-Wan seemed completely unaffected. In fact,he took a step forward and put himself between the female and the man in theshadows.

“Those whohide in the shadows are cowards,” Obi-Wan boldly replied, head held high.

“Obi-Wan,”gasped the young med student. Why was he provoking whoever lured there?

An evillaughter could be heard and a moment later, a broad figure stepped into thelight. The man was bald, but the skin that could be seen was covered in red andblack tattoos. Also, it looked like he had horns implanted in his skull, suchimplants were the latest fashion, even though Satine could not understand why.In her opinion, they looked horrendous.

The manclad in black stopped only a few steps in front of the barista. He seemed to bewearing yellow contact lenses. “Aren’t you a sweet couple?”

Obi-Wanhuffed, but did nothing to deny his claim. “What do you want?”

“Isn’t thatobvious?” the stranger asked and he opened his arms, as if he wanted a hug.Satine doubted that this was his true intention however.

“So yourather rob people than work for you money?” an elegant eyebrow was raised.

“This is mywork,” the man grinned and showed his ugly yellow teeth.

Obi-Wanshook his head, “This is not work, it is a pitiful excuse of a life.”

“Obi-Wan,stop!” Satine begged, she was clutching her companion’s arm tightly and she wassure that it had to hurt, but Obi-Wan appeared not to notice.

It wasalready too late. The stranger’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he actually HISSEDat them. “Nobody insults Darth Maul and lives through it.”

The baristagently pried the female’s fingers from his arm and took a step forward. “Leavenow and don’t come back, or you will deeply regret it.”

“And whatwill you do?” he was laughing and had pulled out a two bladed pocket knife, butObi-Wan would have none of it.

In shockdid the blonde female watch, how her companion took another step forward, hestraightened his spine and something that looked like fog, but was lighter,surrounded the man. Satine had to shield her eyes when the fog began to glowand she was not the only one. When the light dissipated along with the fog,Satine and Maul gasped in a mixture of shock and fear. Where Obi-Wan had beenstanding, was now a majestic dragon with turquoise scales, large blue-yellowfins on its head and tail and turquoise feathered wings. Its eyes were yellowtoo, but they were friendlier than that of Maul and when the dragon – as unbelievableas that sounded – turned slightly around to look at Satine, the female couldsee that its belly also was yellow.

The outlawwas openly gaping at the tall – though tall was relative, the dragon wasn’t astall as a house – being. His gaze wandered to his double bladed knife and back.The dragon – no, Obi-Wan, Satine reminded herself – exhaled deeply and smokeescaped his nostrils. At least the blonde now knew why the barista alwayssmelled like he had smoked a cigarette, she felt even more stupid for havingtold him time to quit over and over again.

Theturquoise dragon inhaled deeply and leaned forward to breathe out real fire, whichwent over the man’s head, but just barely. Also, the flames had been blueinstead of red and orange and Satine could only imagine how hot they must be.Maul was trembling by now and the knife escaped his shaking hands. Withoutsaying another word, he turned and fled the scene, leaving Obi-Wan and Satinebehind.

The dragongrowled low in his throat and took a few steps forward, as if to follow thefleeing male. But he stopped and lowered his head, before the light surrounded himonce more. In a matter of seconds, the proud and breath-taking dragon wasreplaced by the skinny ginger haired human male. He picked up the blade that restedbefore him and threw it into the nearby river, where it was most likely lost forever.

Satine hadnot said a word up until now, but neither had she made any move to run like thebandit had. Instead she found herself gazing into nervous and fearfulblue-green eyes.

“I know,”the ginger haired male said and he sounded rueful and disappointed, as if his wholeworld had shattered. Satine guessed that it had, at least from his perspective.

Shechuckled, “I think every girl dreamt of a knight in shining armor to come toher rescue,” she edged closer to the broken looking man, “but I think having adragon, makes a knight kind of superfluous.” She took his hand and noted indelight that it was warm.

A surprisedexpression appeared on Obi-Wan’s features, which was only slowly replaced by arueful smile. “You don’t think I am a monster?”

“You savedme,” she stated and it was true. Had she gone alone, who would have known whatthat man would have done to her and had Obi-Wan been just his normal human self…she doubted he could really have done something against an armed robber.

“It was mypleasure, as much as my duty… princess,” the last part was said in a questioningtone, as if he was trying to find out, if the nickname was still appreciated. Andit was, more than ever, because now, it made sense.

She tookanother step forward, closer into his personal space and she was delighted tofeel the comfortable and soothing warmth that radiated from him. “Just onequestion… how?”

“I inheritedthat from my father, you have seen him. He is the tall man with the long hairand the beard, who often comes to visit.”

The blondenodded and allowed the ginger haired barista to lay an arm on her shoulder andtherefore pull her a little closer against him. “The one with the deep blueeyes?” she asked and Obi-Wan nodded, “He seems… intimidating.”

The gingerhaired barista actually chuckled at that and slowly started walking again,never breaking the contact to the female. Satine found that she didn’t mind,not even the smell of smoke. Now that she knew the real reason for it…

“He does,doesn’t he? Don’t tell him that though, it would leave him devastated for days…My father is… a very emotional man, a very kind one.”

“I canimagine… with a son like you.”

Obi-Wanhuffed, “You should meet my brothers then, though you COULD argue that they inheriteda lot from my mother.”

Satinehummed and unconsciously grabbed the hand on her shoulder, intertwining theirfingers. “Is your mother a dragon too?” she couldn’t help but ask.

Obi-Wan wassurprised at how well ‘his’ princess was accepting him. “No,” he chuckled, “Dadtold me that she was always freaking out, she expected us – that means me andmy brothers – to be born as reptiles. Well, she was disappointed.”Satine couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea. Though she began to wonder, whenthere are dragons hidden in their society, what else lurked hidden in theshadows?

[inquisitorhotpants]

So since about 2005, I’ve been involved in this ongoing-with-occasional-long-hiatuses RP with a friend of mine that evolved from soap opera to super involved drama, in which canon gets utterly chucked out the window to a great extent.  

In this, Anakin leaves the Order, becomes an ambassador, runs covert missions to help the neglected lower levels, is the Holonet’s favorite person, discovers what Palaptine really is and instead of turning to the dark side, assassinates the guy and takes over.  xD  (”Someone should make them agree,” and such.)   

This is a super duper short summation - seriously, we’ve been doing the thing for over 12 years at this point, though if you subtract the breaks it’s probably closer to 10, and have over a million words for the thing, as well as multiple subplots and character arcs - but here’s some general angsty-type stuff with the new Chancellor.  :D

A plethora of party invitations sat on a side table, ignored.  

 “I don’t know.  Maybe I never knew who you were, really …. Maybe everyone was right about you when they warned me about you.”

 The lifeless body of an assassin lay near the desk.

 “I didn’t think you’d go this far.  I mean, I knew about your temper, and I wondered after the whole gallery incident how far you’d really be willing to go, but I didn’t think you’d ever be capable of something like that.”

 The office comm blinked, signaling unheard messages.

 “Anakin Skywalker, what have you done?  What were you thinking?”

 He stood at the window, looking out across the cityscape.  In Republica new alliances were being made, the tide turning in favor of those who had supported the brash former Jedi who had revealed himself willing to go to any length to secure what he wanted.  In the mids and the lower levels, people were throwing wild parties, celebrating that their champion was now in charge and things were going to change.  Off-world, the Separatists were in full retreat, knowing that the clones now had the complete support of a new leader who took every death personally, and who had no qualms about exacting his own personal, painful brand of retribution for slights, real or imagined. 

Anakin cared about none of this. 

In the back of his mind, ever since Palpatine had fallen in the plaza of the Temple, was the look on Annalise’s face: betrayal, shock, anger.  Over and over, he replayed the scene: 

“It had to be done!”

“There was no other way, that’s seriously what you’re telling me?”

“Yes!  He wasn’t going to listen to reason!”

“You don’t really believe that.  You never have.  Why are you lying to me?”

“The decision had to be made.  For the good of the Republic.”

“I don’t know.  Maybe I never knew who you were, really.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Maybe everyone was right when they warned me about you.”

“I thought you were the one person I could count on, but I guess not.  Just … get out.”

“Anakin … “

“No!  You’ve said your piece.  You’ve made your feelings very clear.” 

And then he’d flung open the door, and she’d left, and he’d slammed it behind her.  

He hadn’t heard from her since.   

He strode to the bar and poured himself a glass of Ilosian, violet-black and swirling, then sat down at the desk - his desk, he reminded himself - and looked at his to-do list.  He checked off meeting with Sith delegation and meeting with Jedi delegation and meeting with Senate delegation.  He added Senate cleansing, then erased it.  Wrote Senate restructuring and left it. 

Anakin spun his chair and resumed looking out across the cityscape.  He knew he should sleep, but every time he closed his eyes he felt the lightsaber sliding in between Palpatine’s ribs, heard the involuntary hiss of surprise, saw the life leaving the man’s eyes.  Anakin had been surviving on alcohol-induced catnaps since it had happened, justifying the lack of sleep with the “there’s so much to get done to get the Republic stabilized” excuse, ignoring the fact that Palpatine ostensibly slept at some point. 

He pulled a small scrap of flimsy out of his pocket and made his way to the holoprojector.  He punched in the scrambling code, then the transmission code on the paper. 

“To all agents in the field: I wish to have a full status report on my desk by the end of your next solar day.” 

He disconnected, nodded to himself.  One more thing to check off the list.  He turned back to the desk, downed half of the Ilosian, and paced. 

Reckless … foolhardy … aggressive … insubordinate … impulsive … inclined toward the Dark Side … 

Everything the Council had ever said echoed through his mind.  Maybe they were right.  After all … he had enjoyed it. 

He’d enjoyed knowing that Palpatine wasn’t going to be a problem anymore, and he’d relished finally saying “to hell with it” and executing a plan no matter who agreed with it … until he’d found out just how vehemently some people had disagreed with it. 

Padme had stormed into the office as he was preparing his remarks assuming the chancellorship. 

“You’re already in here, I see.”

“Well, where would you expect me to be?”

“I don’t know, having some respect for the dead?  Although I guess you wouldn’t, given that you’re the one that murdered him.”

“What would you have me do, Padme?  Just let him take over?  Maybe send him some shoes and invite him out for tea?  I tried everything I could think of!”

“I didn’t think you’d go this far.  I mean, I knew about your temper, and I wondered after the gallery incident how far you’d really be willing to go, but I didn’t think you’d ever be capable of something like that.”

“Now you know.  I hope this has cleared up any lingering questions, Senator.” 

No one understood that he’d done it for the good of the Republic.  No one understood that this was the only way to end the war, which would end up crippling the galaxy if it was allowed to continue.  No one listened when he tried to tell them, so he took matters into his own hands, doing what had to be done to save a government buckling under its own bloated uselessness. 

Obi-Wan wouldn’t even return his calls.  A comm was still crumpled in the corner where Anakin had thrown it after finally losing patience. 

He sat in the desk chair and rifled through the drawers.  In the last one, he found a small box, which he quickly sliced, revealing a single scrap of flimsy covered in handwriting and a small red book. 

“Order 66?  What’s this?”  He read through the notes, written in the same spiky, cramped hand as the transmission information.  “So he had to know about the clones the entire time.  He’s had them specially programmed for … something.  I wonder what else he knew about.” 

He set the flimsy back into the box and picked up the red book.  Flipping through it, he realized  it was a compendium of Sith history, lore, and doctrine.  “This may be useful.”  He slipped it into an inner jacket pocket. 

He finished the Ilosian, picked up a pen and a blank sheet of flimsy, and began to write. 

Do the ends justify the means?  Palpatine was a danger to the Republic, but should he have faced Republic justice?  I goaded him into an encounter, knowing that only one of us would walk away.  What if I’d been wrong, and he’d killed me?  Everyone who’d ever sided with me would be a target, just like I’m making those that sided with him a target.  Although I’m not making them targets, I’m eliminating them altogether.  Very publicly, so all understand that corruption will not stand. 

But isn’t this in and of itself a sign of corruption?  I am fully expecting to act with impunity, because who will stand against me?  No one.  Opposing forces are already in retreat.  Those who fought me on the floor of the Senate are moving to stand behind me in an effort to save their own skins.  But does the intent excuse the action?  Those who will not cooperate will be dealt with, because I will not tolerate threats to this peace.  I have coddled these people long enough.  This time, they will do it my way. 

Already, I know that this will be a lifelong task, leaving the Republic better than I found it.  In the thousands of years before me, they haven’t managed to solve any of the most pressing problems - slavery, taking care of the Core Worlds to the detriment of all others, so many others.   Fixing these will be my greatest work of love for the Republic that has taken care of me. 

But ... 

What if I’m wrong?  What if there was another way?  What if I’ve lost everyone I held close to my heart?  Is there a line too far? 

Am I strong enough to pay whatever price may be exacted? 

The pen hovered above the flimsy for what felt like an eternity. 

What if I’m a murderer?   

He set the pen down and stood, making his way down the hallway to the private office, where he unlocked a small, handcarved chest placed behind the center chair, and set the page down on top of the already large stack of other similar handwritten pages. 

Anakin then turned and walked back to the main office, settled into the chair and gazed out across the cityscape, lost in thought. 

[inkognito97]

Nyctophilia - Chapter 15

Light:

“Good, good,” Sidious sick voice praised, his cold gold eyes resting on the Jedi, who had been thrown at his feet. Midnight blue eyes did not show any fear, when he returned the evil and amused glance defiantly. “Well done, my apprentices.” Obi-Wan and Xanatos bowed.

Dooku and his monster of an apprentice chose exactly this moment to enter the room. The older intruder stopped briefly, when his eyes caught sight of the captured Jedi, Maul gazed at the bearded male hungrily.

“We have done as you have told us, my Lord,” Dooku bowed as well, only the Zabrak did not show his respect. His attention was on the Jedi and there was lust and desire in his gaze, it was almost frightening.

Sidious nodded satisfied, “Maul,” that caught the Zabrak’s attention, “would you show our unexpected guest, our hospitality?” The way the red and black Zabrak’s expression turned into an ugly grin, sent shivers down Obi-Wan’s spine and when the almost unnoticeable tremble in Xanatos was any indicator, than he was not the only one.

“With pleasure,” a flicker of fear passed the Jedi’s features. Obi-Wan was sure that he was the only one, who had seen it, except Xanatos that is.

With that the Zabrak grabbed the taller male and literally dragged him behind him, the remaining people were excused then.

 Dooku soon returned to his quarters, but not before nodding towards Xanatos and Obi-Wan. He had been surprised about their success, that much was clear. And he was also man enough to acknowledge the success.

“What is Maul going to do with Jinn?” Obi-Wan asked aloud.

Xanatos looked at him briefly, “I don’t know, but,” before he could finish his sentence, a loud scream tore through the building. Maul’s quarters were close and the two men did not have to guess that Qui-Gon had been brought there.

“Was that,” Obi-Wan’s voice shook a little, but he did not care.

His companion was not faring better. His gaze looked in the direction, from where the terrible sound had come from. “Yes,” he whispered, then shook his head and quickly turned the other way. Confused, Obi-Wan followed him. He had to run to keep up with the older male.

They only stopped, when they had reached the door to Dooku’s chambers. Even here the pained screams could be heard, but they were already much quieter. Xanatos literally hammered against the door and only a moment later, did an irritated Dooku open.

“Forgive me my intrusion Master, but I wondered if you would allow my apprentice entrance... the screams are very loud where our rooms are.”

Dooku looked them both over, his face also held an unreadable expression. “Come in, both of you,” with that he stepped aside and allowed them entrance.

 The three males sat a little awkwardly on the black leather couches of Dooku’s living room. Everything in the quarters looked expensive and valuable. Obi-Wan was almost afraid to touch something.

“This is not what I wanted,” he said without even realizing it. Two set of eyes rested on him.

“Neither I,” Xanatos was the first to speak up again and he caught the Padawan’s attention, who blushed at his break in control.

“Nor I,” Dooku admitted. He looked troubled too, it was clear that he did want the torture to end as well.

Blue-green eyes looked between the two older males. In this moment, he realized something. The three of them were quite different, yet there was something that connected them together, that pushed their darkness away from all their hearts, it was Qui-Gon Jinn.

“We can’t allow this to continue,” Obi-Wan felt sick to his stomach, when another pained cry could be heard.

“He has gone too far,” it was clear, to whom Xanatos was referring.

“Maul is a monster and Sidious should never have kept him,” Dooku cut in. “Look or rather hear, what he is already capable of. Imagine how he will be, when he is crafted to Sidious’ pervert wishes.” Obi-Wan shuddered.

“Could it be,” the ginger haired male said slowly, “that this is all a big mistake?”

“You mean joining the dark side?” Xanatos chuckled, but without any joy, “Of course it is.” That surprised the two other males in the room.

“You,” Obi-Wan swallowed the lump in his throat, “you don’t want to use the dark side anymore?” “No... I don’t know what changed though.”

“I think I know the answer to that,” the grey haired Master spoke up. Two pairs of eyes settled on him, but he just waved his hand at the youngest in their midst. “The darkness can only be destroyed by light.”

“Of course,” Xanatos spoke up again, “we were all so blind.”

“What are you talking about?” the ginger haired teenager wanted to know.

“We are talking about you, Obi-Wan,” he pushed a few strands of black hair out of his face, “I think the time you spent with us... might have influenced us more than the other way around. We think that your unwavering bright presence might have driven the dark fog in our minds away.” Dooku nodded at that. Another moment of silence passed between the three males, in which they all pondered about the newest revelation. Then, “What are we to do about Sidious and Maul then?”

Shadow:

“Master,” the fallen Jedi made sure that his voice sounded worried and apologetic. He let himself slide to his knees and he bowed his head. “Forgive me.”

“For what?” the man’s voice was unfamiliar cold. “For killing two beings, one of them my former Master, the other my former Padawan, or should I forgive you for betraying and lying to me? Or perhaps you are asking forgiveness for falling to the dark side? Tell me, which one is it?” The usually composed Jedi Master was angry.

“Forgive me for not fighting more against the Council, for succumbing to their wishes and Orders,” that made the long haired man take a surprised step back. His lightsaber was still activated, but the angry and distrustful expression had turned to shock.

“What do you mean?”

“I am referring to my mission, Master.” “There is no mission!” thundered the older male.

Tortured blue-green eyes looked finally up, “There was, there IS. It is a secret mission,” he looked at his hands, which were resting in his lap. “I was supposed to infiltrate the Sith in order to find their leader and to sent the information to the Council. Just, things got quickly out of hand and unexpected enemies arrived. I wouldn’t have killed them, if they had not been too deeply anchored in the dark, you have to believe me!”

“I don't know if I can,” the words would have hurt Obi-Wan, where he still the stupid little Padawan, but since he pretended to be, he pretended to be hurt by those words too.

“I understand,” he mumbled, he bowed his head again.

Neither male said another word for the next few minutes. It was clear that Qui-Gon was thinking about his next steps. He was unsure, that much was palpable in the Force. He was afraid that Obi-Wan had become just like Xanatos, but the ginger haired teen had not become like the dead raven haired Sith, he was better. Or worse, depending on your point of view.

“And I will surrender to you, so that you and the Council may judge me and my actions.” That certainly took the Jedi by surprise.

The bearded man slowly stepped forward. Obi-Wan stayed where he was, not moving a single muscle. He didn't want to scare his former Master and perhaps future student away, at least not yet.

“I believe in second chances,” Qui-Gon eventually said. He was standing directly in front of the kneeling figure, who only tilted his head enough, so that he could look at the dark brown boots right in front of him.

“I already had mine… and look where it got me,” he sounded pathetic even to his own ears.

“It left you in a… bad situation,” the Jedi admitted and Obi-Wan knew that he was nodding his head, “You were ordered by the Council to accomplish this mission, you said. There you have it. Your desire to prove your worth has brought you in this situation, it was undoubtedly the fear of being casted aside that allowed the darkness to take hold in the first place. Therefore I will do the only logical thing,” he stopped talking and moved so fast that Obi-Wan could not have reacted, even if he had wanted to. Before he knew it, he found himself in a tight embrace of the older male, his head pressed against the other's shoulder. It was surprisingly comforting. Perhaps this was truly what he had missed… but being with the dark side gave you the ability to take whatever you wanted.

The ginger haired male hid his evil grin in the other's chest and his hands fisted in his beige tunic. “I am terrible sorry Master,” he 'cried' against the older man.

“It is me, who is sorry my Padawan. I should have seen your fears and I should have conquered them with trust and perhaps even with love,” he hesitated, “I promise that from this point on, I will never abandon you ever again.”

“Truly?” things were working better than Obi-Wan had expected. Oh, how love could blind people.

“Truly dear one,” the arms around him tightened.

The teenager pulled finally away, pretending to wipe away a few fake tears. He looked up and found himself gazing right into midnight blue eyes that held so much love and hope that it was truly disgusting to the young Sith. One would think that Qui-Gon had learned after Xanatos, but apparently this was not the case. Some people simply did not learn from their mistakes and some people were meant for more than the bright life of a Jedi.

“Master,” the teenager exclaimed, “the Sith Lord.”

Qui-Gon looked confused and perhaps a bit surprised at the unexpected outburst from his Padawan. “What about him?”

“He is still here… I can still feel his presence. If we hurry...” he let the sentence trail off.

Qui-Gon looked at the dead bodies on the sandy ground with a big frown on his features. Then his eyes turned back to Obi-Wan, who was getting up from his kneeling position. He offered the older male a hand. Hesitantly a large calloused hand, took a much younger one.

“Very well Padawan, if you are sure that we can face him and if you are sure that this is indeed a good idea,” he took a deep breath through his nose, “I trust you.”

Obi-Wan tightened his hold on his future student's hand, “And I trust you.” He did indeed trust him, he trusted him to fall prey to his scheming that is.

[inkognito97]

Fem!Obi-Wan AU

@ po-prostu-fangirl

Here is your second part!^^

Part 1 can be found here

When Qui-Gon Jinn had taken on a female Padawan all those years ago, he had mentally prepared himself for all kinds of things. Explaining to her the concept of sex, the functions of her body and the differences to his own, as well as the every prominent puberty and boy topic. Force, he had even asked Tahl – that had been the most embarrassing days of his life – for advice. In the end, it had not done him much good. One, his Padawan had already been educated and prepared for everything. Two, Obi-Wan had NEVER been anything like it was written in the books, she had never been especially bad tempered during her teenage years and Qui-Gon had never really had problems with her. Three, all his reading and all the private sessions he had with Tahl, had NOT prepared him for the case of his Padawan getting pregnant, ever, especially not by the Force. The last was what the Council in addition to the healers had come up with as an explanation. Granted, it was as good an explanation as any. But Qui-Gon still refused to believe that his dear girl was indeed the carrier of the so called Chosen One. He refused, he wouldn’t allow Obi-Wan to be treated this way, he would not.

 “Master?” a small voice brought him out of his half drowsy state.

“Mmh, what is it Obi-Wan?” he replied sleepily.

He heard the shuffling of her bare feet on the carpet of his bedroom, a clear sign of her nervousness. “Can I stay with you tonight?” She asked this most nights now, every since she had begun to show. He didn’t mind though, as long as his poor Padawan was happy. Also, he guessed that the need for contact was some kind of craving on her part.

“Of course, princess,” this was his newest nickname for her. Perhaps it were the awakened father feelings that he had developed for her, ever since the news of her pregnancy had come out. Or perhaps it was just the Force prodding him to watch more closely over her.

He scurried to the side of his bed and listened to the silent footsteps on his carpet. The long haired Jedi Master felt the mattress next to him shift and a second later, a warm body pressed against his. He instinctively turned and wrapped his arms around her form. It seemed to calm her.

A moment of silence passed between the two Jedi. Qui-Gon was almost on the edge of falling asleep again, when his Padawan spoke up. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he could still make out every word, she spoke.

“I'm an annoying burden, am I?” the female said, disturbing the silence. “What? Why are you saying this, little one?” Where in the name of the Force had that thought come from? “Because I am not acting like a Jedi… with my need of constant attention,” a pause, “I am never going to be a Knight.” He could feel the slight tremor in her shoulders, followed by a sniff and silent sobs. Qui-Gon sighed inwardly. The constant changes of emotions were getting to him too. “Sshhh, there is no need for that, because you are a strong and brave and beautiful woman. Do you know why I know this?” Obi-Wan shook her head and sniffed. She slightly tilted her head to look over her shoulder. He sent her an encouraging and loving smile. “I know this to be true, because otherwise the Force would not have entrusted you with this child. You are something very special and you are very dear to me.” A watery smile appeared on the Padawan's features and the Master mentally exhaled in relief. He was never good with dealing with distraught people, especially women. “Beautiful?” she asked shyly. “You have the brightest presence in the Force, you posses a pure heart and I honestly dread the day that I find myself unable to defend you against all the masses of admirers,” he chuckled at the last part. “I wonder, if you will still say that in seven months,” she trailed off. “I'm sure I will. I KNOW I will.” A comfortable silence settled between the two when the young Padawan suddenly took his hand and guided it to her swollen stomach. Qui-Gon, who had no idea what this was all about, remained silent, even when his hand made contact with warm skin. “Can you feel it?” she asked. He hummed and concentrated for a moment, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. She laughed, “No, with the Force.” “Ah,” he hid his embarrassment. Then Qui-Gon reached out with the Force and he sent a tiny wave through his Padawan's stomach. The Master was surprised at the small bright echo he received. “Force sensitive before it has a gender,” she whispered.  “It's incredible,” Obi-Wan was not quite sure, if her Master had even heard her, too focused was he on the life growing inside of her. It didn't bother her though, his joy and awe resonated in the Force and her mood became better as well. He truly was a Master of the Living Force, it was natural for him to be at awe at the development of new life.

She closed her eyes, intending to go back to sleep, but not before saying, “You are going to be an awesome grandfather, I can feel it.”

She didn’t get to know if he was shocked or humbled by her words, because the next instant, her exhaustion had already claimed her and she fell into a peaceful slumber, this time, not disturbed by nightmares.

Obi-Wan was glad when she spotted her friends upon entering the crowded dining hall. She briefly nodded at her Master, before going to them and seating herself at the table they had claimed. As soon as she sat, a tablet full of food was shoved her way.

“There you are Obi, we were wondering if something had happened,” Bant greeted her ginger haired friend. The female Mon-Calamari and Obi-Wan were best friends since the first day they met in crèche.

“Yeah,” Garen was also one of Obi-Wan’s closest friends, “You weren’t in morning classes.”

“I had an appointment with the healers,” answered the ginger haired Padawan around a mouth full of salad.

“With your Master?” Siri Tachi, a blonde human Padawan asked. She was sitting across from Obi-Wan and right between Garen and Reeft, the latter was very busy with eating everything that he could get his hands on.

“Yes,” she replied hesitantly after swallowing her bite. Siri’s tone did not bode well with her.

Obi-Wan’s friends exchanged glances and a silent conversation was held between them. For a moment, the pregnant Padawan felt like she was left out on something.

“Obi,” the tone in Siri’s voice made it clear that she did not actually wanted to talk about whatever was coming next. Siri took a deep breath, “You know you can talk with us about EVERYTHING, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she had no idea where this was going.

“Obi, the truth is,” Bant hesitated, “we are worrying, because you so often have to visit the healers. Also, you don’t join our partying anymore and we haven’t seen you sparring and training for a while now. We are worried that… that your Master might be involved somehow.”

Horror overcame the ginger haired Jedi. “How can you say that?” she was scandalized. Her Master loved her, if he didn’t, he would have thrown her away by now. They were talking about the man, who was giving up his freedom – something he craved and something that was deeply anchored in his very nature – to be there for her.

“Well,” this time it was Garen, “You have to admit that it IS kind of suspicious.”

She vehemently shook her head, not believing her friends could think so little of Qui-Gon. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. My Master is not responsible, not at all. He is helping me.”

“But you admit that there IS something wrong,” Obi-Wan silently cursed the blonde female sitting across from her.

Obi-Wan suddenly felt uncomfortable, but a gentle and questioning nudge over the bond she shared with her Master, reassured and comforted her in an odd way. She calmed down again and sent him a quick smile over her shoulder. He nodded and returned the smile, before turning back to his conversation. When she turned back to her friends, she found four pairs of eyes resting on her, Reeft’s included.

“Please Obi, you have to tell us, what is wrong,” begged Bant.

Obi-Wan escaped a suffering sigh. She had asked Qui-Gon, if she should reveal her pregnancy to her friends. Her Master had told her that only the truth will build up a friendship, while lies will break it. She knew what to do, she just wished it wasn’t so hard.

“There is nothing wrong per say, it’s just…” her friends were all looking at her with curiosity and great expectations, almost as if she would reveal that she was going to die soon. “well, I am… pregnant,” she shrugged helplessly.

A moment nothing happened, the table’s occupants were completely silent. Then, all hell broke loose. “What?” Bant exclaimed, her eyes were wide like plates.

“You’ve got to be joking,” was Siri’s opinion.

Garen was the worst, “Wait wait wait, are you actually telling me that YOU of all people had unprotected sex?”

“Garen!” both Siri and Bant exclaimed, the former even hit his arm, hard.

Obi-Wan was sure that her face had to be completely red from embarrassment and she wished that they were somewhere else and not in the crowded dining all, even though no one was really paying their table any attention.

“What?” Garen asked in confusion, “It was just a question.”

“Matter of fact,” Obi-Wan cut in, before it could turn into a full argument, “I didn’t.” She received three pairs of incredulous eyes for that, the one pair that was not looking at her, belonged to Reeft, who was staring intently at his meal.

“You DO know that it is not possible what you are just saying,” Siri asked hesitantly. “I thought so too,” her face turned an even darker shade of red, ��the healers say the child was conceived by the Force.” She desperately wanted to run away right now, this was all getting too much.

It looked as if her friends wanted to say more, but what happened next, stopped them. Reeft had suddenly just stood up. He had taken Obi-Wan’s empty plate and replaced it with his own. It startled all four of them. Reeft was usually the one, who asked if his friends were going to eat everything on their plates. Giving away his own meal on his own free will nevertheless, was a miracle.

“Reeft?” Obi-Wan asked.

He had seated himself again, “You need to eat, you will need it.” Tears were forming in the ginger haired female’s eyes. It was great to be cared for and it was great that Reeft just accepted her condition, just like this.

“Thank you Reeft,” from the look in his eyes, he knew that she meant much more than just the food. “But I am not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” he sounded skeptic.

“Yes,” she laughed.

“Alright,” he shrugged and took his plate again, instantly digging into the food on it. Obi-Wan’s laughter was joined by her other friends.

“Congratulations then,” Bant said, “but… won’t it interfere with your training?”

Obi-Wan was about to answer, but she felt an all too familiar Force presence behind her. A moment later to large hands came to rest in her shoulder and she felt her Master against her back.

“Is everything alright?” the Master’s deep voice asked.

“Yes Master,” she leaned against him, thanks to the bench she was sitting on, it was possible in the first place. Qui-Gon allowed it with a gentle smile. Obi-Wan turned back to her friends, “I will talk to you later,” she vowed.

Only when she had received nods from her four comrades, did the pregnant female stand up. She followed her slightly overprotective – it caused a warm feeling to emerge in her chest – Master out and back to their quarters. She may not be able to run through her usual workouts, but that didn’t stop her to learn other aspects of the Force. The Living Force was quite interesting too, if you understood it and Qui-Gon was a patient teacher. Also, reading on the caretaking and birthing of children, could be considered study on the Living Force as well.