#so shame upon shame upon shame for obi-wan here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aspentreewrites · 3 months ago

Text

and when all the flowers are rotten and all the cannons shot

Chapter 4

Pairings: Codywan

Tags/Warnings: (for current arc) slow burn, fake dating, only one bed, general angst and pining, realising feelings, tending to wounds, AO3 rating is E for future chapters

Link to read on AO3 here!

Description:

The truth of the matter burrows deep into Cody’s skin, settling into the home it’s long-since made for itself there, nestled tightly amongst the other secrets he harbours that are too shameful to ever speak aloud.

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(or: an account of the relationship between one Marshal Commander and his General from in the midst of a war.)

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A/N: Every like and reblog on my previous chapters have had me absolutely squealing, kicking my feet etc. <3 I recently realised this blog had asks disabled for some reason, so I've rectified that!! I have a oneshot in the works that will probably be posted before chapter 5, so keep an eye out for that, too!

Shout out to @whenyourfavouritedies (their AO3 here) for beta'ing as always!

Wordcount: 7.3k

Prev chapters: 1, 2, 3

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In the half hour or so the two men have spent on the cliffside, the wind has picked up again, and violently. Despite the usually tropical environment of the planet around them, the temperature has been dropping harshly along with the setting of the sun and the encroaching storm.

To say the conditions are miserable would be an understatement.

Obi-Wan and Cody remain unmoving in their positions, only occasionally breaking the silence between them to share quiet murmurings of intel over the howl of the wind.

Staying perfectly still as they have been, has both men growing numb, losing sensation in their legs from remaining knelt for so long.

Neither of them, of course, let it show. They’re professionals, after all.

“The atmosphere is more tense than it was a few seconds ago. Something’s changed,” Obi-Wan says softly, brows pinching together as he concentrates on the minute shifts in the Force around him.

Cody continues to watch the exchange down on the beach with a sharp eye, shifting the scope of the sniper rifle subtly to track Barrek as he paces back and forth. He pauses for a moment to allow Obi-Wan to adjust, the Jedi briefly rolling his shoulder to alleviate some of the discomfort that comes from being used as a living blaster stand.

On the beach, a durasteel briefcase changes hands among the group, eventually ending up in the possession of a relatively short Trandoshan man. He shifts uncomfortably as it’s pressed into his hands, inspecting the locks incredibly carefully, almost as if he doesn’t want to tilt the case too much or subject it to any sudden movements.

It is not, in Cody’s opinion, a particularly good sign.

“He looks scared,” Cody comments.

“He is,” the Jedi confirms. “Why though, I can’t say.”

Cody frowns as he observes just how delicately the Trandoshan is handling the package, his mind working overtime to figure out what could be inside.

“They wouldn’t have put a bomb in there,” he states slowly. It’s a ridiculous suggestion, and yet Cody can’t quite wrap his head around what else would cause such tension in the group below them.

“Certainly not,” Obi-Wan agrees quietly. “But there must be something volatile inside, of that I have no doubt.”

A hush falls over them once more as the group’s discussion continues. Barrek is approached by another individual attending the deal - the Trandoshan’s assistant, they’d pieced together from watching their earlier interactions - who pulls out a small datapad and taps away at it for a moment.

“Credit wiring,” Cody mutters. “Barrek’s part is done, and it looks like the party’s breaking up. All that’s left is for us to intercept.”

Obi-Wan dips his head in acknowledgement, keeping the movement minimal so as to not jostle the rifle too much. “Just… keep an eye on the Trandoshan. I’m sensing there’s– wait.”

Cody draws back from the scope to look at the other man, trying to ascertain what it is that’s caught his attention.

He barely has time to process the way his Jedi’s eyes suddenly snap open, a sharp shout of warning leaving his lips.

In seconds, he finds himself tackled to the ground, the back of his head making contact with a sharp and unfortunately situated rock as Obi-Wan’s body covers his own, pressing him securely into the damp grass.

Cody groans, ears ringing and eyelids fluttering as he tries to make sense of the disorienting shift in perspective. Barely a second later, a blaster shot flies overhead, exactly where the two had been kneeling seconds before.

Cold-bitten hands cup his face, forcing his gaze upwards to Obi-Wan. The Jedi’s eyes are locked on his, wide and urgent as the world spins.

“Commander. We need to move,” Cody hears him say, his voice muffled and distant from the blow to his head.

Obi-Wan’s fingers press a little harder into his cheeks, his jaw tense with worry. “Cody,” he tries again.

Cody blinks hard, shaking his head to dispel the lingering daze. He’s relieved to feel his senses returning to him more and more with each second that passes, though his head still pounds from the impact. He brings up a hand to check the back of his head, relieved to find that he doesn’t seem to be bleeding.

His eyes snap to Obi-Wan’s, the danger of their situation flooding back to him in an instant.

Spying on the meeting. Being shot at. Need to run. Right.

Cody manages a small nod, and Obi-Wan rolls off of him just as another shot rings out overhead.

“Escape routes?” the Jedi asks, the two shuffling a little further down the hillside to slip out of sight of the sniper on the beach. Before Cody can respond, Obi-Wan grimaces, shaking his head. “Nevermind - I can feel that the Trandoshan is retreating with the package. Blast it all.”

“Which way?”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes for a moment, his brow furrowing in the way it always does when he’s urgently searching through the Force. “Back down to the resort.”

“Then it looks like we’re following,” Cody murmurs.

They slip a little further down the hillside until they’re sure they can safely stand without taking a blaster shot to the head. Obi-Wan stands first, before turning to pull Cody up with him, holding onto his arm a little longer than strictly necessary.

Cody can see the concern in his eyes, and he wishes that the Jedi would for once understand that they don’t have the time to worry about his health while they’re in such a perilous situation. He can get himself checked over at the medbay when they’re safe. Before then, he is not a priority.

“How’s your head?” Obi-Wan asks, an apology clear in his expression. Cody starts off into the darkness ahead of them, giving the Jedi a quick nod over his shoulder as he does.

“It’s fine,” he insists, sounding more certain of that fact than he actually is. “We need to go.”

Obi-Wan sets off after him with a sigh that carries the weight of all of the previous times they’ve clashed on this very issue.

“You’re going straight to see Helix when we get back to the venator, Cody. No detours,” he says firmly.

“Is that an order, sir?” Cody responds dryly, ducking down to avoid a piece of debris flying his way.

“Undisputably so, Commander.”

Cody can’t help but smile a little at that. Obi-Wan has never much been one for pulling rank, even early on in the battalion’s deployment. The one exception he has always made - will always make, Cody suspects - is when it comes to the safety of his men.

There are many Jedi in the Order who take a blanket ‘mission-first’ approach to jobs, and Cody doesn’t blame them - there is a Galaxy-wide civil war, after all, and calls have to be made. His General, however, is not one of them when he can help it.

The two break into a sprint back towards the resort as the wind whips up around them, both men laser focused on salvaging whatever they can from this mess.

The question remains of how they were even spotted in the first place, how long they’d been noticed for, but that’s a matter for later. First of all, they need to get out of this with their lives intact - and most importantly, intercept the briefcase in the process.

They hear another shot go off in the distance, the ensuing blur of red plasma disappearing off into the darkness to their right. Between the storm-darkened sky and the force of the gale around them, their pursuers are thankfully at a disadvantage. A pleasant rarity for them.

“You always take me to the nicest places,” Cody calls over the howl of the wind to Obi-Wan.

His Jedi barks out a laugh in response, mirth twinkling in his eyes even through the dim light.

“Only the best for you, my dear.”

______________________________

When they make it back to the hotel, Obi-Wan keeps a hand on the small of Cody’s back as he quietly directs the both of them through the winding hallways, trying to keep their steps swift yet not in a way that’s too conspicuous to the guests they’re passing by.

Acting suspiciously when they’re so close to the end of this would be a foolish thing to do. Best to sacrifice some speed for the sake of their cover.

“To our left,” the Jedi informs him softly. “He’s gone back to one of the rooms.”

Cody nods subtly in acknowledgement, smiling politely as they slip through a group of guests mingling in the corridor.

“Well, we’re certainly being led into a trap, then,” Cody mutters through gritted teeth.

“Ever the pessimist.”

“Realist,” he corrects as they turn a corner, speeding up their pace just slightly when they see they’re alone. “And you’re telling me you think I’m wrong?”

Obi-Wan gives him a wry smile. “Of course not. I just like to keep an open mind in the event of a welcome surprise.”

Cody raises a brow. “When do we ever have luck like that, sir?” he asks, dryness bleeding through his tone.

Obi-Wan’s smile turns to a full grin. “Oh, it hasn’t happened yet, dear Commander, but I always hold out hope.”

They push through into the room Obi-Wan’s senses have led them to, the door left ajar by its previous occupant - another tally mark for the ‘definitely a trap’ column.

Cody has his blaster in hand and levelled immediately, his sharp eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement.

… Movement that doesn’t seem to be happening.

Lowering his pistol, the Commander shares a glance with his General. No one’s here. The room is empty, save for the briefcase they’ve come here for, laid out on the bed like it’s just any other piece of luggage.

Obi-Wan cautiously steps over, slowly picking it up and turning it over in his hands while Cody sweeps the room.

In his periphery, he catches a glance of something red and slick staining the carpet underneath the bed. He frowns, crouching to get a better look.

“Blood,” he says under his breath.

“Or wine,” the Jedi says breezily, still inspecting the case.

“Wine doesn’t have this consistency.”

“Alright,” the Jedi concedes, glancing over to follow Cody’s gaze. “A thick wine, then.”

Cody meets the Jedi’s gaze with a huff, the two breaking out into a smile despite the severity of the situation. He returns his attention under the bed, flicking a switch modded on the end of his blaster to activate a small flashlight.

His light is reflected back to him in the glassy-eyed stare of the Trandoshan from the beach, his features twisted in a permanent expression of fear. They arrived quickly - he must have been killed mere minutes ago.

Cody grimaces, straightening up. “It looks like the trap might not have actually been set for us,” he mutters. “Poor bastard. They must’ve had a traitor amidst–”

Creaking behind him, the door to the fresher swings open.

Before he has a chance to turn, the ever-so-familiar sensation of a cold metal barrel of a blaster presses against the back of his head. Cody sets his jaw.

Obi-Wan, from a few steps away, inclines his head slightly towards their visitor. He looks far from surprised at this development.

He offers them a placid smile, though Cody can tell from the way his breathing has become just a touch more shallow that he’s on full alert, ready to spring into action the second he has the opportunity.

“I wouldn’t recommend that course of action, Lia,” Obi-Wan says, his tone low and calm. “You must know it won’t end well for you.”

“Maybe,” the voice behind Cody confirms - very clearly that of the Togruta they’d met at lunch yesterday. Damn it. How had he not realised…? Of course she was in on the whole thing. More than that, even - it seems she’s actively double crossed the rest of the group. She knows who they are, so she’s likely been watching them since their arrival. “But at least I’d take out a thorn in the Separatists' side while I’m at it.”

The blaster presses more insistently against Cody’s head, exacerbating the throbbing pain that remains from earlier. It seems to be slowly getting worse, but perhaps that’s just the stress of the moment.

Biting down a wince, the Commander remains still, eyes locked on his Jedi as the other man negotiates for his life.

“And risk compromising the package in the process, after you’ve gone to so much trouble to ensure you’re the one to leave with it?” Obi-Wan gestures to the briefcase in his hand. “I must warn you that if my compatriot is harmed, I would have no qualms with crushing the contents of this, whatever it may be.”

Cody could spin around, attempt to disarm Lia, but such an action would carry a high risk - too high of a risk for such a small space. Undoubtedly, she’d squeeze the trigger at the first sign of movement, and a stray shot would go off. Even if he were to avoid getting hit in that scenario, the noise would attract the attention of every single member of security personnel in the hotel.

While they could definitely deal with that outcome if it arose, it would be far more preferable to sort this out quietly.

It might seem strange to one less used to high-stress missions, but Cody doesn’t feel particularly afraid, despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He’s scraped through worse odds. He will again.

If anything, he feels calm, centred, watching as Obi-Wan drums his fingers lightly against the edge of the briefcase - a restless tic to anyone else’s eyes, but Cody knows better. His gaze tracks as the Jedi surreptitiously taps out a code against the metal, ‘NOT YET’. He meets Obi-Wan’s gaze as it lands on him, blinking hard to show he’s understood.

“And how, exactly, would you even get access to the inside?” Cody hears Lia sneer behind him. “It’s durasteel, and locked with three separate–”

“You forget,” Obi-Wan interrupts coolly, “that I am a Jedi. I could reach in with the Force and simply destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to get.”

Decidedly not an application of the Force, Cody knows, at least not without spending a lot of time meditating on the case and its contents, but Lia doesn’t need to know that.

The lie seems, thankfully, to give her pause.

“... Fine. Hand it over, then, and you’ll get him back” she orders, her tone sharp with tension. Obi-Wan’s eyes flick briefly to the blaster behind Cody - decidedly not a good sign. Cody hopes she isn’t reflexively tensing her finger around the trigger, but with how agitated she sounds, it’s likely.

She can’t be that experienced if her trigger discipline is this sloppy, but unfortunately for Cody, this just puts him at more risk. He can practically feel the danger levels in the room rising with every second that ticks by.

“You’re stressed,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his gaze turning to Lia. His expression remains stoic, even as his fingers tap once again against the briefcase - ‘GET READY’. Cody flexes his hand at his side, waiting for the signal.

“Stressed?” Lia barks out a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, I’d say this is pretty high stakes for all of us. Hand. Over. The case,” she repeats in a low growl.

Obi-Wan tilts his head, observing her for a moment, calculating. He doesn’t make a move to step closer, or to start bringing over the briefcase. “It’s because of Barrek,” he states softly, watching her reaction to his words. “Isn’t it?”

Cody understands the game. He’s attempting to distract her, to throw her off-balance so that they can make their move. He only wishes that Obi-Wan wouldn’t choose topics that have the woman behind him pressing the gun even harder against his head.

“What?” she hisses, voice low and dangerous.

Cody barely breathes as Obi-Wan continues to observe her, the Jedi narrowing his eyes slightly. “Yes,” he murmurs, “you’ve done something, haven’t you? Something you can’t take back.” His expression softens to something akin to sympathy, attempting to provoke a reaction. “Oh, Lia.”

Lia stammers, but before she has a chance to properly respond, Obi-Wan taps out the final instruction - ‘NOW’.

Cody ducks down quickly, twisting around as Obi-Wan uses the Force to send her blaster flying out of her grasp. She yelps in surprise, and the Commander swiftly drives his elbow into the side of her head, knocking her out cleanly as the blaster clatters to the ground.

It’s quiet for a moment, as they wait to see if she’s truly unconscious.

When it’s clear that they’re out of danger, at least for the moment, Obi-Wan huffs out a breath, brushing down his robes. “Well, that was sufficiently exciting, but I rather think we shouldn’t stick around. If they’ve all double crossed one another then we have approximately five other buyers on their way to try and claim this. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Cody glances to the prone form of Lia, now crumpled in a heap between them. It’s almost a pitiful sight. “Shouldn’t we arrest her?” he suggests, his hand coming up to gently rub at the back of his head. The strange ache persists, despite the lack of pressure there now.

The Jedi performs a quick, final sweep of the room, shaking his head decisively. “No,” he says firmly, carefully picking up the briefcase. “We’re in neutral space, and she’s not a threat without that blaster. I’ll make a report, and the security stationed here can clean up once we’re safely away with the case - that is our priority.”

He makes his way over to Cody, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a concerned once-over. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft with the worry he’s no longer trying to conceal.

The Commander forces on a smile through the pain. “Never better.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t look particularly convinced, but regardless, they don’t have time to focus on that right now. He squeezes Cody’s shoulder before dropping it, gesturing for them to start moving.

“What was that about Barrek?” Cody asks him quietly as they slip out to the corridors once more, knowing it’s not quite safe yet to start running.

He glances at Obi-Wan as the Jedi sighs, running a hand over his beard. “I was trying to sense him throughout the altercation. I assumed he’d have been nearby, that he and Lia were betraying the rest of the buyers together.”

They pause for a moment, stepping aside to let a cleaner move past with a trolley. “They weren’t?” Cody murmurs, raising a questioning brow.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I could only sense the echoes of him. She killed him first.”

Cody blinks. “Oh.”

A silence stretches between them as they make it through to the foyer, trying to keep a low profile among the few guests awake at this hour. Obi-Wan passes Cody the briefcase as he saunters over to drop their keys off at the reception desk, sparing a few words of thanks to the staff.

Cody sees Obi-Wan suddenly tense, and moments later, one of the men involved in the deal on the beach steps in from the pouring rain outside, shaking out an umbrella. Cody swallows, shrinking behind two nearby drunk guests engaged in an animated conversation surreptitiously holding the briefcase behind him to keep it out of sight.

He barely dares to breathe as the man walks by, entirely oblivious to the two of them. Obi-Wan meets Cody’s gaze and nods for them to keep moving.

As soon as they’re outside and away from the harsh lights of the entrance, they begin to run.

Obi-Wan stays a few steps ahead as Cody covers his rear, keeping the case tucked securely under his arm and trying to keep an eye out for anyone who might be trying to intercept them - they’re so close now, but if Lia knew of their existence, then any of the others might, as well.

Thankfully, it looks like they’re in the clear, even if they do draw a few stares from the handful of resort guests who are still out in such conditions.

Cody’s feet pound beneath him, each step making his brain feel like it’s rattling in his skull, the splitting headache from earlier deciding to make itself as painfully known as possible.

Stars, he can’t wait to sleep this off.

Through some miracle of the Force, they make it to the docks without interruption, Cody rushing up the ramp of the ship just as Obi-Wan makes it to the pilot’s seat, powering up the engine and punching in the coordinates to Coruscant with a practiced swiftness.

As soon as the ship begins to whir to life, they both let out a breath of relief.

Cody stands, as steadily as he can, as the door closes behind him. The world seems to be swaying almost dangerously about him as the ship takes off, retreating to the safe confines of the stars above.

That’s strange, he thinks faintly - Obi-Wan’s piloting isn’t usually this erratic.

Cody stumbles slightly, careful to keep as strong of a grip as he can on the briefcase to stop himself from dropping it - a task that’s harder than it should be, given the circumstances.

From his position in the pilot’s seat, Obi-Wan’s head suddenly whips around, his face pale. Cody watches as his mouth moves, but he can’t quite parse the muffled sounds that come out of it.

He looks… alarmed, Cody belatedly realises. Trying to get his thoughts together is starting to feel like wading through molasses.

He tries to speak as the Jedi begins to rush over, but it’s a losing battle, hearing himself just let out a garbled string of noises. Logically, he knows that something is wrong with him, but he doesn’t quite have the brainpower to figure out what in the Galaxy it could be.

As soon as Obi-Wan is close enough, Cody instinctively shoves the briefcase into his arms for safekeeping, before he pitches forwards, only half-consciously registering the way his body comes to an unnatural stop in the air before actually hitting the ground, gently lowering the rest of the way.

The metal is cool beneath his cheek.

As his mind slips into nothingness, Cody’s last thoughts are of the gentle hands carefully manoeuvring him onto his side, and of the splitting pain radiating from the back of his skull.

When the darkness finally overwhelms him, it’s more of a relief than anything.

______________________________

Cody blinks at the offered weapon in front of him, not entirely comprehending what it is he’s being asked to do.

“I… are you sure? General, I’m fine with my blaster, I really am.”

Obi-Wan’s expression remains the same - almost unnerving in how unreadable it is.

There’s an irony to be had in the fact that Cody can tell so much from how hard the other man is trying to hide.

Late afternoon has come and gone within the training room in the Jedi Temple, the two men considerably dishevelled and covered in a sheen of sweat after an hour of sparring already. Despite this, it doesn’t seem to have been enough for Obi-Wan today. It’s unlike him; the seasoned Jedi Master usually prefers short, intensive bouts of practice with Cody over longer, more sustained sessions.

Outside, the clouds have gathered close, casting the room in that familiar dim, grey light that’s emblematic of the grim Coruscant winters.

“It’s necessary,” the Jedi insists, his eyes never once leaving the Commander’s. He frowns slightly, the motion breaking the mold of perfect stoicism he had been maintaining up until now. “Just take it, please, Cody. We have much to go over in little time.”

With a sigh, Cody finally concedes, reaching out to gingerly take the lightsaber that’s being offered to him. He rolls it in his palm, feeling the familiar weight of the hilt as he glances down at it cautiously.

He’s held the weapon countless times before; sheathed it at his hip even more frequently. But using it like this? It feels… sacrilegious, somehow.

Obi-Wan nods in approval as Cody’s fingers close around the cold metal.

“Very good. Right,” the Jedi says, his ‘mentor voice’ in full effect as he strides with a purpose across the room. He rummages around in a trunk full of resources for training Padawans - stun blasters and remotes for the training droids, mostly. Eventually, he pulls out two training lightsabers, activating the both of them with a scrutinising once-over.

“These will have to do. Now, Cody,” Obi-Wan begins, gesturing to the other man. “Crouch slightly, like this,” he demonstrates. “No - more weight on your back foot - good. Bring my lightsaber over your head, like so, and point your other arm forwards.”

Cody does as he’s asked, feeling more than a little foolish.

Fancy flourishes and footwork are a Jedi’s speciality, not his. For himself, Cody feels much more at home with a less aesthetically pleasing take on warfare. Blasters may be simple, but they’re also straight to the point - no need for posturing and intimidation if you’re going to just shoot someone in the head and be done with it.

Still, he tries.

“And… now activate it,” comes the next instruction, spoken a little more softly than the last.

After only a moment of hesitation, Cody presses his thumb into the activator.

The familiar light blue glow that emanates from the blade is oddly comforting to the clone, and hearing the low buzz of the energy above him feels like a strange, forbidden thrill.

He’s never seen anyone else fight with his Jetii’s personal weapon before, barring one time when Obi-Wan had fallen unconscious in the field and Anakin had grabbed it to dual wield with over his fallen body - even then there had been a moment of respectful hesitation.

Judging by the way Obi-Wan swallowed and cleared his throat when the weapon was activated, Cody suspects he might be one of very few to ever be granted the honour. He doesn’t quite understand all the intricacies of lightsaber etiquette, but he knows it’s a sacred thing to be involved with.

“This is… your way of doing it, sir?” he asks tentatively, trying to remain still and steady as the Jedi appraises his form. He offers what he hopes is a reassuring expression of sincerity, hoping to convince Obi-Wan that he understands - to an extent, at least - the trust that is being placed in him here.

“Yes, Form III, Soresu,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his tone quiet and more than a little distracted - he’s been lost in thought all afternoon, and Cody can’t ascertain why. It disquiets him.

Obi-Wan is often a very quiet, internal person, but he usually doesn’t let stress affect him to any visible degree. He must be particularly off-kilter today.

“We’ll go over a few of the basic movements, and then we can move on to an actual drill,” Obi-Wan adds, rolling his shoulders as they stand across from one another. “Clear?”

The next half an hour is spent with Cody repeating Obi-Wan’s slow, deliberate, defensive manoeuvres, he and the Jedi walking through an unhurried version of a duel, their movements large and exaggerated to teach him the steps. It feels more like a dance than anything else, entirely the opposite of everything the clone is used to.

Occasionally, Obi-Wan corrects his form by stepping over and gently repositioning his arm or moving behind him to adjust his shoulders - always with permission. Each time, Cody feels his heart rate quicken, though he tries not to think about it too much. This is not the time nor the place.

When the time then comes for the real spar, Cody watches warily as Obi-Wan joins the ends of the hilts of the training ‘sabers together, activating them into one double-sided blade, the handle in the middle.

A shadow passes over the Jedi’s face as he looks down at his own creation, but it’s schooled back into neutrality in seconds. Cody feels a sense of unease pass through him. He doesn’t like that expression.

“I’m… I’m not certain this is truly necessary,” he murmurs softly, wanting to give the Jedi an out from whatever it is about this that’s causing him distress. Obi-Wan’s gaze snaps up to meet his.

“‘Not necessary’?” he repeats, shaking his head in disbelief. “ Commander, you cannot defend yourself from an attacker with a lightsaber using your blaster, no matter how skilled you are. Blade up.”

Cody assumes the starting stance he’d been taught as Obi-Wan closes the gap between them swiftly, beginning to swing the dual lightsaber in earnest. Cody backs up, trying to put some distance between them with every successful block. He feels clumsy, awkward, and he hates it.

“I didn’t even have my blaster out when I jumped Greivous,” he reminds the Jedi, trying to keep his footing as the other man refuses to give an inch. Something in him doubts that he’d train Padawans this way, seeing that he’s barely getting a chance to put his earlier training into practice.

The memory in question, that usually never fails to make Obi-Wan smile or at least shake his head in exasperated amusement, serves to do nothing in the present moment but darken his expression.

“Yes, but that was Greivous, Cody,” he insists with a frown. “Not–” he stops himself short, letting out an uncharacteristic noise of frustration. “Arms higher, your left side is open,” he corrects in a snap.

Cody knows that Obi-Wan’s clipped tone isn’t meant for him, but he can’t help the way he tenses slightly in response.

“Obi-Wan,” he starts, grunting as he deflects another powerful blow, attempting to redirect it to the side. “Not who?”

The Jedi doesn’t respond, and Cody frowns, worry clawing at his insides. Something is very wrong here, and he’s entirely in the dark.

“If you’re defending yourself from Niman, Commander, you cannot rest,” Obi-Wan simply says through gritted teeth, ignoring the question. “One momentary slip of focus can be the difference between life and death.”

The unmistakable sound of lightsaber clashing against lightsaber fills the small training room, Cody doing his utmost best to keep up with Obi-Wan’s relentless attacks - and if the General’s frustrated expression is anything to go by, he’s not doing a good job.

He manages to get a few dirty hits in, taking advantage of the moments Obi-Wan expects a lightsaber swing to get a kick or two in instead. Usually, his creative thinking would earn him praise or at least an approving nod, but today it just seems to put the other man further on edge.

A few more minutes of duelling, of Cody desperately trying to keep up, and the Commander has made up his mind. The next time the Jedi approaches to strike, Cody deactivates the lightsaber in his hand, standing perfectly still.

The blade comes right up to Cody’s neck and Obi-Wan freezes inches away from him, his hair dishevelled and breath coming out in heavy pants.

Cody tilts his chin upwards slightly, incredibly conscious of the weapon that's humming centimetres away, yet knowing implicitly that he will not be harmed. They hold each other’s gaze for what feels like an eternity, neither quite able to muster the ability to speak.

The clouds outside have coalesced, drowning the room in a darker hue. The threat of the inevitable break of thunder hangs over the Coruscant surface, the planet itself holding its breath along with it.

“I don’t know what it is that’s going on,” Cody eventually murmurs slowly, choosing each word carefully. He almost feels as if he’s trying to soothe a wild animal, with the wide, tense look in Obi-Wan’s eyes. “But you need to snap out of this, Obi-Wan. Now.”

A year ago, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine speaking to his superior in this way, let alone with a lightsaber at his throat, sharing a single breath between them.

The seconds pass, fraught with tension as neither man dares to even blink.

And then, all at once, the facade of General Kenobi fades away, and the Obi-Wan that’s left behind crumbles.

The training lightsabers deactivate as he sinks to the floor, putting his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Cody,” the Jedi murmurs, the sound pitiful and broken. “I’m so sorry.”

Cody has never been the best at dealing with emotions, and he finds every word on his tongue dies at the sight in front of him. He crouches beside Obi-Wan, placing a hesitant yet supportive hand on his shoulder as his heart twists. He wants to ask what’s wrong, to offer support, but he doesn’t quite know how. So, he does the one thing he knows he can do.

He stays.

For minutes, the Jedi keeps his head bowed, staring at the floor with a distant expression. When the trembling that has beset his frame finally eases, he’s able to speak again.

“You do not deserve to be treated so callously. Forgive me, my friend. I have had… a lot on my mind.” His voice is low, ragged with exhaustion.

Cody waits for the other man to continue, watching as he runs a hand across his face and lets out a long, slow exhale.

“I… found out yesterday that an old adversary has… reappeared from the dead, it seems.” Obi-Wan says quietly, gathering himself as much as he can muster and finally meeting Cody’s gaze with a weary smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“He took the life of someone very close to me, a long time ago. And now he has returned, I…”

Cody swallows, hearing the words that have gone unsaid. A heaviness has settled itself over the Jedi, a weight he doesn’t usually let through - at least, not in Cody’s experience.

“... You’re worried someone else is going to get hurt,” he finishes for him, his voice as soft as he dare make it. Obi-Wan frowns, his attention turned to the endless sea of grey outside of the window.

“A Jedi should not be fearful,” he replies.

“That’s not a denial,” Cody points out.

Obi-Wan gives his Commander a rueful smile. “No. I suppose it isn’t.” His expression turns more serious, and he raises a hand to cover Cody’s hand at his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Both of their palms are sweaty, but neither of them care in the moment. “Cody, I…”

Cody remains patient as Obi-Wan struggles to find his next words.

“Maul is… a very dangerous man,” he begins slowly, “with a personal vendetta against me. And I wouldn’t put it past him to…” he searches the other man’s gaze. “... attempt to cause you harm. In fact, I’m almost certain he will.”

Cody blinks at that statement, said with such conviction, and yet he is unable to fathom any reason why that would be the case. He’s well regarded within the GAR, but he’s not important enough to be a target - not like that, anyhow.

“Why?” he asks quietly. Something sad flickers across Obi-Wan’s features, before he slowly pulls back, standing and smoothing down his robes.

“The whims of the Sith are a mystery to us all, my friend,” the Jedi answers flatly.

Cody’s brow furrows slightly as he stands too, certain that that isn’t the full answer.

He knows better than to push. Obi-Wan has an irritating way of only half answering questions when he wishes to, and Cody won’t begrudge him some privacy after such a vulnerable moment. Still, it concerns him. He can always try and ask again later.

“And you were right, earlier, of course,” the Jedi adds, his usual veneer of calm returned to him, settling over his frame as naturally as breathing. “All of this was entirely unnecessary. You are exceedingly proficient in all manner of fighting, and have put up strong matches against lightsaber-wielders before, even at a disadvantage.”

He dips his head towards Cody, his expression regretful. “My deepest apologies, Cody.”

Cody feels some of the tension in his body ease at the return to normality between them. He chuckles quietly, removing the lightsaber he had stashed at his hip.

“I understand, Obi-Wan. Besides, with how often I end up with this old thing, it was a pleasure to actually get to use it for once.” He holds out the lightsaber hilt to the Jedi, a small grin pulling at his lips. He tries to inject as much dry humour as he can into his words, wanting nothing more than to put the other man at ease again. “But if it’s all the same to you, sir, I’ll leave the fancy twirling to you. I never much was one for acrobatics.”

Before Obi-Wan can take his lightsaber back, a Jedi that Cody doesn’t recognise opens the door to the room. They quickly duck back out and apologise profusely for not having known the room was occupied.

In the moments before they disappear, however, Cody catches the way they hesitate, their eyes lingering on the lightsaber he’s holding out.

Their glance drifts from his hand on the saber, to Obi-Wan, then back to him with something altogether uncomfortably knowing in their gaze.

They slip away, and before Cody has the time to ask what that was all about, Obi-Wan is hastily gathering their things together and ushering the two of them away, back to the barracks.

Cody thinks about that strange look a lot over the coming weeks, as well as what Obi-Wan could have meant by his words about him being in danger from this newly resurrected Sith, but he never can seem to settle on an answer as to what either of them meant.

It is best, he ultimately decides, to put it out of his mind.

_____________________________

The first thing that comes to his mind as Cody wakes is the sound of the ship beneath him, the unmistakable soft hum of the engines as they navigate through space.

He feels a pleasant warmth shift over his forehead, migrating up to his scalp, and Cody’s eyes slowly, slowly flutter open.

It takes a moment for him to get his bearings, which is admittedly not helped by a large shadow that’s been cast across most of his vision.

He’s laid out on the floor of the ship, he realises, his head comfortably propped up on something warm and slightly scratchy as he lazily blinks. Overhead, the shadow swims into focus, forming into the shape of Obi-Wan. The Jedi is leaning over him with his eyes closed, in a state of deep focus. He hums as Cody shifts his head, trying to move but finding himself unable to for the moment.

“Hold still for just a moment longer, Cody,” he requests in a soft murmur. “I’m nearly done.”

It dawns on Cody that his head is, in fact, situated on the Jedi’s lap, the other man’s hands resting atop his head as he channels the Force into him.

Usually, this information would have been cause for alarm, but given the way the intense pain of his head has subsided to something altogether more gentle in response to the healing he must be receiving, the Commander tentatively allows his body to relax.

Cody watches Obi-Wan for a long moment as he works, quietly admiring the expression of peace on his face that he always has when in harmony with the Force, the small details that dot across his skin, the length of his eyelashes.

Strangely, despite the anguish of this morning’s realisation, Cody feels a quiet sense of calm fill him, too, a certainty that he had lacked before. He smiles to himself.

He’s in love with the man leaning over him. It’s not something that can be acted on or returned, but perhaps that’s alright. He can live with that, treat it as he would any other immutable fact of his life. It feels almost… refreshing, to not be lying to himself anymore.

After a few more moments of peace, Obi-Wan opens his eyes, peering down at Cody with his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I’m not the most proficient at healing I’m afraid, but I did what I could. You must have been concussed from the hit earlier.” He winces, his expression turning apologetic. “I’m sorry. I sensed the rock, but didn’t have time to divert you.”

His touch lingers on Cody’s scalp, his fingers unconsciously tangling gently in the longer-than-usual hair there. It’s a pleasant sensation, and Cody has to fight from leaning into the caress as a shiver runs down his spine.

He manages what he hopes is a non-shaky smile to the Jedi above him, raising a brow. “To be quite honest, I’d rather have a concussion than no head left to be concussed in the first place.”

Obi-Wan chuckles at that, a gentle mirth lighting up his features.

In a move that Cody has to remind himself is likely just absent-minded and meaningless, the Jedi slowly swipes his thumb over his forehead to brush away a stray curl of hair.

“I suppose you are correct there, my friend.” Obi-Wan murmurs fondly.

Cody’s heart gives a traitorous little flutter at the intimacy of the moment, and for a few precious seconds, the two just watch each other.

“Do you feel able to move?” the Jedi asks, eyes scanning Cody’s face, probably searching for any lingering pain or discomfort.

Cody nods, though he’s a little regretful to break the tranquil bubble of the moment. Slowly, he pulls himself into a sitting position, the dull ache of his head protesting at the movement, though it’s considerably muted now.

“Thanks for the help,” he says, the words coming out a little softer than intended.

“Of course,” comes the equally hushed reply.

Obi-Wan glances to the ship’s console across from them. “We’ll be back at the Temple soon. And then you can rest properly.”

Cody shuffles to sit against the wall of the ship, his eyes settling on the briefcase nearby. It’s been neatly stacked atop some datapads nearby, and the locks seem to have been sliced open with a lightsaber.

“What was in it?” he asks, glancing back to the Jedi curiously. Obi-Wan runs a hand over his beard absent-mindedly.

“Test tubes filled with an unknown substance. If I had to guess, a bioweapon of some kind, potentially one that could release a cloud of gas.”

Cody hums at that, stifling a yawn. It had been a long day, and it’ll be even longer by the time they’ve turned in all of their reports to the Council tonight.

“Makes sense as to why they’d have been nervous to jostle it, then,” he comments.

“Indeed.” Obi-Wan watches his Commander for a long moment, his expression softening. “You should take the night off. I can get the reports turned in myself, Cody.”

Cody would usually scoff at the idea, but right now the idea of rest sounds incredibly tempting - his body is practically screaming for it after the exhaustion of losing consciousness and the subsequent healing.

He evidently must not respond fast enough to dissuade Obi-Wan from the idea, as the Jedi breaks out into a gently amused smile.

“Good. I much prefer it when you don’t argue,” he jokes, and Cody can’t help but roll his eyes. “I’ll inform Helix to expect you when we land.”

Cody nods, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’ as they slip into a companionable silence. The ship continues to drift through space as Cody feels his eyes droop, heavy and unrelenting in their quest to pull him to sleep.

A sudden thought occurs to him when they’re only five minutes out from Coruscant, the realisation causing him to groan softly in frustration. Obi-Wan looks over to him, a question in his gaze.

“... We forgot our suitcases at the hotel,” he grumbles.

Obi-Wan blinks in surprise, glancing around them to confirm the statement. In a rare moment of genuine irritation that’s not directed towards Anakin, he drops his face into his hands.

“Blast.”

next chapter

✷✷✷✷✷

A/N: First arc down, but so much still to happen! Thank you all for reading so far. I hope you enjoy what's coming next :)

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @mitth-eli-vanto

#codywan #aspentreewrites #star wars fanfiction #tcw #cody x obi wan #commander cody #my fics #commander cody x obi wan #star wars #fanfiction #flowers & cannons #obi-wan kenobi x commander cody

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vaguely-concerned · 1 year ago

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Thoughts upon finishing Master and Apprentice! A good double read with Padawan; the ending of that leaving Obi-Wan slightly hopeful about his relationship to Qui-Gon makes for a very sad yet hilarious ‘Local Padawan loses last little bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of vibe to the beginning of this one, which is set one (1) year later and Obi-Wan is So Done with Qui-Gon’s whole deal by this point (correctly btw). Also if you can’t tell already I will not be objective or free from bias in this because I love Obi-Wan so much and some of the stuff Qui-Gon pulled made me incandescent with rage on his behalf <3 let’s go

- 'oh obi-wan, you're so mature for your age, I keep forgetting you're only seventeen years old,' qui-gon says, word for word, repeatedly, in master and apprentice, apparently willfully deaf to the industrial-sized warning bells about their relationship dynamic that should probably be setting off in his head. qui-gon believes in vibing with the living force and being in the moment right up until the moment requires him to pay attention to the kid he's raising for more than oh, one and a half minutes of self-effacing inner monologue and then he's like 'well unfortunately there is simply no time for that right now there are prophecies to be pondered'. (the fact that the admission that obi-wan has essentially been left to raise himself emotionally and the resigned reframing of that as 'and maybe that is a good thing!' is part of the olive branch they extend to each other towards the end... will my sadness never end)

- most of all it's so heartbreaking to me that qui-gon seemingly never understands just how much obi-wan as a person is rooted deeply in shame. I don't think that's a feeling that's particularly prevalent in qui-gon's own inner world so he doesn't recognize how central it is in obi-wan's psychology and completely misunderstands and misaligns with him again and again and again and then gets annoyed with obi-wan for that, thus making the shame even deeper. doubly painful because he does see the way rael lives so much of his life out of shame now and feels sad about it, but can't see the way he's contributing to obi-wan doing so. this is what fucks me up so bad about the generational trauma in star wars -- no one here meant to be cruel. for all his faults I do think qui-gon does love obi-wan and doesn't mean to hurt him. but the original sin of the prequels as far as I'm concerned is qui-gon tenderly drying away obi-wan's tears as he's dying even while completely failing to see him, his eyes too fixed on anakin's future to actually be with obi-wan, who's there right now and needs him.

these are simply very different people trying and failing to understand each other, and the harm that can still happen in that… 'if you love me, you don't love me in a way I understand', all the way through the disaster line, even when the love is there, it is there, that’s what hurts the most, it just doesn’t reach where it’s needed, there’s a connection that doesn’t happen. (ironically I think ahsoka doesn't doubt that anakin loves her, it's just uh everything else that went down. so y'know family curse broken! new even more fucked up curse achieved now with more child murder. I mean there already was some child murder in this family but anakin upped the game exponentially)

- a lil guy who's basically tarzan except the gorillas are replaced with protocol droids and then he becomes a jewel thief is one of the funniest star wars concepts I've ever heard and I hope pax and rahara get to pop up in more star wars media, they’re great fun. (also an idea I think would be super fun to make a character/campaign around in Edge of the Empire or something, everyone playing different droids and then one person being robo-parented lol)

- was not prepared to have rael posit a theory of what essentially seems to be the jedi version of predestination in his despair, but I do love to see it haha. especially interesting since he, qui-gon and dooku must be among the people alive who've studied the prophecies in most depth, and they've all reached different conclusions -- dooku decides to join the war of light and dark on the side of dark for some reason, qui-gon (possibly the stubbornest fucker the jedi order ever produced) 'turns towards the light not to win some great cosmic game, but because it is the light', and rael in the middle falls into the depressed apathy of 'it doesn't matter what we do here, the outcome is already decided; for there to be true balance there has to be as much dark as light in the world so we're fucked'. but in the end he does take qui-gon's words to heart and turns towards the light rather than accepting dooku's offer, even if he might not believe it makes a difference in the long run. man I love rael. hobo-looking sonofabitch living in a castle for eight years will just suddenly fling out some deep jedi theology huh

- master rael 'I'm gonna make up for the big terrible mistake I made on accident by making an even bigger more premeditated mistake on purpose' averross (affectionate)

- the added layer to dooku’s fascination with prophecy after reading dooku: jedi lost — that his best friend in the world was a seer who couldn’t turn it off and it destroyed him……….. dooku you’re not getting him back if you just understand what he saw you know that right

- the more I read of master and apprentice the more I realize that the reason yoda and qui-gon don't get along is that they're two of the judgiest bitches the jedi order ever produced. They’re like two cats scowling judgmentally at each other from opposite sides of the room pretending to live and let live while going ‘you’re wrong tho’ internally.

- I dunk on him constantly (not entirely without affection, however grudging), but Qui-Gon is genuinely a really interesting character. He’s so… he’s so. He’s infuriating but he’s infuriating in an equidistant sort of way. You feel me. He’s pissing everyone off equally and he just doesn’t care because again, he’s the stubbornest judgiest bitch around and thinks he’s right all the time. I would be free to just enjoy his ornery ‘no actually I’m right about this’ ass and the chaos he wreaks so much more if Obi-Wan didn’t have to live with the emotional consequences of it lol.

- poor rael closing in on fifty with his puriteen middle-aged little brother clutching pearls about his getting laid once in a blue moon fhdskjahfas. again a really interesting insight into different ways of interpreting the jedi code, though, I love seeing the jedi not be an ideological monolith. to be fair to rael, having sex sometimes does seem to be the indulgence he has that causes the least conflict with his principles or loyalties so you know what honestly force speed you my friend why not. (and then there's qui-gon 'noooo sex is only okay if you're In Love (implied: like I was)!!!' jinn lmao. I wonder what he'd think of anakin and padme's relationship, would that pass the 'being sufficiently purely in love' test for him) I do like how consistently it’s shown that rael doesn’t mean to be cruel or unkind in anything he says, he always notices something landing too close to home and then pulls carefully back from it instead of pushing on. He seems to be the emotional intelligence powerhouse in this lineage (as long as he doesn’t have his feelings too tangled up in something, at least).

Dooku: jedi lost also shows us that dooku absolutely knows rael is out there in the galaxy laying pipe and is, at worst, softly amused by it. So in this little family unit it’s only qui-gon losing his mind over it fjsdkafa I’m so used to having qui-gon be the wild card maverick compared to obi-wan ‘*in tears* but what are the RULES master’ kenobi, it’s so fucking funny that within the context that raised him he’s the stick in the mud

I guess. the book also had a plot and it was not bad! some interesting insights about how the republic interacted with the big corporations and just how fucked everything already was by this point. I'm a pretty character-driven reader so that's what sticks with me for the most part

- obi-wan’s big teenage rebellion here being that sometimes. Occasionally. When he really loses his temper and gets hot under the collar. He’ll say something slightly passive aggressive out loud instead of keeping it contained inside his head. And qui-gon still can’t handle that gracefully AT ALL he snaps right back fdjskfhas. (I guess he also snitches on qui-gon to the council but well, you know, qui-gon was breaking republic law pretty brazenly at that point I think that moves beyond teenage angst and into ‘...master that’s a wholeass felony’ territory). Obi-Wan does go for a couple of low blows, but like. Nothing that’s not actually true, is the thing. And mostly he blames himself for not being good enough, because surely if he were qui gon wouldn’t treat him like this. Augh. hngh. Pain. suffering.

- I am not one of the people who think everything would have automatically been just hunky-dory if only qui-gon lived and could have been anakin's master (in fact I would have given it a 50/50 chance of going exponentially worse way faster; being more similar as people is not always a guarantee that a relationship will go smoother and qui-gon is an incredibly difficult man to be close to for any length of time), but the way this book basically presents how the dynamic between dooku, rael and qui-gon could have gone on in the next generation too... it would have been incredibly unfair to obi-wan (as always I think that's just an universal constant lmao) but I think the odds of it turning out okay would have been better if you had him in the mix to run crisis control for both qui-gon and anakin, as he does for each of them individually as best he can anyway. at least he could have been free to be anakin's brother and friend purely in that scenario, without all the added mess of grief and having to take on a parental role there so young. he does basically fill that role in ahsoka's apprenticeship, after all.

- qui-gon finally hugging rael before he leaves the planet (and especially since when they were younger he wanted to, but held himself back from it)... that's still his big brother even with all the shit that's happened since ;_____; when someone teaches you how to swim (literally and symbolically) that shit stays with you I suppose

Relatedly: DOOKU getting hugged, and gladly. What the fuck. Are you all seeing this shit. I’m gonna cry or laugh I’m not sure which one why am I emotionally invested in the galaxy's most problematic grandpa now this sucks

#and that's the power of star wars baybey #star wars #master and apprentice #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jin #rael averross #count dooku #star wars meta

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fatedsith · 1 year ago

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“Regardless of how we feel about each other.”

Her words haunt him even as he returns to his bedroom, the one across from Padmé’s on the topmost floor of the Varykino Villa. It was chosen so he could watch over her more easily; sense any disturbances. Not that there would be, at this estate– Anakin is confident in her safety, as long as they stay here at the Lake Country. After all, Governor Sio Bibble had agreed with Padmé that the Lake Country was the most remote part in all of Naboo. Despite what Padmé seemed to think, Anakin did value her input, knowing confidently that she’s the smartest woman he’s ever met. She joined the Apprentice Legislators when she was only eight and attended Theed Royal Academy, being trained to be a public servant.

He’s always thought it was a good thing that Padmé chose to serve; she was kind-hearted without sacrificing her intelligence. She was wise, strict and soft all at once. Anakin didn’t like politicians or their often indolent and selfish whims. If it weren’t for the Senate’s refusal to act swiftly, Naboo’s blockade wouldn’t have ruined so many lives. The unlawful Trade Federation had claimed taxation disagreements upon Naboo, using their membership in the Galactic Senate to further delay action. If it weren’t for Anakin’s own actions destroying the Trade Federation’s control ship, Naboo’s forces might not have overcome the blockade.

As much as he loved being of use to Padmé, he hated watching the Republic cause her such hardship, forcing her to go to even more extraneous lengths than she already would have. She was a good queen and now senator; wise and caring. Someone Anakin would trust with the universe itself, if the responsibility of it were placed on her shoulders. It was a shame all politicians couldn’t be more like her, and it was one of the many things about her that inspired him enough to keep her in his thoughts and dreams.

One of many things. There was also her beauty, and the connection they shared… the fact he can’t shake her from his visions. He would dream of her and in them they would talk and play, just like they had in the meadow. He felt as if he knew her more than he did; as if everything about her was also a part of him in some way. Lingering, even when she left him for ten years.

It’s why it leaves him in agony when she rejects him, telling him to come back to the real world as if his love was nothing but child’s play. He knows it’s not and it never was, even when they were children. He felt it— felt that they were meant for each other. Even the Force seemed intent on telling him so.

He returns to his bedroom with frustration and an aching sadness, discouraged. Why couldn’t she see they were meant to be? She wouldn’t even accept him when he tried to offer to keep it a secret. Didn’t she want him? She spoke delicately as if she did, dancing around the words. “Regardless of how we feel about each other,” she’d said, as if she felt it too.

That magnetic pull between them, like they needed each other. Or maybe only Anakin needed Padmé… Maybe he was a fool for coming here, thinking the senator still cared for him. Maybe Obi-Wan was right, as much as he hated even thinking the thought. But it had felt real to him, at the time– the way they kissed. She kissed him back; he’d felt it. The press of her soft mouth to his and the look in her eyes at the way his fingers trailed against her naked back.

He needs more– felt more. He swears he did, especially in the way she wiggled beside him, as if she was trying to put a lid on something she felt. Force it down, choke it out.

Or that’s what he tells himself as he starts to take off his robes, first the belt and then the leather overcoat. Pulling off the brown tunic with long sleeves, he rests the clothing on the end of the bed, leaving him shirtless.

The room Padmé gave him is adorned with the same golden curtains as in the sitting room, along with matching red velvet seats near the window. Everything is ornate; golden and beautiful, just like her and the rest of her world. Everything reminds him of her; the curtains, the intricate baroque furniture and expensive rugs. She’s like a princess, even though she isn’t a queen anymore. Maybe he thinks of her as one because she rules over his very heart and soul.

So he’s pulling his pants apart, sliding the loose dark fabric down. Jedi robes were so airy, which was good most of the time but not so much when he was trying to hide his arousal. How could he not be? Sitting beside her in a dimly lit room when she looked so beautiful, admitting she might feel something for him, just like in his dreams.

He had removed his shoes already because it was improper to wear them inside of the villa, especially up in this section of the castle. So he sits down on the bed, leaning against the headboard as his hand slips beneath the fabric of his underwear, his pants still half on his legs.

There’s a low fire crackling in the fireplace that they’d lit earlier; the one in the corner of his room. It illuminates his golden skin, making it easier to see his erection as he pulls it out. A soft frustrated sigh leaves him as his fingers close around his throbbing length, stroking gently and finding himself surprised at the force of pleasure that rolls through his body in response. It feels too good, thinking about her soft pink lips and the way they felt when they kissed on the veranda. It turns him on even more than her beauty does, knowing that she wanted him too, even if it was fleeting. Even if it didn’t mean to her what it meant to him.

How could she? “I will not give in to this,” she said, as if she wanted to give in. It’s all he can think about, almost obsessively, as he strokes himself a little harder. It feels like a betrayal of some kind, the way she rejected him after leaving him with the most incredible feeling he had ever experienced in his lifetime. All he can think about is the way her sweet mouth tasted, slotted against his. Frustration laces into the way Anakin touches himself, jerking off a little faster as his face contorts from the pleasure of it. He thinks about what would have happened if she did give in; if she would have had him on the couch. It’s enough to make him leak, getting his fingers wet as he touches himself, panting softly.

What he doesn’t expect is for the door to push open, hearing his name in her sweet voice. His head snaps up, looking for her in the dim light, hand still around himself. / @fatalqueen

#⸻ prose ๋࣭⭑#⸻ ft padmé ๋࣭⭑

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staycalmandhugaclone · 1 year ago

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Star Wars Rant - Take 2!

Guys. Guys, I’m sorry. I had a thought on the way to work today… and now I’m going to force it upon all of you, too, so that at least I won’t suffer alone.

Kaminoans do not value emotion. They value perfection. In fact, the social demand for genetic perfection is what led them to cloning and thus gave us our lovely copy/ paste cornucopia of delicious potential for OCs, wartime angst, and brotherly shenanigans. We know each clone ended up developing a unique personality even as cadets, but imagine the first batches. They didn’t have older clones to look up to, to learn that becoming their own person was okay. They had asshole mercenaries, the legendary original source for their DNA, and, most abundantly, the Kaminoans to raise them.

Children learn through mimicry. They see their guardians interact with the world, and that’s the initial outline for who they become. If they spent most of their time around the Kaminoans, that means they would likely view emotions as a detriment, with some interplay offsetting that from Jango and the mercs.

Fast-forward a couple generations to the discovery and implementation of said clones, during which time the Kaminoans have likely done away with anyone who strayed too far from their ideal soldier, furthering the general understanding that emotions are dangerous and something to be stifled. Then, suddenly, here are these Jedi Generals who fall all over the emotional spectrum! Shaak Ti shows them compassion. Yoda shows them acceptance (and chaos, let’s be real). Anakin shows them fun (also chaos. So much chaos). Obi Wan, the biggest flirt in the damn galaxy, just completely upends whatever textbook definition of romance may have been briefly taught to “prepare” them as cadets.

What I’m really getting at, though, is that clones were brought up without love. They were created by a race that pretty much bred out any tendency toward affection, trained by a man who regarded them as lesser copies of himself, and *decommissioned* if they displayed too much independence (I know there are caveats to this, such as Alpha-17 and the CCs, but they had much less patience for the CTs). And here are these Jedi who love in such a blindingly open and overwhelming way. How do they cope with that? How do they not become insanely loyal to these kind, generous beings that don’t treat them like numbers for the first time in their lives??

And then there’s the other side: the squads that have the misfortune of being paired with Jedi less prone to that innate goodness, the squads trapped with Krell and Ki-Adi-Mundi. They never get the chance to feel valued as anything other than a tool. They may have heard the word “love” but would never be allowed to experience it, platonic or otherwise…

I don’t have any grand ending thoughts here beyond the absolute tragedy that those men suffered, but I will say, it does tempt me with some utterly angsty and beautiful thoughts for emotionally crippled clone OCs and emotionally traumatized reader OCs accidentally find each other through various whumpee ways… be a shame if someone was inspired by this and tagged me in whatever may or may no come of it...

#staycalm talks #staycalm rants #again #everything about the clones is just heartbreaking okay?#star wars #star wars rant #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #tcw #sw tcw #emotional baggage

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padfootagain · 2 years ago

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Stars in the Evening

Hello everyone! Just felt like writing a little something for our dear Obi, so here we go! (Quite proud of this one, btw, ngl...)

I hope you all like it! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

Warnings: Mentions of warfare and grieving, sad, hurt/comfort

Summary: This war has taken its toll on you, but Obi-Wan is here to help.

Word Count: 2199

Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You know that it shouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

You’re at war. It happens. Dying. Killing. Surviving. Death and life mingled like never before.

It’s everywhere, in every corner of the Galaxy, around every sun in the sky. It’s everywhere, after years of fighting, you should be used to it.

You’re not. It hurts. A lot. It hurts to see your friends dying, to see hope slowly vanishing from their eyes, to take lives after lives because it’s the only way, or so they say. You’re not sure anymore. You’re not certain of anything.

You were not trained for this, though. Jedi, these are keepers of the Peace. No generals. No commanders. No soldiers at all.

And now there you are, in the gardens of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, sitting on your own on a bench, and you’re not sure of anything anymore. When you look down at your hands you’re surprised to not find them reddened with blood. When you look up at the stars above your head, you wonder if they’ll still be there tomorrow evening.

You did not expect this life, but there’s no choice, not any real one, at least. There’s the Force. There’s Life. There’s Death. And in between there are innocents to protect. That’s what you keep repeating to yourself; these are the words you believe less and less these days…

There’s one thing steady though, through the tumultuous current. One constant, as unwavering as the speed of light. A shame it’s a forbidden one…

You feel his presence before he appears. You always do. For a long time, you thought it was because of the Force, because of the peculiar way It moves around him. You’re no such fool now, after so many years.

You love him, it’s as simple as that.

When you look up, Obi-Wan is walking towards you, in his brown robes, in his beige clothes and his leather boots. He’s worried, you can tell. He’s got this frown of his, the one he wears when he is saddened or afraid. His beard and hair glimmer in the soft yellow lights of the garden, it’s warm and reassuring. You’re almost ready to smile at the mere sight of him.

Almost… not quite…

His pace slows down as he approaches, blue eyes fixed upon yours, like he’s afraid you’ll run away and disappear if he comes too close. And maybe he’s right. If he approaches, maybe you will flee. It’s easier than to face the truth.

You want him to hold you tight though. You want him to lie to you, lie to you with all he has in him. You just want him to claim that everything will be alright, just for a moment, before the world crumbles down for good.

He stops a couple of steps away from you, head slightly tilted to the side. You want to crumble. You want to let it all out, but you shouldn’t. You can’t. You’re a Jedi. You can’t let your emotions get the better of you…

He’s standing still, wrapped in his warm cloak and silence. No sound of pebbles rolling under his feet anymore. Just the distant buzzing sound of speeders crossing the gigantic city. The quiet whispers of the night. Your breathing, and his.

He lifts his hand to his face to run his fingers through his beard, his other arm crossed before his chest. He’s worried, thinking, weighing his options. You recognize the obvious sign.

“Can I do something for you, Obi-Wan?” you ask him, breaking the silence first.

He stares at you for a moment more before letting out a sigh, and letting his hands fall idly by his side.

That’s how he feels. Idle. Unable to help. He hates it with all his might.

“May I join you?”

You merely nod, scooting over to make some room for him to sit by your side. You look at him as he does so, movements slow and reassuring, soothing. You stare for a moment at his profile as he looks at the gardens before him. Dark blond hair and beard, blue eyes that seem sadder than they should be. When he looks at you and finally speaks, his voice is deep, warm, soothing. Not quite like a friend. Not like a Jedi. He speaks more like a man in love.

Is it so surprising, after all?

“I heard about what happened during your latest mission. I’m sorry.”

“It’s war.”

“Master Lios was a dear friend of yours. I’m terribly sorry.”

You don’t say anything. You can’t. Because there are too many conflicting thoughts in your mind right now, too many feelings you should suppress but you can’t.

You’re grieving a friend. You feel guilty for making it out of this mission alive when your friend didn’t. You feel relieved because Obi-Wan should have come with you to Tattooine, but he was called away to help Anakin at the last minute. And you feel so terribly guilty for being relieved, but you’re glad he wasn’t there, that it wasn’t Obi-Wan who came with you and died.

You shouldn’t feel like that, and yet you do. Because Master Lios was your friend, but Obi-Wan is…

You look up at him again, blue eyes catching your gaze, and the truth is engraved all over your heart.

Obi-Wan is everything.

He looks sad. Filled with pain. Infinite eyes to host a never-ending sorrow. You wish you could make it disappear, but then again, how could you? You feel just the same…

Because you’re at war. Because you’ve killed, because you saw your friend dying, because you love Obi-Wan with every fibre of your being and you’ll always be apart…

You’re a Jedi. But you’re human too. How much pain can a human take before it kills them?

Only when Obi-Wan brushes the tear falling down your cheek with his thumb do you realize you’ve been crying.

“I heard you were wounded,” he goes on, but you shake your head.

“Nothing serious. I’m fine.”

But you’re still crying, you can’t seem to be able to stop. Silent, salted tears you can’t bite back this time.

Before you can say anything else, Obi-Wan wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

He smells of candles, of leather, of warm tea. Linen. Quiet nights. Early mornings.

He smells like home.

You feel safer, all of a sudden. The lie works, and for a moment more, you believe everything will be fine. As long as he holds you close, you’ll be just fine.

He shouldn’t let himself run his fingers through your hair, shouldn’t hold you so tightly, but he can’t help it. Your eyelashes tickle his cheekbone as you close your eyes, your hair feels so smooth between his rough hands. You smell of candles, of koyo melons, of sweet soap. Cotton. Hidden whispers. Quiet dawns.

You smell like home…

“I’m not sure I can do this anymore, Obi,” you confess in a breath, shaky and fragile, words swallowed by the night as soon as they pass your lips. “It’s too hard. And I… I’m so tired…”

“I know. I know…”

“I wish we could run away,” you admit.

You feel him sighing, feel the warmth of his breath against your temple, the movement of his chest as he empties his lungs. When he kisses your forehead, you both know he shouldn’t.

None of you truly care though.

“I wish we could too,” Obi-Wan whispers against your skin, his beard tickling you as he moves his lips. “But we can’t. None of us could live with the guilt if we did. Not now, at least. Not when we are so desperately needed here.”

You nod, although you’re not as convinced as you usually are. You’ve had this talk before, the wise resolution is always the same. This time though, you wish he could change his mind, gather his things, and leave far away…

But then, the war is everywhere, in every corner of the Galaxy, around every sun in the sky. It would be useless. There are too many ghosts to leave behind. They would always end up following you. Besides, if you left, how many more ghosts would be born out of your absence?

He’s right. You know he is. It still hurts all the same.

You tighten your hold on him, fists grasping at the smooth fabric of his clothes. As if holding onto a lifeline.

“What if you’re the next one?” you ask, voicing this fear that’s devouring your heart, that’s keeping you awake at night. Your voice is so drenched with tears, so tight in your throat, you barely recognise it as your own. “What if you leave me? What would I do then? Obi-Wan, what would I do if you died?”

But he shakes his head, holding your face in both his hands, thumbs grazing across the smooth skin of your cheeks in a delicate caress. He smiles.

“I will not pretend that there are no risks at all. But it doesn’t matter, Y/N. I’m here. I'll always be here for you. Don't you know that by now? That I'll never leave? Not really, at least. Not the way it matters."

He takes your hand, guides your palm to rest on his chest, right over his heart, so you can feel its steady beating.

“I should not give it away,” he breathes, words that he shouldn’t say but they’re true all the same. “And yet, it belongs to you. Always have. Always will. Even if something happened out there, I would always look after you. Through the Force. I would always be there.”

You nod, and you don’t need to speak the words for him to know that you feel the same. That your heart belongs to him, that it has for what seems like forever, that it will always belong to him.

“I’m so scared,” you let out in a murmur. “And I know it’s not the Jedi way, but I can’t help it. I’m just… I’m so tired…”

“I know. I know…”

“And this… the way I feel for you… I simply cannot… ignore it. It hurts. It’s painful and maybe… Maybe I love you a little too much, and that's why it hurts sometimes."

You let out a trembling sigh, before leaning to rest your head on Obi-Wan shoulder. He rests his cheek against your hair.

“Do you think I’m weak, for feeling this way?” you ask him.

But he shakes his head, voice hoarse, his throat too tight.

“No, of course not. I think… this is war. And we were taught to love all. How can we fight a war if we’re meant to love and protect even those we must destroy? And we have lost so much already… I do not think you are weak. Not at all. I simply think you’re tired, and in pain. After all you’ve had to live through, it isn’t that surprising. But I also know that you are brave, caring, generous, and loyal to a fault. And I know that no matter how you feel now, tomorrow, when your help is needed, you will answer. Because you were born for this, just like I was. And it is not our way to let others suffer when we can help, even if just a little, even if we can’t save them all.”

You nod, because he’s right. Tomorrow, after a sleepless night, you know perfectly well what will happen. You’ll meditate in your chamber as the sun rises over the skyscrapers, setting their windows on fire. You’ll get dressed. Head for a breakfast you’ll barely touch at all. Laugh at Ahsoka and Anakin and their everlasting banter, because you always do. You’ll talk with Obi-Wan, trying to hide the way you want to kiss his lips every time they move. You’ll train for a while. You’ll wash up and you’ll head to the Council Meeting, and you’ll listen to the reports and you’ll tell about what happened to Lios. And then Master Yoda and Master Windu will turn to you with a new mission, a new village to protect, a new base to evacuate. And you’ll accept, with a bend of your head. Silent. Obedient. Because you know that if you don’t help, no one else will.

“I wish we could be selfish, just for once,” you plead. “I wish you could stay. Just this once. I wish we could both stay and be as we were before all this: a little more innocent; a little more carefree.”

“These times have passed. They are only memories now. But I am still here. I am still here.”

You let him hold you for a little longer. And you wish he would kiss you, but you know he won’t. Because you are both Jedi. Because it would hurt too much to believe in love when dawns are bathed in blood rather than hopes. Because it would hurt him too much if he let himself love you the way he craves to.

Instead, it’s better to hold you tight, and to pretend it’s enough; as if he were certain that the stars above your heads would still be here tomorrow evening...

#obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan x y/n #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan #obi wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan kenobi oneshot #obi wan fic #sw #sw fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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dai-bendu-conlang · 2 years ago

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hi! i just recently stumbled across this project and first off, massive fan of what y'all are doing here! (linguistics <3)

but i was wondering if there was any particular reason you've only created the one pronoun for second person, as opposed to separating the singular and plural as you've done with the rest? it just reads a bit funny to me as an ESL speaker, so i was curious as to your thought process ^^

i hope you all have a good day! (and that i'm making sense, it is... rather late here oops)

Hi! Assuming you’re referring to “keel” if I inferred this correctly?

We chose this to be representative of community. I have a half finished essay on our pronouns floating around (but as you can tell, we’re all not really into Star Wars anymore) and the section on that is pretty much:

This sense of community is also mirrored in the use of the singular and plural second person pronoun keel. The reason why Dai Bendu has only one word for those two pronouns is highlighting the role a single person plays in a community. As a culture that abhors leaving people without support, and has made it their very mission to improve the galaxy, the idea of a person being alone is absolutely terrible. Their grammar reflects that. Addressing a singular you also always means addressing the plural you, the community they stem from. This is also something the Jedi practice themselves. In Rogue Planet, after Anakin got into trouble, it is not just him that has to attend a disciplinary hearing but Obi-Wan too.

Mace was unrelenting. "I ask again, what was your error?"

“I brought shame upon the order and the Temple," Anakin responded quickly now, his voice high and soft.

"That is hardly precise. Again, your error?"

"To break the laws of the municipality, and. . and..."

“No!" Mace declared, and his smile vanished, replaced by a stern expression, like the dark underside of a cloud heretofore painted by sun. Anakin flinched.

"Obi-Wan, explain to your Padawan his error. It does, after all, arise from the same roots as your own." Mace regarded Obi-Wan with a lifted brow.

Obi-Wan considered this intently for a long moment before answering. Nobody tried to rush him. Inner truth was a perilous journey, even for a Jedi.

"I see it," he said. "We both want certainty."

Anakin stared at his master with a puzzled frown.

"Explain to us all how you have failed your Padawan," Mace said, gently enough, considering the turnabout in the proceedings.

"He and I are far too young for the luxury of certainty," Obi-Wan began. "Our experience is insufficient to earn us even momentary peace. As well, I have been more concerned with his growth than my own, distracted by his obvious flaws, rather than using his mirror to guide me, so that I may in turn guide him."

Your actions and the way you behave reflect upon your entire community as they brought you up and raised.

From Power of the Jedi Sourcebook:

"When a Jedi behaves badly in public, an observer might think, 'If this Jedi is a representative of the whole Order, then plainly no Jedi is worth respect.' On meeting a second Jedi, who behaves better than the first, that same person might think, 'Does this say that half the Jedi are good, and half bad?' On meeting a third Jedi, who behaves as well as the second, the person thinks, 'Was the first Jedi an exception, then?' In this way, only by the good behavior of several Jedi can the public be certain that the poor behavior of one Jedi was unusual. Thus, it takes many Jedi to undo the mistakes of one."

When considering all these passionate notes, it only seemed appropriate to us that the value system for our pronouns is community based to give the Jedi a chance to express how much they love their Order via grammar. Encoding information about social categories into pronouns is also nothing new and can be found in various languages across language families.

So, in that sense, that but of Dai Bendu is rather artificial instead of following a natlang development, but we thought it was neat

#dai bendu #jedi #ask #star wars #syntax #ozzystar2

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fionajames · 2 years ago

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Favourite sw writer of mine could you please write anything including force ghost Obi-Wan and Anakin I miss them..

Sorrow and Solace.

aww im ur fav? YAY!

OFC YOU CAN!

Im not entirely sure of this is what you want but here you go!

I wrote this as though it were poetry, so read it in that tone.

Anakin watched as Ahsoka swung her lightsaber, eyes closed with focus. She’s been scouring the galaxy for traces of Thrawn but right now, she was training. He watched fondly as she repeated numerous lightsaber techniques.

“How is she doing?” A voice called and he turned to see Obi-Wan, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes. It felt so wrong to see him with white-haired-features and he loathed looking into the eyes of the brother he killed. He killed Obi-Wan. He’d never forgive himself for that.

“As usual,” Anakin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Still reckless and still searching.”

“And she won’t stop until she does,” Obi-Wan smiled, staring at his former Grand-Padawan. He fondly laughed as he watched, and Anakin turned to him.

“What?” He asked, smiling as the happiness seeked through their bond. Although it was shattered moments later.

“I just realised,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “Just before the First Battle of Geonosis, I told you you were going to be the death of me, and look where we are now!” He laughed as though he’d made the funniest joke ever. Anakin wasn’t finding it funny. He shrunk back, shame eating at his insides at the reminder. Obi-Wan turned to him - still laughing - but upon seeing his brother’s shattered expression, he faltered. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you have to bring that up?” Anakin choked out, a tear falling from his eyelashes. Obi-Wan’s heart shattered as he moved to wrap his brother up in a hug, sobs spilling from the boy in despair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered in response, running a hand through the boy’s brown hair soothingly. “It’s okay. You were manipulated, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I killed you!” He croaked. “I killed you and Padmé and almost killed Ahsoka and my own son and daughter on several occasions! I destroyed the Jedi Order and now the Galaxy are spending decades attempting to rebuild it! I kriffed up! Very badly! I’m a monster!”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan chided softly, continuing to play with his brother’s hair as he wept. “You were manipulated,” he repeated and the brunette sniffled, burying his face in his shoulder. Anakin clung to Obi-Wan like he might disappear, like he was his lifeline, like he was a dying man and Obi-Wan were his last moments of peace and joy.

“I’m so sorry,” the brunette repeated. He looked up to meet Obi-Wan’s swimming blue eyes with his own teary ones, storms of self-hatred and sorrow.

The sorrow-eyed boy and his brother with the light.

“We’ve all forgiven you,” the light-eyed man spoke softly, words of velvet, honey and silk. Words of warmth and gentle jubilation, intertwined with comfort and laced in solace.

“But have I forgiven myself?”

“You must learn to.” The sorrow-eyed boy looked to meet the light, searching for lies that could not be found. “We’ve all learned to for our own mistakes. Now you must too.”

“But the galaxy can not forgive me.”

“Maybe they won’t, but there is no hope for the possibility they will if you can not forgive yourself. That is the first step. The first step to the bigger and better future.”

hope you enjoyed!

dont forgot to request!

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi-wan #obi-wan kenobi #jedi #force ghosts #ahsoka #star wars prequels #sw #ka’ra writes ❤️

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impossibleprincess35 · 2 years ago

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Asphodel | ch 19

[Excerpt:]

Anakin lowered his head and the anger in him seemed to have dissipated, replaced with a genuine sadness. The young man looked broken, confused, and hollow. His usual bravado and boldness was replaced with insecurity and hesitation.

Obi-Wan took a few steps in his former padawan’s direction as he said quietly, “I’m sorry for the hurt that I caused you, but Anakin, I would implore you to consider the burdens that are upon my shoul-”

There was a scoff and then a remark under Anakin’s breath as he interrupted to muse sarcastically, “Burdens? What kind of burdens could the perfect Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi have?”

A heavy sigh washed over Obi-Wan as he appeared defeated in the moment. He took a deep breath and then blurted out passionately, “Only the ones caused by you and your padawan spreading gossip in the Temple that I have a son in Mandalore! Perhaps those burdens. Have you no shame? While I’m undercover, Satine’s nephew’s privacy is being violated as the Council looks into his parentage because your padawan lacked the discretion to keep her mouth shut!”

Anakin swallowed hard and closed his eyes in a moment of recognition. He had become so consumed with his thoughts about Obi-Wan’s death being a farce that he had purposely avoided handling the mess that was unfolding in the background. The rumors had seemed harmless at first, but his and Ahsoka’s careless jokes about Korkie Kryze’s parentage had spiraled out of their control.

“Do you know what kind of wrath I will face from Satine when she learns that not only am I alive, but that Korkie has been a topic of discussion in Coruscant?” Obi-Wan hollered, the veins in his neck throbbing as he spoke. “You have no idea what you’ve done! And yet, you come here and you accuse me of imaginary betrayals that exist only in your mind!”

“Obi-Wan, I didn’t realize,” Anakin muttered, hoping to downplay the impact of his and Ahsoka’s indiscretion.

Chapter 19 is up.

*singing Alice in Chains quietly to herself as she posts*

#asphodel #obitine #obi-wan x satine #fanfic

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tennessoui · 9 months ago

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hanahaki au chapter 6 snippet

“Anakin, if you insist on coming along, you will have to get used to the idea of getting your hands dirty,” Obi-Wan tells him from the ground, and Anakin looks down at him reluctantly. Despite the fact that his master’s health has never been lower, he still insists upon his post war routine, one that involves restoring a series of Upper Level community gardens that had—apparently—been damaged by debris from the Invisible Hand as it crashed into the city.

His master blinks up at him expectantly, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. The day cycle has already increased so exponentially in the hours that they have been here that he has stripped down to his under tunic. Sweat beads at the exposed hairs of his chest, which is moving with more difficulty than it should given the fairly light labor Obi-Wan has thrown himself into.

“You’d think you’d be tired of digging trenches,” Anakin says with an unfairly dry throat as he bends down at the knees to sit at his master’s side.

“Nonsense,” Obi-Wan tells him with a small, pleased smile. That’s another thing that Anakin has noticed in the last several weeks. Obi-Wan is freer with his emotions around Anakin than he has ever been before. Maybe he doesn’t think there’s a need to pretend to be the perfect Jedi master anymore, now that the war is over and Anakin is a Master of his own right. Maybe he’s just realized that there’s a day fast approaching when he will no longer be able to smile at Anakin again. Maybe he’s just exhausted, precious energy diverted to other tasks and none leftover to bite back and control his emotions.

“If anything,” he adds when Anakin accepts the trowel with his gloved hand, “I’d be tired of flowers.”

Anakin scowls immediately, heart flinching away and curling in on itself. “Don’t joke about that, Obi-Wan.”

His master at least has the decency to look a little shame-faced, but his regret does little to soothe the sharp knife of Anakin’s grief.

#hanahaki au #poll for the tumblrinas does anakin deserve to punch obi-wan in the throat #and does obi-wan deserve to be punched in the throat (by anakin)#/jk #theyre mutually idiotic with zero perception of the depth of each other's emotions

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jedimastre-archive · 2 years ago

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Obi-Wan had awoken to the sound of movement and low clattering in the other rooms, for a brief moment he forgot where he was and immediately rose to a sitting position. The blanket that had been placed upon him fell and only added to the confusion. Where was he? Blinking a few times, he rubbed his eyes and shook his head – forcing himself to some semblance of alertness before getting up and neatly folding the blanket. He remembered now, keenly so as the familiar scent of Amelia’s things filled the air and he accepted the inevitable confrontation between them. Not that it would be violent in any sense but he knew he had acted uncharacteristically.

Placing the blanket down, he stepped into the living space to find Amelia with her back to him – she was seemingly occupied doing something and he debated whether or not he should be here. But the thought soon disappeared when a sudden wave of shame crossed his vision and down his body. Opening and closing the door was surely to alert her to his presence as he cleared his throat and looked at her with a tired expression.

"I am new to this." Obi-Wan said plainly, his eyes bright in the low lighting of her apartment, even as he moved to sit heavily upon the chair at her table. He gingerly began unbuckling the fastenings to his armor, welcoming the physical distraction, he continued, "Talking about how I am feeling, how I am not sleeping, how meditation is starting to feel like a bandage over a bigger wound." The words spoken were almost in distaste but they were truthful. There was an odd sense of relief in them too, speaking them out loud. "How I am ignoring how this war is truly getting to me."

Punctuating it with his forearm armor falling to the floor in a loud thump. He knew Cody would reprimand him for treating it as such but at this moment he didn’t seem to care. The Jedi didn’t continue talking as he removed the hard collar at his neck and set aside his pauldron, the insignia marking him as a Jedi General almost glaring back at him. "I lied on my report, about what happened while I was gone."

ㅤㅤShe did not seek him out after that, even after they returned to Coruscant. Though she wanted to, she almost did once or twice even. But then she remembered the way she had spoken to her, jumped to conclusions and veiled threats, and thought better of it. Not that she was angry, she was no longer irritated with him either, leaving only the hurt behind. Perhaps she thought too much of him, and he too little of her. Then again, he had not been entirely himself, he’d come to his senses soon enough. Though perhaps more quickly if he wasn’t so stubborn.

ㅤㅤHer home was always open to him, whenever he needed it. It was an offer she meant, regardless of if she was upset with him or not. Still she was somewhat surprised to find him there, evidence of his presence clear even before she found him, sound asleep. Though his chosen place of rest was a little peculiar, it was hard to remain upset with him. So despite the fact he had not even asked, her forgiveness was all but earned now. Seeing that in the end he had sought her out, in one form or another.

ㅤㅤShe thought about waking him, moving him inside where he might be more comfortable. But decided against it seeing as to all the trouble that had gone into just getting him to this point, the last thing she wanted was to wake him. Instead she brought out a blanket, tenderly draping it over him, pausing to allow her fingers to gently brush along his cheek before going back inside, being careful to close the door quietly behind her.

ㅤㅤThough not before allowing Lav to slip outside, who had been waiting patiently for her to do so. At least one of them would be able to keep watch over their slumbering Jedi. She collected his discarded comm and lightsaber, setting them neatly on the small table by the door so they were out of harm’s way and easily collected when he decided to leave. Before setting about her normal routine.

#wornkindness #alt verse: clone wars feat. ( wornkindness. )

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aspentreewrites · 21 days ago

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and when all the flowers are rotten and all the cannons shot

Chapter 6

Pairings: Codywan

Tags/Warnings: (spoilers for this chapter!!) slow burn, pining, injuries and angst, force bond shenanigans, tending to wounds, AO3 rating is E for future chapters

Description:

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(or: an account of the relationship between one Marshal Commander and his General from in the midst of a war.)

Link to read on AO3 here!

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A/N: If you saw me misfire and post this draft 30 minutes ago no you didn't lmao. Sorry for the delay in posting this one - I got married last week!!!!??!! It still feels surreal lol. Thank you for bearing with me :) I hope you're all doing very well. Your comments have all been so kind, I'm always so very happy to read them.<3

Thanks as always to @whenyourfavouritedies for beta'ing this chapter!!!

Wordcount: 10.2k

Prev chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

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It first finds Cody in the early hours of the morning, just as he’s donning his armour in preparation for the final briefing before they touch down on Mekrun. It’s been a little over two weeks since his last deployment, and truth be told, he’s itching to get back into the fight.

He’s in a meditative state in his quarters as he slips on his bracers, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the mission ahead. He’s looking forward to being on the ground again, blaster in hand - it’s been a while since he and his General have been able to work together like that on the battlefield.

There’s nothing like that exhilaration, the feeling of being so entwined with another person that you may as well be one singular weapon, the movements of your bodies like a dance - always in sync, always in tandem.

It’s while Cody’s mulling over that thought, an absent smile tugging at his lips, when… something happens.

A small crack; a splintering at the back of his consciousness.

The pressure is small, gentle; breaking through to him like a baby bird hatching cautiously from an egg. Cody freezes, his body tensing at the foreign sensation.

It’s subtle - incredibly subtle. To any normal person’s mind, it might be something altogether ignorable.

Cody, trained from birth to zero in on any potential danger and neutralise it, is far from a ‘normal person’.

The Commander gets the instinctive, incredibly disorienting sense that he’s not quite alone.

His head whips around to face the door, desperately trying to figure out if an intruder has slipped into his room. Could that be the source…?

All the while, that sensation in his mind continues scratching, tapping, fracturing.

It’s not that it gets stronger as the seconds pass, but it feels like it’s settling - burrowing deeper. Cody doesn’t know how, exactly, he’s able to identify what it’s doing, it just feels… strangely intuitive.

His mind races, trying to pin down the threat.

Something is here. Something that shouldn’t be.

Cautiously, with a shaky intake of breath, he begins to probe at it - as much as one can probe at something that exists entirely within the brain, anyway - trying to get a sense of what this tiny, budding thing wants with him. His back finds the wall as his eyes continue to dart around, doing his best to keep himself steady.

Why does it feel warm?

Not uncomfortable warm, like the trickle of blood down the side of the temple after a hit to the head, or like being choked by fire in the middle of the battlefield. No, it feels more like… basking in an expected beam of sunlight after a storm, feeling those first rays kiss your skin.

It’s almost as if it’s alive, Cody thinks faintly, partially hoping that this is all just some dream, the result of a fever he didn’t know he had.

After the minute or two of analysis prove unfruitful, he pulls away from inspecting the sensation. The feeling of it at the back of his mind quickly returns to a light background hum at the corner of his consciousness, nearly unremarkable in how unobtrusive it is. Cody curses under his breath.

All he knows: this is far from normal.

He stays against the wall, unmoving and heart pounding, for what feels like an eternity before he pulls himself together enough to pull on his helmet.

He prods at it once more as he uncertainly ventures out into the hallway, each step weighing on him heavily. This… thing, certainly doesn’t feel hostile, but…

It might not want to hurt him, but it’s definitely, undoubtedly a concern.

Whatever it is might well pass, but Cody decides that he has enough time before his meeting with Obi-Wan this morning to make a quick drop in to see Helix anyway. If this is the result of some sickness, it would be better to deal with it now than in the middle of a firefight, if possible.

Helix is one of the best medics in the GAR - perhaps the best, by Cody’s estimate - and as such, he is exceedingly well versed in the art of giving bad news. There’s a particularly sympathetic type of expression that he makes that any seasoned member of the 212th could identify from a mile off - calm, neutral, expertly schooled to never look overly worried or condescending. The type of look that tells you that something’s probably wrong, but that it’s going to be dealt with as efficiently as possible.

… Which is why it’s of particular concern to Cody that right now, after he’s just patiently sat through a million scans, the man is making a face.

“What?” Cody asks stiffly, swinging his legs over the side of the medbay bed. Helix doesn’t immediately respond, instead continuing to gaze down at his datapad. His frown, unnervingly, deepens.

The nervous anticipation builds further in Cody with each second that ticks by in silence. The agony of it is almost comparable to a kick in the ribs from a varactyl - and Force knows he’s been on the wrong end of Boga enough times to know intimately what that feels like.

Helix lets out a grumble under his breath, and Cody swiftly revises his thoughts. No, actually: this experience is assuredly worse.

He knows he should wait until the medic has had time to look over the results properly, but he’s getting more and more restless by the moment. Cody can’t help but press again, beginning to get a little desperate for a response - any would do, at this point, even just a word or two.

“Is it the–” Cody hesitates briefly, unsure if he wants to give voice to this particular worry. “--Whatever that thing was that you found the other day? The… blip?”

Cody fidgets uneasily for a few more moments before Helix finally glances his way with a shake of his head. The Commander isn’t sure whether he should feel relieved or even more anxious at the blankness that’s overtaken the stoic medic’s features.

His nervous system decides for him, settling on a strange, gut twisting tension. “No,” he replies. “The anomaly we found on the scan the other day seems to be… unrelated.”

Right. That should be reassuring, Cody thinks. Somehow, it isn’t.

Putting his datapad down on his desk, Helix crosses the room in measured steps. He stops just short of Cody, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and then his facade falls. He… suddenly looks terribly concerned. Oh, Gods. Cody meets his gaze with what he’s sure is an equal amount of panic.

“Commander,” he begins, taking a moment to gather together his words.

Cody decides that he must be dying. There’s no other explanation for this, surely.

Ah, well, he thinks, dazed, as he waits for Helix to continue. Twelve years old. I’ve had a better run than most.

Still, Cody considers upon reflection, he’s always been of the opinion that he would die with a blaster in hand. The idea of some parasite in his brain taking him down is almost insulting.

Helix shifts, clearly uncomfortable with the verdict he’s going to have to dish out. “You might be in charge of the battalion, sir, but that doesn’t mean you’re invincible.” His voice is firm, bordering on reproachful, and Cody braces himself for impact. “Not from physical wounds, or…” he presses his lips into a thin line, “emotional ones.”

What?

“We’ve been built to be more mentally resistant than the average civilian, but post traumatic stress disorder can still–”

Cody chokes.

“I– Helix, that’s– it’s really not the problem,” he interrupts in a frantic stammer, wanting to be anywhere in the galaxy but here, having this conversation. Yes, he has the nightmares, they all do, but that has absolutely nothing to do with the situation at hand.

It becomes swiftly, humiliatingly clear that Helix isn’t convinced by his weak protest.

“I’m just saying, the scans all turned up clean,” he responds sympathetically - and now there’s that face that he’s so damned good at. The medic’s calm demeanour is usually a reassurance to Cody, but in this moment it’s quickly becoming an irritant. He’s highly aware that he’s not going to be believed no matter what he follows up with.

Cody frowns, craning his neck to try and get a look at the words written on the medic’s datapad over on his desk. “I’m not going insane,” he insists.

“I never said those words exactly,” Helix responds carefully, drawing the Commander’s attention back to him by moving to block his view. “But… a ‘cracking sensation’ in your mind..” he repeats with a raised brow, and Cody winces. It does sound bad out loud, admittedly.

Helix sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “I think you’re incredibly stressed, Commander,” he continues, “and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Anyone would be, with the responsibility you carry. But it means you need to go on medical leave, soon. After today’s mission.”

Absolutely not. Cody levels him with a scowl. It’s petulant of him, perhaps, but he knows he’s not going crazy - this is real. It probably won’t be fixed by resting this off. “We both know that’s not going to happen,” he returns.

Helix sets his jaw, holding his gaze in challenge. After a few tense seconds, he relents with a sigh, stepping aside and gesturing resignedly to the door. Cody feels his body relax, just a little, now that he’s allowed to leave. He hates feeling cornered, being spoken to like a child - though quietly, he’s grateful that the medic has enough gall to do it. It’s saved him before.

“I expected as much,” Helix mutters, moving back to his desk and fixing the Commander with a warning glare. “No, I can’t order it unless I have outright evidence that stress is absolutely the cause, but I’m sure the General will agree with my assessment when I send the report over - which, make no mistake, I will be doing first thing when we return this evening.”

Cody, unfortunately, has no doubt about that.

He slinks out of the medbay with his tail between his legs, mulling over Helix’s words of concern as he makes his way through the winding hallways of the ship towards the meeting room. Perhaps if he gets in before Obi-Wan, he can make them both some breakfast.

A result of stress… Cody’s expression darkens. Helix is incredible at what he does, but he’s categorically wrong in this case. He’s not losing his mind, he’s sure of it.

(It occurs to Cody, briefly, that most people who lose sanity believe themselves to be fully of sound mind throughout the process, but he quashes the treacherous thought as quickly as it rears its head. That might be true for other people, but not for him.)

And then there’s the secondary concern - that whatever it is, it’s apparently completely separate from the blip that had been detected on the scan a few weeks ago. So there are two undetected unidentifiable things running amok in his brain right this second. Lovely.

Perhaps, he thinks, he can get a second opinion from the Jedi. Surely Obi-Wan can… scan him, or something, using the Force - then he can figure out what the real cause is, and fix that from there. If it is a living thing like he’d guessed, then it should be easily detectable, right?

That’s a good idea, Cody affirms to himself. Obi-Wan is already inside, I can speak to him about this after we’ve gone over the initial plans. Cody pauses just outside the door to the meeting room, his hand hovering over the controls as he blinks rapidly.

He just thought that with a remarkable amount of confidence. It’s very early in the morning and the door is closed, why wouldn’t Cody be the first one in?

And yet, somehow, he’s certain. Obi-Wan is inside the room with two cups of caf, waiting for him to arrive. One of the cups, his mind tells him calmly, has sweetener in it.

That fact strikes Cody as odd.

Unusual, he protests internally, not entirely sure why this, specifically, is the sticking point for him amidst this rather unorthodox situation. Why sweetener?

Because, his mind supplies easily, we ran out of sugar reserves this morning.

Cody decides faintly that the possibility he’s lost his mind has just increased tenfold.

He shakes his head, trying to shake the strange thoughts that have been placed there by who-knows-what - there is still a meeting to be had, strange feeling or no. Cody presses his hand to the door controls with a confidence he doesn’t quite feel, and the door swooshes open smoothly ahead of him.

Inside, Obi-Wan stands, his brow furrowed as he looks over the rudimentary battle plans they’d prepared last night. He looks like he hasn’t slept all that much, which is a strangely comforting piece of normality within this very disorienting morning.

Cody’s eyes fall to the two mugs of caf that sit on the surface in front of him. A packet of opened sweetener sits on the counter nearby, fetched unhappily from the far back of one of the supply cupboards.

Ah.

For the first time in his military career, Cody doesn’t feel particularly smug about the fact that he was right about an impossible hunch.

Obi-Wan glances up from his work with a tired smile, oblivious to the war being waged in his Commander’s head. “Good morning, my friend. Shall we get started?”

Cody just about manages to nod and smile weakly in return. Later, he resolves. He can tell him about what’s going on in his head later.

For now, there’s a battle to plan.

_____________________________

As it turns out, ‘later’ may mean not today at all.

There have been far too many updates from the ground to consider, far too many new plans to be made for Cody to rationalise being able to bring up anything new and potentially worrying to Obi-Wan. The promise of ‘later’ quickly becomes ‘when we’re safely back on the Venator and have probably had some sleep’.

It also doesn’t hurt that Cody has spent most of the meeting fretting about Obi-Wan’s reaction and inevitable overblown concern, and as such is incredibly willing to put off the conversation for as long as possible.

It probably should feel more urgent, given the nature of it, but he decides that it can at least wait a few hours. They have lives to save on the ground, after all.

The Negotiator hangs stoically above the planet of Mekrun as they deliver the briefing to their men. It’ll be a hot landing - right in the centre of one of the biggest zones of the firefight - and the promise of action still sends a thrill through Cody, despite the worry this morning.

He was literally created and raised for this, and in these moments, Cody finds that he doesn’t care as much as he probably should. Something in his blood that flourishes under fire, he supposes, and he knows that most of the Vode share that same spark, the love of the adrenaline, right or wrong.

“We will be splitting into two teams,” Cody announces, looking out across the sea of 212th gold gathered before the two of them. There are a few shinies present, not quite having earned their paint stripes yet - a shipment from Kamino that arrived barely a week prior. Today will be an exciting start for them, he hopes - and it shouldn’t be too dangerous of an assignment, to boot.

Cody looks forward to seeing how they decorate themselves after today. Pride stirs in his chest as he sees the eagerness in their eyes, the evident excitement at becoming officially part of such a renowned battalion. He hopes to get to know them all properly tonight, safely returned and in good health.

Stepping forwards, he gestures to the hologram that’s rotating above the centre console in the room. It’s currently displaying a layout of the battlefield below, the layout of the local geography, and most importantly, the system’s Communications tower - the protection of which is the reason for their presence here today.

“Alpha team will accompany the General into the comms tower on the north side, in the hopes of intercepting and disabling the bombs being planted there. We’re not expecting many of the Separatists to be present, but the ones that will be are priority for takedown.”

He zooms out a little on the holomap.

“The rest of us will make up Bravo team, coming in to hit the droids on their flank here,” he says, pointing to the southern fields a few kilometres away from the tower. “With any luck, we can repel the ground forces before they’ll have a chance to call in too many reinforcements.”

“There’s already a squadron down there made up of the local guard,” Obi-Wan adds calmly, stroking a thoughtful hand over his beard. “Cody’s team will join them in their base, creating a distraction so that my team can - hopefully - slip in and out of the comms tower without drawing too much notice. This infrastructure is vital to both the civilians and Republic operations of this sector, so we must ensure it isn’t destroyed outright.”

He glances at Cody, giving a subtle nod for him to continue.

“The distraction will be conducted in a way to draw the enemy down to us in the southern quadrant,” the Commander explains, taking over smoothly. Delivering a strategy briefing clearly and efficiently is almost like an art in Cody’s mind, and he would like to think that he and Obi-Wan are exceedingly well practiced at it. “It’s the safest place to engage, away from both the tower and the living space of the engineers that work there. Once we see that they’re turning their attention to us, I will rendezvous with Alpha team and we’ll regroup from there.”

Adrenaline creeps through Cody’s veins, anticipation of the fight to come building within him. He powers down the holomap, his eyes drifting over his men one by one, seeing the same emotion stirring within each of them as they stand, that spark in their eyes unmissable.

“To recap, then,” he says evenly, folding his hands behind his back. “Alpha team, with Obi-Wan: stealthing into the tower, disarming the bombs, getting any civvies to safety. Bravo team, with me: get in fast, cause enough mayhem to draw as many troops as possible south. I’ll split to rendezvous with Alpha once my team is sufficiently set up, and we’ll progress with any impromptu plans then. Any questions?”

It takes less than 5 minutes for all queries to be sufficiently answered, and a further 10 for the 212th to be gathered at the dropships.

Exactly 20 minutes later, they’re planetside.

The familiar smell of smoke and burnt circuits fills the air as Cody disembarks from the ship, plasma flying through the air in all directions and a cacophony of violence filling his ears.

The excitement in his veins is, he imagines, as potent as any hit of spice.

Maybe Helix was right in that there’s something wrong with him, but being on enough battlefields throughout his life has Cody's mind strangely tangling up the feeling with the thought of ‘belonging’.

Perhaps it's a natural reaction. He's a clone; he has nowhere, he owns nothing - nothing but the fire and ash of war, the rifle placed in his hand, the brothers who he fights alongside.

… And the Jedi he was sworn to protect.

As the last of Bravo team exit the ship behind him, Cody makes sure to distance himself from that particular train of thought before it can do any damage. Now is not the time for such distractions.

“With me!” he calls, signalling for his men to follow as he makes a rush for the cover of a fallen tree.

Swiftly, Cody assesses the battlefield ahead from his current vantage point. The local guard here have put up a formidable defence considering their numbers, but this level of warfare is not something they’d been trained for. Now’s the time to free them of that burden.

The communications tower looms in the distance a few klicks northwest of their location. It stands a little ways up a cliff, overlooking a ravine below - all points for potential reinforcements to be stationed, if Obi-Wan’s team is particularly unlucky.

Cody knows he’ll need to bring out all of the stops to divert the clankers’ attention exclusively to the fight down here, but he’s got enough tricks up his sleeve that he’s not particularly worried. They have around seven minutes before Alpha team will be sneaking their way into the tower - that’s five more than Cody needs.

He allows himself a small smirk behind his helmet. Showtime.

Cockiness is not a trait of Cody’s that he likes having - it irritates him when he sees it excessively in his peers, and he is more than aware that giving himself over to it is a surefire way to get himself killed - but sometimes he can’t help himself. He’s damned good at what he does, and he knows it. On a mission like this, he can indulge himself a little.

With a practiced hand, he carefully removes an EMP from the pouch at his hip. He rolls it in his palm as he watches a large group of clankers in the field ahead marching towards the dugout base their allies are camped in. They’re likely preparing an ambush. Cody’s eyes narrow.

Not on his watch.

“Droid poppers at the ready, men,” he instructs quietly. “We rush the platoon on my signal.”

Behind him, he hears the squad prepare themselves, a series of quiet rustles as they draw out their grenades in unison.

“Hold…”

It’s as if Mekrun itself is holding its breath along with them - the moment of calm before the storm hits.

Cody lets out a slow breath to keep his movements steady, tilting his arm back as the droids gather together, ever closer… his eyes track the droids, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“Now!” he barks.

A volley of EMPs launch overhead, scattering amongst the feet of the enemy. The droids don’t even get the chance to panic before the poppers all go off in unison, pulses of electromagnetic energy causing the entire group to collapse in on themselves in a shower of sparks.

Cody launches out of cover alongside his men, picking off the clankers before they have time to reactivate.

“Keep moving! We don’t stop until the bastards are sending everything they’ve got to us!” he yells. “Get to the dugout, go!”

The battle, once they successfully gun their way down to the hastily made guard station, proves to be one of attrition.

Over the next hour, Bravo team make their stand, slowly but surely cutting down the waves of droids sent to their location.

It’s an odd thing to be relieved about facing down a group of destroyers, but when the droidekas come, Cody knows without question that they’ve drawn the worst of the horde away from the tower.

It quickly becomes a pattern - Cody leads a small group above ground, drawing the encroaching clankers nearer to the dugout. Once they’re close enough, the rest of the squad dash above ground to surround them and take advantage of their surprise.

It’s not the most elegant of battle plans, admittedly, but it works damned well. It seems the Seps here weren’t expecting any form of meaningful, planned resistance, and they’re paying the price for that now.

By the time Cody feels satisfied that the rest of his men can take care of themselves, they’ve started carving a tally to track their kill counts on an old wooden pallet inside the base. Cody is content enough with being in second - he’d be far out in first place if not for the combination of a conveniently clustered group of B1s and a particularly well aimed grenade by Wooley.

One of the shinies, a fairly diminutive sniper named Blackbird, is in dead last and not particularly pleased about it. They’ve been repeatedly warned of the consequences - the tragic fate of being the one to cover the first round back at 79’s when they make it home. As Cody prepares to head off to the rendezvous point, he hears another officer trying to bolster their spirits by promising that most of the boys will probably only order something cheap. It doesn’t seem to cheer them up much.

The Commander can’t quite stifle his chuckle, patting the kid on the shoulder as he passes.

“Rite of passage, rookie. You’ll manage. Just make sure you don’t fall in the field to get out of the punishment, yeah? Eyes sharp and watch your flank.”

The young clone nods, sitting a little straighter after the acknowledgement from Cody. “Y-yes sir.” they reply, offering a sharp salute. They haven’t yet managed to speak to him without stuttering, at least a little.

Over the years, Cody has become more than aware that he’s inspired a certain… mythos from the Vode back on Kamino. More often than not, any newly assigned troops have stars shining in their eyes during their first few weeks of deployment whenever they speak to him. Apparently Rex and a few of the 501st ARCs have had the same issue.

It’s flattering really, just… misplaced. He might be a decorated name, but off-duty they’re all equal. The last thing Cody wants is to make his brothers intimidated by him. It’s an uncomfortable notion.

Still, he offers a smile, giving Blackbird a short nod before he begins to jog away.

Once safely clear of the danger of the open field, Cody activates the comms at his wrist. “Alpha team, I’m heading for the rendezvous at the scheduled time. I believe our distraction has been successful, but the fight is ongoing. What’s your status?”

Only static and silence greets him in response. Cody frowns. He gives it a minute before he tries again.

“Alpha team, status report.”

Nothing.

Great.

It would be incredibly nice, Cody reflects as he picks up the pace with a groan, for things in the field to go as planned just once.

_____________________________

The rendezvous point isn’t far, thankfully, and a majority of Alpha team – currently headed by Waxer – are already there and waiting by the time Cody arrives.

They offer salutes as he approaches. Obi-Wan, for whatever reason, doesn’t seem to be with them.

“At ease,” Cody nods, a question in his gaze as he gestures for Waxer to go ahead.

“Commander,” the Lieutenant begins, clearing his throat before giving his report. “We disarmed the bombs successfully, but the Seps did a number to the tower during the fight. It’s fixable, but comms are gonna be out in the system until the engineers can get back to work.”

Cody had suspected as much, but it’s a relief to hear the tower hadn’t been damaged beyond repair. It’ll certainly make the imminent cleanup efforts much simpler.

“The General and a few others split off to sweep for more survivors,” Waxer continues, “but he shouldn’t be long. There were only a few members of the maintenance team missing by our count, and he said he sensed they were nearby.”

Cody relaxes a little at the news. It looks like they arrived quickly enough to prevent too many civilian casualties - an unfortunately rare circumstance as of late, so it’s not something he’ll take for granted. It’s looking so far like this will be an easy win for the Republic.

“Understood,” he replies. “Good work. Bravo team are holding strong at the southern quadrant. The distraction there has been successful, and with your team going to support them, we should be able to take out the remaining stragglers easily enough. The Seps are turning their attentions to–”

Cody freezes unexpectedly, his blood turning to ice. Nausea settles over him as his mind prickles with an altogether horrifying sense of knowing.

Obi-Wan is hurt.

Waxer blinks over at his suddenly-motionless Commander. “Uh…” He waits for a few moments in bewilderment, glancing back to the rest of his men before he clears his throat quietly. “... You were saying, sir?”

Obi-Wan is hurt. There’s not much time.

The strange sensation that Cody had tucked away at the back of his mind this morning rings out with alarm. It doesn’t feel like speculation, or a voice speaking from anxiety and fear - it feels like concrete, unmistakable fact.

Not much time? Cody thinks desperately in return, trying his best to communicate with the feeling. It doesn’t respond.

Oh, Stars, no.

For a long few seconds, all he can do is just stare at Waxer, dazed and disoriented as he tries to find his voice again.

“The–” his throat sticks. He tries again. “The General is– injured.” Cody stammers, his voice coming out weak.

His stomach churns with a sense of dread that won’t subside, and he momentarily forgets how to breathe. He catches himself reaching for his comm-link instinctively, before he remembers that there is absolutely no way he can get a message to his General right now, or in the immediate future, not with the tower damaged. Damn it all. “Where did he and his squad go when they split?”

Waxer shifts in surprise. “What? None of us can reach him sir, how did you–?”

Finally, Cody’s training kicks in and he manages to wrangle some sense of control from the haze. Some strange divine force is connecting him to his Jedi, and if it’s telling him the truth, then it might be enough to save Obi-Wan’s life. His prime directive above all else is to keep his Jedi safe, and he will move the stars themselves to do so if he has to. The feeling is disorienting and his fear is mounting, but he can cope with that. He has to act.

His gaze snaps back to Waxer, grasping his brother’s shoulder firmly. “Tell me where he went, Lieutenant,” he commands, hearing his words coming out much stronger than before, to his relief. “That’s an order.”

Waxer straightens up. “The north ridge, Commander, right by the chasm. But I don’t know if he took the road up to the cliff, or–”

No. He took the path to the ravine. He’s still there.

Cody’s mind is suddenly, sickeningly overtaken by images of his General laying face down in a stream, his blood seeping out into the water around him. Was it the presence in his head showing him that, or was it just the result of his own terror? Gods help him, he can’t tell.

“Understood,” Cody says, beginning to stride away.

He feels his stomach twist - he’s actually believing everything this damn voice is telling him. If it turns out that some parasite or Separatist chip has infected him, he might be walking right into a trap… but Cody knows that he can’t afford to take that risk. Not when so much might be at stake.

He begins to run, barking orders over his shoulder. “I have flares. Prepare a med-evac to sweep over the ravine if I don’t signal in the next thirty minutes. Until then, the team at the south field needs backup - I’m counting on you, Lieutenant!”

The run turns into a sprint, spurred on by the alarm bells inside him screaming at him to move, move, move.

“Sir–!” Waxer calls after him. “The weather– there might be a flood incoming, are you sure you want to–?”

The Commander pays the warning no mind. A sudden flood in the ravine might well be both possible and deadly, but as long as there’s a chance that Obi-Wan’s down there, his job is to drag him out before then. He can’t afford to waste a second.

If you’re lying, I’ll make you regret it, he thinks pointedly to the voice in his head, on the off chance that this is some malicious, external force peering into his mind. Once again, Cody’s attempts at communication go unacknowledged. He’s strangely glad of it - at this point, he’s fairly sure that having it respond would make him feel worse. The threat serves to make him feel marginally better, at least.

As the path down to the ravine comes into view, Cody feels his chest tighten, sending a silent prayer out to any god that will listen that he makes it on time.

Just hang on. I’m coming.

_____________________________

The ground beneath Cody’s feet changes from mud, to pebbles, to the splash of shallow water as he makes it to the base of the chasm.

Please be nearby, Cody thinks desperately as he searches, the strange sensation in his head giving way to an intuition about the directions he needs to take. He doesn’t like the feeling of trusting it blindly, but he doesn’t have much choice. Please be alive.

Further in, it whispers to him, faster.

Cody doesn’t think he’s ever run so fast in his life, but he spurs himself on even so.

The water is fast-flowing but still mercifully shallow, though Cody doesn’t want to imagine just how quickly that could change with the threatening rainclouds that have started to gather overhead. Waxer might have been right in his warning, but it’s far too late for worrying about that now.

He skids down a small slope, taking himself ever lower into the winding chasm. His heart pounds wildly against his ribs as he spots a body near the bend ahead, a flash of gold and white armour, unmoving. The sound of blaster fire has been steadily getting closer with each footstep.

Fuck.

Sprinting around the curve in the rock, Cody’s worst fear is confirmed.

Ahead of him, the ravine widens, the cliffs on either side rising imposingly, impassive observers to the carnage happening within.

The group of his brothers that had splintered from Alpha team are dead. Their bodies are scattered, cast aside as they wait for the rain to wash their corpses into the lake downstream.

A collection of droids and a group of people - mercenaries? - clad in dark gear are engaged in a shootout with one another within the canyon. This would ordinarily be enough to stop Cody in his tracks - they hadn’t been informed of another faction’s presence here, and he doesn’t know where their allegiances lie - but right now, he doesn’t have the time to try and work out what’s happening or why.

Instead, his gaze is glued to the body being dragged further through the chasm by the hands of one of the mercenaries - the body clad in a thick brown cloak that’s enveloping lighter, fawn coloured robes; the body that’s currently slowly bleeding out from a gash in its side; the body of the man he loves.

Cody doesn’t stop to observe further.

He’s - recklessly, certainly, but he can’t just sit and just wait - storming out into the open in seconds, beelining straight for the man pulling Obi-Wan along behind him like some prized prey from a hunt.

His blaster is raised, and they’re not expecting him - one clean shot to the back of the head is all it takes.

A snarl rips itself from Cody’s throat as the mercenary tumbles forwards to the ground, dropping Obi-Wan’s body unceremoniously into the shallow stream - by some mercy landing on his back, and not face down into the water.

The attention of the surrounding hostiles are all now very decidedly on Cody as he continues to sprint ahead.

It’s an open space with no cover, and Obi-Wan’s body is in the centre of it all. He can’t exactly fight back with his blaster, so he does the only thing he can reasonably think of to do in the time allotted to him.

Reaching his Jedi’s side, he swiftly reaches down to unclip the lightsaber that - miraculously - had remained at his belt throughout whatever fight he’d faced earlier.

Cody presses his thumb firmly into the activator as he plants his feet over the body of his fallen General, sparing only a quick glance downwards to the pallid face of the Jedi beneath him. He doesn’t have the time to check his pulse or breathing now, not while they’re surrounded by enemies. Please, please be alive.

The hum of the saber and the gentle vibration that buzzes through the hilt is a steadying force as blaster bolts continue to fly around him in all directions. He’d love to have the luxury of stopping to ask questions, but it doesn’t seem as if he’s going to get the chance before he or everyone else here lies dead.

One afternoon, long ago, Obi-Wan had shown him the basics of Soresu - Cody hopes that he remembers enough to make it through this.

His addition to the fray certainly seems to have confused both factions. The droids enter into a panic, shooting at anything that moves, including their own numbers. Most of the mercenaries stand their ground, though a handful decide that it would be in their better interest to abandon their quarry (and presumably, their paycheck) and retreat further into the ravine.

They wanted to take Obi-Wan’s body. Why?

Cody stays above the Jedi, pivoting on the spot to parry incoming bolts back to their senders. Without the use of the Force to aid him in intuiting where the shots are coming from, he can only try his best amidst the chaos. Every shower of sparks or yelp of pain from a returned bolt that connects is a victory, buying himself a few more precious seconds before the next projectile comes his way.

Cody can barely find the ability to think, let alone to form a cohesive plan. All of his thoughts are concentrated on surviving second to second until he can safely reach the flare gun at his hip.

He brings down the lightsaber in an arc to slice through the shoulder of a mercenary that had unwisely decided to chance running his way, before twisting around his body to block an incoming bolt from the right. His joints aren’t loose enough for this type of thing, he thinks with a grimace. It suddenly makes sense to him why Obi-Wan insists on warming up each day with dancer-like stretches and movements before he trains - all of these acrobatics are hell on the hips.

Keeping the saber in front of him swinging rapidly, Cody does his best to estimate a count of the enemies that remain. The two groups around him are carving through one another at such a rate that hopefully this won’t last too much longer.

A splash of water drips from the visor of his helmet, followed by another, then another. If Cody’s body could tense further, it would.

The drizzle of rain would be welcomingly cooling if it weren’t for the threat the worsening weather represents. He’s all too aware that all of his efforts would be for nothing if they both drown down here.

Centering himself as best as he can, Cody remains steadfast. Fighting so desperately as the heavens open above him - a part of him is reminded of Kamino, of his training. The headspace is a welcome one to slip into, and he allows himself to draw focus from it. This is no different to then, he tells himself. I survived every day back then, I’ll survive now.

A volley of shots come his way, and he spins the lightsaber around himself in an approximation of a move he’s seen from Obi-Wan in the past to deflect them. It proves mostly effective, but one bolt nearly finds its mark, tearing a scorch mark through his right pauldron.

The shootout intensifies for a few unsettling seconds, and then, to Cody’s unease, all falls unnaturally still.

He doesn’t waste the opportunity, surging forwards in a hope to cut down the last of the droids, but before he can reach it, it crumples in on itself, crushed by… nothing. Before Cody has time to react, the last two mercenaries fall to their knees, their faces turned to the cliffs above, one uttering a hoarse cry of the word “Master!”

There’s a chuckle from somewhere high above him, and Cody tears his eyes from the men, risking the glance upwards.

Something is very, very wrong.

A cloaked figure stands on an outcropping, watching him as a wild predator watches its prey.

Cody grits his teeth, raising the lightsaber a little higher.

“So, Kenobi has found himself a little pet, has he?” the figure calls down to him, sounding sickeningly amused. Their head turns toward the mercenaries. “You… have failed me. Run, and be grateful for your lives.”

His voice, gravelly and low, echoes through the ravine, and Cody becomes incredibly aware as the mercenaries scramble to escape that it is now only him, the Jedi on the ground, and this stranger. Alone for miles in any direction.

The figure - a man, by the sounds of his voice - leaps down into the ravine proper. It’s a drop that would kill anyone else, or at the very least break some bones - this person, however, lands with a feline-like grace.

He must be a Force user then, Cody concludes, his eyes never leaving the threat and his feet remaining rooted to the ground over the Jedi.

It is, unquestionably, his duty to keep his General safe. If Obi-Wan lives, then Cody will drag him out of here or die trying, but if – the thought almost causes his heart to rip apart here and now - if Obi-Wan is dead, then he will protect his body to the last. No one else will touch him, not while Cody still draws breath.

“Come now, clone,” the stranger rasps. He sounds winded - potentially injured from an earlier fight, Cody notes. He’ll take any advantage he can get, right now. The man lifts his hood to reveal himself as a Zabrak, distinctive red and black markings carving up the sections of his face into sharp, jagged portions. A striking visage - Cody’s never seen anything like it. “Surely you don’t wish to throw away your life to protect a dead man’s honour. Hand him over.”

Cody focuses on the weight of the saber’s hilt in his hand, taking a deep breath and easing his white-knuckle grip as much as he can. Obi-Wan had told him once that you need to treat a lightsaber like a dancing partner, not like a tool.

Work with it, and trust that it will work with you, he hears his words echo in his mind. It shouldn’t be swung like you would a simple club, or an axe.

He is tense, alert, but in this moment, he is not scared. He is Commander Cody of the 212th Battalion. He has never faltered in the face of death, and he faces it down with the same steadiness now, dogged and unflinching. If this man truly is a Force user - a Sith - then let the stories of this final stand be sung by his brothers into eternity.

Cody holds the Zabrak’s unblinking gaze. “If you want him,” he says, trying to channel that effortlessly calm, firm tone that his Jedi flaunts in the worst of situations, “then I’m afraid you’ll have to go through me.”

The Sith’s lip curls up in a cruel sneer, all pretense of composure discarded in an instant. “Your blind loyalty to the one who holds your leash is touching,” he spits, venomously. “But in the end, it won’t save either of you.”

He reaches into his cloak, drawing his own lightsaber and activating it, crimson red and double-bladed.

Cody’s eyes widen in horror and recognition, a cold shiver creeping up his spine. That blade… he knows exactly who this is.

With the knowledge of his name comes the knowledge that his chances of seeing tomorrow are slim, but Cody feels his resolve only grow in the face of it. Knowing that this is the bastard who has made it his mission to hound and torture Obi-Wan over the course of his life, he’s even more determined to keep him away from his Jedi at all costs.

“Maul,” Cody states, his voice low. The Sith begins to stalk around Cody in a slow circle, a viper waiting to strike. Cody leans a little further back on his left foot as he turns in place to meet him, the lesson on Soresu lingering at the back of his mind.

Maul smiles at Cody’s recognition. “It’s so nice to hear that he still talks of me, even after all this time.”

All hell breaks loose.

Cody narrowly avoids being struck as Maul launches forwards with an unnatural speed. He brings up Obi-Wan’s lightsaber to block at the last second, the force of the clash reverberating through his arm, up into his shoulder with a stinging pain.

Relax the muscles, he remembers Obi-Wan telling him as he corrected his form, fighting while tense will only harm you.

As the Zabrak darts over to the other side of him, Cody acts, striking him with the back of the lightsaber hilt. He leaps backwards in a desperate attempt to gain a few seconds of freedom, using them to pull out the flare gun and fire into the air.

Maul snarls, pressing the attack once more. Cody throws the gun to the side, redoubling his efforts on blocking and redirecting hits. If Waxer saw the flare go up - and Force, he hopes he did - all he needs to do is survive for a few more minutes.

… A few more minutes against the man that killed Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn in less than five when fighting one on one. A bead of sweat trickles down Cody’s temple.

Easy.

He grunts as Maul lands a kick to his abdomen, stumbling back a few steps but being sure to maintain his grip on the lightsaber. Being disarmed here would be a remarkably quick way to die.

They trade blows back and forth, Cody focusing on the defensive, Maul pushing in every chance he gets. It’s an exhausting effort, and he’s sure his panting is audible through his helmet, but he’s still on his feet, scrapping for every inch he can take.

Commander Cody, as he has done in so many battles before today, holds the line.

Each second he stalls is another second won of analysis; learning how Maul moves, the speed at which he’s about to rush in and attack, the patterns he’s about to swing his saber in - and then Cody sees it.

His left side.

He’s favouring his left side.

Each of his attacks are weighted, so his right arm must be damaged. If Cody can exploit that–

He grunts as he wards off a particularly strong slash to his side.

– then he might stand a chance of survival.

Cody draws back, loath to move too far from Obi-Wan’s unconscious form, but knowing that he has to risk it in order to press this advantage. Shielding, he reminds himself. He has to shield, or else Maul will be able to anticipate what he’s about to do.

The Sith smirks, his expression near manic in his relentless pursuit. “Scared, little clone?” he taunts, watching in clear sadistic amusement as Cody retreats a few more steps.

Cody subtly adjusts his stance, as if he’s going to continue to block. He raises his chin in defiance, his eyes narrowing. It’s what Maul will expect to see.

“No.”

Maul smiles. “The tremor in your voice betrays you.”

Time seems to slow as the Zabrak charges, his blade raised overhead to strike.

Cody plants his feet, feigning a block before darting to the right at the very last second and bringing Obi-Wan’s blade down to catch the top of his shoulder.

It doesn’t go deep, but the damage is done. Maul hisses in pain, backing up rapidly as his right arm hangs limply by his side. Cody doesn’t dare let his guard down yet, repositioning himself in front of Obi-Wan.

Maul snarls, his eyes flashing with anger. “You dare–”

Just as he begins to speak, thunder rolls in the distance. The threat of a sudden flood looms heavily over the both of them on this impromptu battlefield, and Cody lets out a shuddering breath. It’s bad news, but all the same, it might be the best news possible for him.

He sees the moment the truth dawns on the Sith - by staying here, they’re both risking certain death by drowning - a ravine this narrow and deep would fill with water in seconds. Even if Maul wasted time killing Cody here - and he could, even when injured, no doubt - he couldn’t drag away Obi-Wan’s body as he had his lackeys trying to do earlier, not with his injured arm.

For whatever reason, his motive was to take the Jedi’s body along with him, and now there’s not enough time.

Either all three of them die here and now, or Maul gets the chance to escape before their med-evac arrives.

Cody keeps the saber raised, even as the Sith takes another step back, evidently considering his options. His expression turns unnervingly blank as his eyes alight on Cody once more. There’s something more in his gaze now, something that wasn’t there before - recognition? Respect?

“Clever boy,” he murmurs, dipping his head. He deactivates his lightsaber, holstering it at his side and clutching at his injured arm with a grimace. “You’ve forced my hand. Very well.”

Cody watches as Maul begins his retreat further into the canyon, the hand gripping Obi-Wan’s lightsaber beginning to tremble with the receding adrenaline.

“The next time we meet, you will not have the privilege of hiding behind your owner’s weapon,” Maul snarls, his voice echoing through the canyon with that one last lingering threat before he disappears from view entirely. It’s true, Cody knows. He has a target on his back now, the size of a planet - and he’s sure it will be collected on.

For one long, long moment, the Commander simply stands, panting for breath, not quite sure if this is all a stress induced hallucination, or whether he actually survived the encounter.

The rain, though still light, has been getting progressively worse. It collects at the base of his visor, creating small waterfalls that dance in the periphery of his vision. Briefly, Cody allows himself to close his eyes.

He’s pulled out of his dizzying sense of disbelief by the sound of a soft groan below him.

Alive.

Cody’s eyes snap open.

A strangled gasp escapes him as he falls to his knees, pulling off his helmet and letting it clatter to the rocks below, scratches be damned, as he sees the Jedi’s breath stutter - not a sign he’s doing well, of course, but there is breath to be had.

The sheer relief at seeing Obi-Wan alive, the lingering adrenaline from the duel and the sheer shock that his own heart’s still beating all combine to make a dizzying amalgam of uninhibited recklessness.

He cradles Obi-Wan’s face in his hands, lowering his forehead to press to the other man’s. One of his hands slips to curl at the nape of his neck, and his heart pounds as Obi-Wan weakly reaches up to do the same.

If any of their men could see them now, sharing a keldabe kiss in the middle of the battlefield, they’d never hear the end of it. Cody is very aware that he should be reprimanding himself for this lapse in judgement, should be pulling away to a respectful distance, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

He’s still breathing heavily, and he’s fairly sure that holding Obi-Wan this close means they’re both bleeding onto one another. He doesn’t quite have it in him to care.

“I’ve got you, General,” he manages to choke out, his fingers curling tighter in the Jedi’s hair, afraid that he’ll disappear if he lets go for even a second.

Obi-Wan smiles - Stars, he’s so glad to see that smile - “Quite… the display there, Commander,” he rasps, his tongue darting out to wet his cracked and bloodied lips. Cody swallows. How long had the other man been out here before he arrived, fighting for his life? His free hand slips down to apply some pressure to the wound at his side, trying his best to stem the bleeding.

Cody feels nauseous with the weight of his worry, and he knows Obi-Wan will be able to sense it. Still, he can’t quite bring himself to give voice to it, instead trying to smile. To his credit, he manages, even if it’s considerably watery. “Ah, I was… trying to impress you. Angling for a promotion, you know.”

He draws back to raise his head as he hears the distinctive whirr of a LAAT/i approaching, and feels some of the tension drain from him. Not long now. He carefully shifts Obi-Wan, pulling him away from the stream and into his lap, hoping to alleviate some of the discomfort the other man is so clearly in. Obi-Wan lets out a breath that sounds more like a wheeze than anything else.

“I believe… the only position you could be promoted to would be mine, Cody,” he comments. He sounds incredibly weary, and his eyes fall shut with the effort of his words.

“Never let it be said that my ambition is held back by common sense,” Cody jokes softly. He gently brushes a few strands of hair away from his Jedi’s face, his gloved fingers lingering at his temple. Obi-Wan’s brows are pinched together, clearly in terrible pain. Cody can almost see the way he’s slipping, losing his grip on his consciousness.

“Hey. Stay with me,” he implores, his chest tight.

It’ll only be a minute or so at most before the medical evac will arrive, but Cody is incredibly aware that he can’t let the Jedi fall asleep before then. He racks his brain frantically for anything he can say to hold Obi-Wan’s attention, to give him any reason to keep talking.

“Shit,” Cody mutters under his breath, “Obi-Wan, you–”

“I’m trying,” the Jedi mumbles softly, and Cody’s plea dies on his lips.

Instead, he just clings to him a little tighter. “... I know.”

For a moment there is silence, pierced only by the rushing of the stream beneath them and the uneven, laboured breaths of Obi-Wan. The Commander watches him, swallowing thickly before he speaks. Hopefully this will be enough.

“My name… it’s not actually Cody,” he says.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicker open at that, hazy and bewildered, and Cody can’t stop a fondness from entering his expression, despite his concern. A temporary victory. Now to keep it going. “Thought that’d get your attention.”

“It’s not…?”

Cody shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his General. The fingers at his temple have long since shifted to tenderly stroking through the wet strands of his hair.

“Well, it is now, I suppose. But it wasn’t initially.”

Obi-Wan looks like he doesn’t have the strength to keep speaking, but there’s curiosity in his gaze. Cody blinks away the sudden stinging of tears that have gathered at the corners of his eyes.

Just stay with me for a few more moments, please. You’re nearly there.

“Kamino,” he forces himself to say, even as the words come out hoarse. “During training. My brothers had decided to name me, after I....”

Cody trails off, deciding that now is not the time to detail the abuses he had (quite stupidly) decided to take the brunt of to take some heat away from the rest of the Vode. Obi-Wan doesn’t need distressing further, today.

“... Well. Kote,” he continues. “They named me Kote. Except, over the years, most people misheard it, and… well, Cody was the one that stuck.”

Obi-Wan blinks slowly, clearly at war with himself to keep himself conscious. Cody is unsure that the other man has even heard him, let alone taken in his words, but after a long pause, the Jedi gathers himself to speak again.

“‘Glory’,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. “Isn’t it?”

A tear escapes down Cody’s cheek as the evac ship finally comes into view above them, lowering into the chasm. Half dead and the man is focusing his energy on accurately translating a fairly archaic word in Mando’a. That’s his Obi-Wan.

“Yes,” he affirms, his tone hushed. “That’s right.”

The Jedi smiles, finally losing his internal battle as his eyelids flutter closed once more. “You wear it well.”

Sudden shouts erupt from behind them as the LAAT/i lands and the medics start to rush their way over to them.

Cody sucks in a shuddering breath. Obi-Wan will make it. He will.

He reaches for his discarded helmet, slipping it back onto his head. With a grunt of effort, Cody lifts the Jedi up into his arms, turning towards the ship.

“I’ve got him,” he insists to the already-fussing medic as they approach. They reach out to try and take Obi-Wan from him, but Cody adjusts to hold the Jedi tighter, slipping past them.

“I’ve got him,” Cody repeats, his tone probably harsher than it needs to be. He’ll apologise for it later, but for the moment he’s just relieved that they back off.

No one else tries to bother him as he takes a seat on the gunship, holding Obi-Wan securely across his lap. Bacta first, then rest, he thinks wearily.

Somehow, though, he doubts he’ll get much rest in the near future. The weight of the other man in his lap is a reminder of everything he has to lose, and Cody knows himself well enough to be sure that he won’t be doing much more than pacing until his General is conscious and back with him.

A matter of hours, if he’s lucky. Days, if he’s not.

A deep sigh escapes him as the ship takes off and someone comes over with a scanner to check their vitals.

At least he’s alive. At least they’re both alive, somehow. Cody’s still not entirely sure how he managed it, but he’s incredibly grateful.

He thinks of the squad that will be still on the ground, fighting to take out the last of the Separatist forces. He has confidence enough in Waxer to know that they’ll be doing fine on their own, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel uneasy at being pulled out of the fight like this.

Outside, the rain worsens, battering against the side of the ship as it continues to ascend. Cody glances down, taking in the states of the ravine he was fighting for his life in mere moments before. The water is filling up in there rapidly, the speed of it already something terrifying to behold.

Cody really, really hopes that Maul didn’t make it.

He knows that he probably did.

_____________________________

Back on the Venator, Cody stands in only his underclothes, a handful of bacta patches plastered over his arms and his back as he stares absently at the bacta tank in front of him. His Jedi floats inside, having been immersed practically upon arrival, his eyes closed and his expression oddly peaceful, given the circumstances.

The lance in his side will likely be a permanent one, but better a scar than a cause of death.

Helix had left the two of them alone ten minutes ago, charging Cody with calling him if Obi-Wan’s condition suddenly changes, though Cody suspects that the request was only made to keep him inside the medbay and not disappearing off to his room to treat his pain alone, as he has in the past. Even knowing that, it’s working.

Cody doesn’t want to leave Obi-Wan’s side, not yet.

He begins to pace slowly, his exhausted mind overflowing with everything he needs to tell the Jedi of when he wakes. The mission status, Maul, and…

Cody pauses in his steps briefly, pinching his brow. And whatever is going on inside his head.

Whatever the meaning of the feeling, Cody has at least worked out one thing: it seems to be wholly and inextricably tied to Obi-Wan. It lies dormant now, having retreated into the back of his mind at the same time that the Jedi had lost consciousness, but it’s unmistakably still present. Steady, warm - not unlike Obi-Wan himself, he supposes.

It was telling him the truth. That’s the main thing he can’t quite wrap his head around, and in the past hour or so, he’s done nothing but try.

“What’s happening to me?” he whispers aloud to no one in particular. He’s not generally one for angst, nor for lamenting over situations in which he has no control. Something about all of this, though - it feels significant, important for him to understand, though he doesn’t know why.

He doesn’t know a lot of things today, it seems.

Cody takes a seat on the edge of one of the medbay beds with a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair.

He’ll wait here, he decides, until duty calls him away, or until Obi-Wan wakes up - whichever comes first. The quiet yet incessant beeping of various medical equipment isn’t exactly conducive to his ideal working environments, but he’s completed paperwork in worse places.

He types out a quick message on his datapad, a request for a mug of caf to be brought to him, along with a blanket. Cody hesitates, glancing over to where Obi-Wan is still healing, then adds an amendment. A double shot, he thinks, would be more sufficient.

Despite his exhaustion, it’s still only the early afternoon.

The Commander sighs again, opening up a few tabs worth of backlogged reports to start reading through.

It’s going to be a very long day.

✷✷✷✷✷

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