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siennahrobek · 3 years ago

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Warning - This is long

Chapter 11 – Saudade

Future Past

18 BBY

Luke is One year old

“Well, this is it. This is now my life,” Obi-Wan said, standing in the middle of his little hut, in the middle of the desert. There was nothing here, just sand and rock and bones. It would have been nice, a quiet place to meditate, if there wasn’t the looming threat of the empire, or the grief of losing the entirety of his people or the oppressive twin suns of the planet.

Perhaps if he left now, he could catch up with the resident herd of banthas. The nomadic life sounded fairly appealing at the moment.

“You know, when I said I wanted to just spend some time meditating in a cave, this is not what I meant,” he pointed out to the air. He wasn’t actually talking to anyone, he didn’t think anyone had even been listening. After all, he really was by himself.

“I’d say it is nicer than a cave.”

Until now, Obi-Wan’s old master didn’t really make casual conversation so his appearance, or rather, voice coming from thin air was a bit on the unexpected side. Their talks were mostly of the teaching variety.

He wondered what changed.

Perhaps it was him.

Maybe he was going crazy, and Master Jinn had to do something rather desperate so Obi-Wan wouldn’t lost his mind completely. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“I think I need a hobby,” the new hermit said with a nod. Yes, that seemed right.

“Do you really think you are going insane?”

Obi-Wan scowled, glancing around as if the speaking person would appear. Qui-Gon didn’t really appear, at least not in a way that Obi-Wan could see. He just heard his voice, clear as day. Or rather, clear as crystal or water or clear things. He didn’t know. Sometimes it felt hard to think. “Don’t read my mind,” he grumbled.

“I am apparition of the Force,” the voice was flat and steady, nearly laced intricately with sarcasm. Of course. “I couldn’t read minds when I was alive, what makes you think I can do it dead?”

The physically living master huffed, loud and dramatic, waving his arms as if that would make his point. “I don’t know what ghosts can do!” he nearly shouted. It wasn’t like anyone else could hear him. Even the closest person was many, many miles away.

Obi-Wan could almost hear his former master roll his eyes and feel his sarcasm and mock distain rise. “I’m not reading your mind. I can’t do that. I just know you.”

“I have changed a lot in the past fifteen years,” he shot out.

“Not as much as you think,” Qui-Gon hummed, a bit vaguely amused. His voice had quieted, softened but it still, as always, seemed so confident, so sure of himself. Obi-Wan wondered if he naturally had that type of pride and ego or if he had gotten it somewhere. Obi-Wan could probably use some of that, he mused as Qui-Gon continued to speak. “At your core, you are still the same. A jedi. Stubborn, protective, determined, persistent, good, kind, selfless. Just as you were as a padawan.” By the end of the list, Qui-Gon had almost, perhaps, sounded a bit even fond. Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure if he was a good judge of what it was.

“You did not see me that way.” The words were coming out when his brain had not given permission. It hardly mattered. Talking with ghosts.

“Now look who thinks he can read minds,” Qui-Gon contemplated, unperturbed and not so offended. He sounded a bit amused, like this was so ironic. He could find humor in anything, apparently, a skill Obi-Wan thought he once had. “I was very proud of you. I am still, exceedingly, proud of you.”

“Now I know I’m hallucinating,” he scoffed.

“Is it so hard to believe, of my pride? In you of all people?”

Yes, Obi-Wan thought. Of course, it is. How can anyone be proud of what he had done, of what had happened, what he had let happen? “You told me to train the boy,” he said, his voice strained and uneasy. He shook his head and fought back tears that threatened to leap forth from his eyes. “And look how that turned out? I did, I tried, I loved him. And now all the jedi are dead. The Sith have won and the galaxy has been left in oppressing darkness.”

There was a brief silence, a contemplation of words. “That is not your fault, Obi-Wan. You are not the one to blame. His choices were his own.” Qui-Gon’s voice was kind and soft, and Obi-Wan could just barely remember the few times, even early in his apprenticeship where Qui-Gon hadn’t been completely upset and regretful with him where he used that tone. When Obi-wan had a vision, or a dream, as Qui-Gon liked to call him. When Obi-Wan was scared and there was no immediate danger to Qui-Gon’s other loved ones. The beginning of their relationship had been more than just a little rocky but that just meant their bond had grown strong through those trials. It had taken long, and it had taken work, but eventually, they made it. And they had been amazing.

“I loved him,” Obi-Wan groaned. “I did not see what he had become.”

“No one had,” Qui-Gon replied, his voice lowering. “You did so well, Obi-Wan. You tried so hard. Better than I. You praised him when called for and treated him as a person, not just a vessel for a prophecy of old. You are not perfect, padawan mine, no one is. But this is not your fault.”

“I do not know why he did it,” Obi-Wan confessed, shaking his head at the truth. He didn’t know and he wondered why every day. Was his love not enough? “I continue to be blind when it comes to him.”

“The dark ide obscures so much, even of which is nearest to us,” Qui-Gon continued, in that teaching voice where Obi-Wan understood and didn’t understand at all. It was an odd thing to miss, he knew, but he did, all the same. “How can one see when something so beyond your control blocks it so thoroughly?”

The younger and not so dead master buried his face in his hands. “It is all gone now.”

“You aren’t. Hope isn’t.”

“Luke is alive,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Leia is alive. They…they are…”

“Hope,” Qui-Gon finished. “Not just for the galaxy either. They are hope for you.”

11 BBY

Luke is eight/nine years old

“Ben?”

He was sleeping on the floor again, Luke thought to himself as he padded out of his room and into the main part of the ship. The boy wasn’t entirely sure why. There was plenty of room with him in the little area Ben had designated for him. For Luke. He had his own room back on Tatooine with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru and it had been a lot bigger than this, but he didn’t mind. He found the smaller areas kind of cozy actually.

He had not slept well since Ben had come to take him away, after Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru went cold. At first, he had even tried to stay up, like Ben. But Ben must have some kind of superpower or something because no matter what he did, Luke could not stay up. He could not stay awake. Nightmares often plagued his sleeping times. And hyperspace was cold.

Ben looked up, his bleary gaze softening upon spotting Luke, and he moved himself into a seated position. “Are you alright?”

The child hugged himself, wrapping his arms around his torso in some kind of substitute for Ben’s cloak. He didn’t really want to admit to bad dreams. Surely almost being nine, was an age where he could deal with them. He shouldn’t be scared.

Ben, of course, knew anyways.

It was so wizard, the way he just knew things. Biggs was probably right; he must actuallybe a wizard.

“Nightmares?” Ben mused when Luke didn’t answer. “Dreams pass in time.”

Luke just nodded even though he didn’t really understand.

“But, I suppose, that is not so comforting in the moment, is it?” he hummed and stood up, his joints making gross cracking noises as he did. “Come, I will make you some tea. I have a blend that might help.”

Luke perked but tried to temper his excitement and interest. It had only been a week since Ben introduced him to the wonder and ability of tea. It’s warmth and ability to fight the cold of hyperspace. A week since Luke declared he wanted to try all of them.

It was a start.

The tea Ben gave him tasted different than the first one. Physically even warmer, something more soothing. It was calming and it felt like his heart and head were slowing down. It was not long until his eyes started to droop. And then, suddenly, it was like sleep felt like a good idea. He didn’t fear it as much or the nightmares.

He trusted Ben.

And if Ben said the tea would help, Luke would believe him.

Ben didn’t lie to him.

Afterwards, he led Luke back to his bunk and started to tuck him in, bringing blankets up his torso to his neck. Luke just tugged at the billowing sleeve of his robe, attempting to pull him down with him. Ben thought he was trying to get his attention. “Yes, Luke?”

“Stay with me?” he pleaded.

The older man hesitated but exhaled and nodded. “Okay, beacon. Okay.”

6 BBY

Luke is eleven years old.

“Alright Luke,” Ben smiled warmly, filling his presence with kindness and love, as much as he could imbue. The boy next to him, barely a mop of blonde hair visible, grinned and snuggled close to his side, curling even more under his large robe. He would have to get another one, Ben mused to himself. Luke was growing bigger every day and he seemed to really like hiding underneath there. Ben would have to compensate in the size of his robes as he grew.

They were on planet side and even spending a few nights there as of the moment. Stopping for supplies was often frequent and short. Usually if Ben was lucky, he could get a small job or do some things for people that would help him get resources, food or fuel. This planet, however, it had turned out, it was monsoon season and for the next few days, no one could even manage to get to or off the ground.

Ben had scrounged up enough credits to pay for a decent – but quite small – room, to wait out the worst of the storm. It was loud and the harsh semi-solid rain pounded against the roof and walls, wailing in some sort of sad and grieving song. It was a bit frightening to the youngster, but Ben was a bit amazed on the comfort Luke could find within Ben’s presence and at his side.

“We have quite some time to burn, and not a lot to do,” he offered, lightly, curling the blankets around them further and making sure the pillows were stacked up enough to support their weight on the bed. There was only one, but Luke was still rather small, and Ben wasn’t an overly large being, they could fit. Would you like to play Obnoxiously Long Explanations?”

Luke laughed, as he always did when he suggested that. The title was something that Luke himself had suggested after he asked a question and Ben had gone on a rather long tirade explanation on the subject. The boy’s attention had barely faltered, as the topic was rather of interest to him, but the next time it happened, Luke had used the term and it kind of stuck for those types of talks.

“Yes please!” he cheered, wriggling under his cloak and peering through, his blue eyes shining in excitement. He practically begged in that moment, squirming even further until Ben felt he could take no more. “Can I go first? Please? Please?”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, the lines around his eyes wrinkling in a true, genuine smile. Luke always wanted to go first, which Ben could understand. He was young, with many questions. Many questions, especially, since he knew what Ben was and that was a topic, he would constantly have questions for. “What would you like to know?”

“The Jedi!” Luke nearly screeched, his voice rising.

“Your father?” Ben asked, expectantly.

Vehemently, Luke shook his head. “No. Yours.”

That surprised Ben and for a moment, he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond; he did not know how. He was fairly certain that he had told Luke about the type of bonds and child rearing of the jedi. It was a bit more communal than most places, as force sensitives more often than not, faired better with their own, together in groups. “I have no father,” he decided on.

Luke was not deterred, and his tone just grew in excitement and impatience. He was trying to get his point across, surely. “Your jedi master! Tell me about your master. And hismaster! And HIS master!” As he went on, his voice got louder and happier. His enthusiasm was heartwarming and hilarious. Ben loved it and he was more than happy to oblige him. It had been some time since Luke’s encounter with Master Jinn as a Force apparition and his curiosity was overflowing.

“Why,” Ben gaped in mock surprise. “That would take all night.”

Ah, rarely did Ben get his own question in, anyways.

“YAAASSSS!” Luke nearly jumped up with his happy shout, bumping into Ben’s side and arm rather forcefully. There would certainly be a bruise there tomorrow. There was a slam as the headboard of the bed hit the wall behind them, echoing a loud noise through the room. Both of them exchanged surprised and vaguely entertained looks and suppressing giggles.

“Quite little beacon,” Ben hushed him, bringing up his hand with a smile. He couldn’t help himself; the boy was right adorable. “We must be courteous to our neighbors.”

The young boy quieted himself and shrunk in just a bit of shame, he turned towards the headboard and kneeled up from underneath the cloak, nearly bringing his forehead to the wall in some kind of quiet, solemn pledge. “My apologies, gentle beings. I vow to be better,” he whispered to the wall.

Ben could only watch in amusement. Luke looked back up at him, waiting and trying to be patient. But then he sat back down and carefully wrapped part of Ben’s cloak around himself again, curling his legs under his body. He was so eager, the want so great. Ben tried not to see Anakin in his eyes. But Anakin many times wanted to know about Qui-Gon. His hero worship for a dead man he knew for a handful of days was rather astounding.

If he only knew.

He wondered if Luke felt the same. It was interesting he thought. Perhaps all Skywalkers had an interest and love for the maverick jedi, despite both of them had barely known the man.

What did that say?

“Well,” Ben started, slowly, trying to figure out a good place to start. The training lineage itself seemed to be what Luke was after. He wondered how far it would go, how far Luke wanted it. “Master Jinn master was a man from Serenno named Count Dooku. Dooku, in turn, was trained by Master Yoda.”

Luke glanced at him as if he thought he was being tricked, his eyes narrowing in serious suspicion. Ben bit back a laugh, it was amusing to see. “Doesn’t Master Yoda train everyone?” he asked, his voice drawing out in a slow drawl.

Ben nodded. “Yes. But Dooku was Master Yoda’s padawan.”

“Padawan,” Luke tested the word on his tongue, and took care doing it, like it was something he should be respectful of. Like it was important. It should have been, Ben thought bitterly. Luke should have been a jedi, able to find a master he would connect with in a way where that relationship was beloved. Ben knew Anakin probably wouldn’t have wanted Luke to be a Jedi, but Ben couldn’t quite imagine him not. The boy, even at nine years old, had wanted it so badly. “What does that mean?”

“It is the jedi term for apprentice,” Ben started to explain, trying to keep things easy for Luke to understand. The boy was smart for his age but even he knew that Ben had a tendency to go a little overboard at times, “but… it is a little more than that. It is a personal relationship, you learn from your master, spend much time with them and go on missions together.”

Luke considered this and beamed, so bright and happy and beautiful. The thought on his mind was something he was so proud of. “Like us!”

Ben tried not to falter. How could he tell Luke that he could never take him on as a padawan? If he hadn’t completely failed Anakin, hadn’t lost everything. The word was dangerous. Even a mere mention of it was something he had to be careful of. The Empire was extremely prejudice about it, about even thinking that someone may be a jedi or a jedi Padawan. He did not answer. “So,” he continued on their original topic instead. “Count Dooku learned more closely from Master Yoda. Master Yoda has had many padawans. Count Dooku, once upon a time, was my grandmaster, which meant he trained my master, who trained me. He was from a planet called Serenno and was a royal, making him a count.”

“Count Dooku….” Luke tried, narrowing his eyes as he thought about the name and the man behind it. “What was he like?”

“I did not know him as a padawan,” Ben confessed, which was true. He wasn’t entirely sure if Dooku just had not wanted to see him, if he wasn’t living up to the Count’s standards or if Qui-Gon just had not wanted Ben to meet him. Or both, he supposed it could have been both. “I didn’t meet him until much later.”

“Is that strange?”

Ben hummed as he thought about this. “Sometimes, I suppose,” he replied. It had been quite some time before he realized what lineage lines more often than not, were. All jedi, padawans, initiates, even knights, had been trained and taught by many others, even those outside of the lineage. Ben had spent quite some time with several others when he was a young knight. Master Drallig had been one, when he had decided to change his primary form. Eventually he had gone to Master Billaba, a known and excellent practitioner of Soresu for guidance. Ben had not seen or met much of his lineage and those he had, were often evil or dead. Xanatos was not someone he wanted to be associated with, as he had gone dark. As well as Dooku’s last padawan, Vosa and then Dooku himself. His teaching lineage was rather a mess.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising that another had fallen so far.

“Many grand masters are often around, some even help teach their padawan’s padawan,” he added, cautiously.

“But he didn’t,” Luke replied, a bit slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he should be saying it.

“No,” Ben shook his head. He wasn’t entirely sure why. He would never really know and his old master, even as a ghost, was not exactly forthcoming with answers, especially when it came to Count Dooku. “He and Qui-Gon had a bit of falling out and often did not see eye to eye.”

“Did you get to meet him?” Luke asked.

“Ah…yes,” he nodded again, although he bit his lip. That was rather complex. Ben hadn’t met him as a jedi but rather, once the older man had fallen to the dark side and had become a sith apprentice. He imagined Dooku became quite different through the transition. “He had become a different person by then and had left the jedi.”

“He became bad.”

“He did bad things, yes,” Ben agreed, careful with his words and his tone. Count Dooku was both an interesting and uneasy topic, but he still had to be cautious with how he said things to an easily impressionable child. “But he wasn’t bad for leaving the jedi. Leaving the jedi isn’t always a bad thing.”

“Why would anyone want to leave the jedi?”

Ben nearly wanted to laugh. Luke said it in such a way that it seemed ridiculous, leaving the jedi. He probably should not have told him all the times he had left or had threatened or thought about leaving. Sometimes the cause was different. “Sometimes, things change. Some people discover it is not the type of life they want to live. There is not shame in it,” he reminded, gentle and patient.

“I want to be a jedi.”

Oh, he sounded so sure. Once upon a time, Anakin had sounded sure.

“I know,” he replied, sensible and slow. He would not berate Luke for wanting this, after all, he could sense it. “But it is okay if you end up changing your mind too.”

“I won’t,” Luke affirmed with a light shrug. “Why did Count Dooku leave?”

“He did not agree with some of the jedi leaders,” Ben explained. It was a bit vague but understandable for the youngster. In all honesty, Ben himself wasn’t entirely sure of all the intricacies behind Dooku leaving and his fall. The two were connected, no doubt. But not everyone who left the jedi became like him. Became like Xanatos or Anakin. “And a man, he told Dooku things, some lies, some things true, from a point of view.”

“But he did bad things anyways,” Luke said, curious but adamant.

“Yes. He hurt people.”

“Did you fight him?”

“Yes. Many times.”

“I wish I could have seen it,” Luke said, wistfully, his eyes glimmering into something of desire. He huffed lightly at the thought. Skywalkers are their obsession with lightsaber fighting. “I bet you fight amazing.”

Ben smiled, a bit uneasily. “I was…an adequate warrior. Count Dooku was a legendary swordsman. One of the best. It took a long time before anyone defeated him.”

“Who beat him?”

“Your father, actually.”

“What?! Really?! That’s so cool! Were you there?”

Ben hummed and nodded. “Yes, Count Dooku was not so easily beaten but your father did it. Dooku, aside from his lightsaber skills was a ruler of a planet and had something of a silver tongue.”

“What is that?”

“He’s very good at talking. Very calm and collected, rarely could one say things that surprised him of caught him off guard,” he explained.

“Kinda like you?”

“Pardon?”

“You are really good at taking,” Luke said seriously, looking up at him.

“I am…alright,” Ben replied, nearly choking on the words. It had been quite some time since someone noticed that. It had been a long time since he had been considered a diplomat, an advisor, a negotiator.

“Can you teach me? To talk like you?”

“Uh…we will see,” Ben chuckled, trying to keep the unease out of his voice. He had once tried to teach Anakin the nuances of speech, especially when it came to speaking with politicians and other scum of the galaxy, but he was more intent on learning about aggressive negotiations. Or at least, that with a lightsaber. Then again, he had never really asked, never really found interest in learning that of the sort. Luke was not Anakin and Ben just had to remind himself of that. Some days were easier than others.

“How many… pada…padawans did Dooku have before he left?” Luke stumbled on the unfamiliar word.

“His first was Rael Aveross, second my master, Qui-Gon Jinn and third, Komari Vosa.”

“Tell me about Master Jinn!”

Of course. Of course. “Are you sure? We can’t go back…”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Alright, alright,” Ben laughed, keeping his tone light and a bit quiet, trying not to disturb the neighbors. It was getting rather dark and late out and no doubt some beings were, in fact, trying to sleep. He started to explain some things that he remembered about his old master, starting with the big things and swirling down to the more minute details. It was a bit fascinating how much Ben remembered, even after over twenty-five years. It was hard to imagine it had been so long. It was hard to imagine that so little time had passed. “Master Jinn was known to be a bit of a maverick. He just… kind of did what he wanted.”

Luke sighed, overly dramatic, throwing his hands up in the air.

That garnered Ben’s curiosity. “What is it?”

“Does no one follow the rules?”

Ben laughed, a bit loud and hearty. He would have never expected something like that to come from a Skywalker’s mouth. “Yes. Master Jinn wasn’t known for following rules. Sometimes this worked in his favor, other times it did not. He was quite the character.”

“He told me something about the Living Force,” Luke asked, uncertainly.

“Did he visit you?”

Luke nodded.

Ben rolled his eyes. “No regard for rules,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’ll tell him,” Luke said, seriously and Ben absolutely believed him. The boy didn’t go around making promises he did not intend to keep. It was something he rather admired about the boy, even already at his age. “If he does it again.”

“What did he try to tell you?”

“Well, he talked about the Living Force…”

Ben explained what he meant by that, as well as the difference between the living and cosmic/unifying force in a way that he hoped was easy to understand for Luke. It was a bit of a tangent, and he thought the lesson was good and Luke just rolled his eyes at the descripted antics of Ben’s old master. Ben was secretly glad he wasn’t the only one. “Master Jinn…he liked plants and animals, generally things that could and would easily kill a person,” Ben grumbled, but his tone was quite fond. Of course at the time, when Master Jinn was alive, it had been annoying, but over time, Ben had even come to appreciate other lifeforms in the way of faun and flora. “I had to take care of many of his pathetic lifeforms.”

“Pathetic lifeforms,” Luke giggled, trying to keep quiet. “That’s funny. Can we get a pathetic lifeform?”

Ben chuckled; a bit nervous. Oh no, he could not go through that again. “Uh no. I don’t think that would be wise…but maybe, perhaps, we can see about getting a plant.”

“Let me guess, one that doesn’t eat people?”

“I think that would be best, don’t you?” Ben smiled, a bit mischievous. This was progress. He can work with a plant, sure. Perhaps it would help teach Luke responsibility as well.

Luke shrugged. “Maybe. But I want a cool one though.”

Present Past

Anakin

“Angel,” Anakin smiled warmly as Padme’s visage popped up over the table. Even through the holocall, she looked as radiant as ever. Obi-Wan was asleep and Anakin just needed to talk to someone. If it wasn’t Obi-Wan, who he knew he had to speak to, he was lucky it was her. He had thought about the Chancellor, but he imagined the man was rather busy at the moment.

Padme just smiled back and shook her head, mockingly hopeless in her expression. She quicky frowned a little bit, as though she remembered something, and her eyes went worried. “Ani. I heard Obi-Wan crashed. Is he okay?”

He wilted at the change of topic, immediately.

“You won’t believe what has happened,” he sighed, running his flesh hand through his hair. He supposed he did want to talk about Obi-Wan. It was unusual affair when it came to her; as he usually didn’t want to talk about him unless he was letting off steam, but Anakin was confused, he didn’t know what was going on or how to proceed. Perhaps Padme could help. She helped with everything else, so why not this. “Obi-Wan…isn’t Obi-Wan.”

Her expression turned flat, and he could see she did not appreciate what she thought must have been a joke. “What does that mean?”

“This is going to sound crazy, he admitted. And it really was.

“Crazier than Mortis?”

He winced as he remembered that absolutely horrible mission. Where Ahoksa had died. Where he had apparently been turned to the dark side. Where his memories were fuzzy and cold and dark. He only remembered parts of that mission and honestly, he didn’t care too much of trying to regain the memories. “Just about.”

“What happened?”

“It appears….it appears, Obi-Wan has time traveled.” Oh, that coming out of his mouth sounded so weird, so wrong.

She laughed, hollowly, but quicky realized he was genuine and stared at him, wide eyed and surprised. “You cannot be serious.”

He nodded, feeling a bit mute. “Master Vos confirmed it. It’s so messed up.”

“Do we win the war?”

He was a little surprised that it was the first thing she thought of the first thing she asked, especially considering her previous concern about Obi-Wan specifically but then again, she was a senator. She had a stake and claim in the outcome of this war. She wanted it over. She wanted to win.

“It doesn’t sound like it,” he grumbled, still bitter. He didn’t know much about anything when it came to the future. Sure, Obi-Wan hadn’t yet much time to talk since he just woke up, but he still hadn’t said much of anything about it. He certainly didn’t talk to Anakin personally. “I don’t know much at this point. Obi-Wan is not a jedi, he’s on the run and I’m dead. You should have seen him, Padme. I don’t even know where to begin! When he saw me, he pulled a saber on me. A lightsaber! He was going to kill me but then he just…. dropped and hugged me instead! He knows who the Sith Master is but he’s acting so strange…” his ramble finally started to slow down as his mouth just kind of ran out of words to spout out.

Padme stared at him through his rant and then the holo call began to move as she sat down. Probably a good idea, he thought. This was a lot to take in. “This…this is a lot to take in,” she admitted, mirroring his thoughts. “He didn’t tell you who it was?”

He shook his head. “He said its…it’s complicated. He’s paranoid about giving information. He doesn’t trust me! I knew it!” his voice became louder and angrier as he went on, the feeling billowing in his chest.

She just sighed and shook her head, as if she was exasperated with him. He hated it when she looked and felt like that, especially with him. “Did he tell anyone else about the identity?”

“Well, no,” he grumbled.

“Then it’s not you, Ani,” she pointed out, her voice calm and patient and kind. With his mind on Obi-Wan, it seemed somehow reminiscent of how his old master used to speak with him when he was a child. A child to be calmed and pacified. He was not entirely sure how he felt about that. “He’s scared and he doesn’t seem to understand what is going on.”

“He doesn’t even think this is real.”

“What do you mean?”

“He thinks the Sith caught up with him and is manipulating his mind,” he huffed, rubbing his temples, as if that would just take everything away. He had a persistent headache. From what, he wasn’t entirely sure. “We haven’t been able to convince him otherwise yet.”

“It’s pretty clear that he has been through a lot,” Padme replied, a bit slowly and Anakin’s chest grumbled in that continued tone. He was not a child to be placated. “Paranoia probably kept him alive. Try to be patient with him. This has to be very scary and strange to him.”

Anakin groaned and nearly flopped over. She wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t even imagine how he would react in Obi-Wan’s shoes. Probably better, or worse, he grimaced. It was difficult to think about. “I knowwwww…. I just. Augh. He’s taking a nap and then he wants to meditate.”

“Maybe that will help him accept this,” she offered. “You know he always feels better after meditation, even if you don’t.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

“Do you know anything else about the future?”

“Not much. I can’t imagine it’s good, if Obi-Wan of all people is on the run.”

“And you are dead,” she pointed out worriedly. “I might be too.”

That got his attention. “What do you mean?”

“Ani…” she started, keeping her voice slow still. “He’s by himself. He’s your friend, your family. He’s my friend. I’m sure he knows we care about each other. I cannot imagine I would not help him if I had been able. Don’t you think he would try to help me if something happened?”

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“Something did,” she pointed out. She wasn’t wrong but the thought was much too horrible to even consider. He would never let anything happen to her. He didn’t think he would let anything happen to Obi-Wan either, some dark part of him realized, but something had. He had allowed that to happen by dying. “Something so horrible, Obi-Wan is all alone. No friends, no family, no jedi.”

“Not completely alone,” Anakin realized. He hadn’t thought about Luke much in the past couple of hours and the thought was actually kind of shaking his core. Perhaps Padme could shed some light on his thoughts and theories.

“Pardon?”

“Someone came back with him, someone who isn’t even born yet in this time,” he said, trying to find the right words to describe him. He probably should not be talking about this whole-time travel thing with others; Master Windu and the Council seemed to want to keep it under wraps – like so many other things, he thought cynically. But Padme could be trusted. He could trust her. After all, if he couldn’t trust his wife, who would he trust? Some tiny voice deep inside him echoed his master’s name. “His name is Luke and he’s…. crazy protective. Wouldn’t even leave Obi-Wan’s side for a while.”

Padme just smiled, knowingly. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“That’s different,” he insisted, and it nearly stunned him how quickly he realized what she was talking about. Who, she was talking about. Him. “He’s, my master. We are a team. The best team.”

“And who is Luke?”

Anakin hesitated and glanced away. The idea had been vaguely bouncing around his head, but he hadn’t voiced it yet. “I think…. I think he might be Obi-Wan’s son.”

“No way.”

“I don’t know for sure,” he added, quickly, almost like he was trying to back track. The thought of Obi-Wan having a child at all was rather mind-boggling. Hypocritical maybe, because that meant he had an attachment, at least of some kind. “It’s just…he told Ahsoka his mother died in childbirth and his father…that it was complicated,” he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Why do you think he’s Obi-Wan’s son?”

“He’s force sensitive.”

“So are you and he’s not your son,” she pointed out, teasingly.

He snorted again; wasn’t that a thought. “He talks like Obi-Wan, you know, all posh and stuff. Was raised by him. And…do you remember the Duchess of Mandalore.”

“Satine Kryze?”

He nodded. Her eyes widened in understanding. If he recalled, he was pretty sure the Duchess and Padme were friends. She’d probably know, perhaps. “When we rooted out the traitor on her ship, she confessed her feelings and he told her he would have left the order if she asked.”

“Do you think she asked?”

“It seems likely, although I have a hard time imagining he would have done it before the war ended,” he admitted. “Honestly, it’s hard to imagine at all. He’s just…he’s got that perfect jedi thing going on.”

Even he knew that Padme was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She generally didn’t always completely agree on some of the things Anakin thought about his former master. “If the war ends and Obi-Wan is on the run, as you say,” she realized, thinking about this train of thought. “He may have fled to Mandalore.”

“Then she died in childbirth,” Anakin frowned. “It would have been…really quickly, right after the war. Luke is, like, fifteen, sixteen max.”

“Does he look like Obi-Wan?”

Anakin shook his head but then hesitated. “I don’t think so, but I haven’t really looked you know? I only spent a couple of hours with him and even then, I wasn’t really looking. He’s blonde, like the Duchess, so maybe he looks more like her?”

“We will have to check it out when you get back to Coruscant. Perhaps do a DNA test or something. That would certainly confirm things. You are coming back, right?”

Anakin hesitated. “Not…yet.”

She sighed.

“The colony of Kiros was taken by slavers,” he explained with a snarl at the word, his anger growing more profound as he realized what was happening, what type of mission they were taking on. Slavers. “Captain Rex and Luke were taken by Dooku.”

Padme looked worried but it was washed away with her expression of compete determination. “Then the Republic’s greatest hero has to go and save them.”

Anakin grinned at the praise. “Not to worry, milady, it shall be done.”

“And milady has work to do,” she laughed.

“Awww. Can’t you stay on longer?”

Something in her eyes glimmered. She was up to something, he knew it. “I do believe I have to do my own part,” she said, vaguely. “And you should probably be around Obi-Wan when he wakes up. He’s going to need you. We are going to win this war this time.”

“This time,” Anakin echoed.

Cody

Quinlan Vos was not exactly the kind of person Commander Cody would have expected General Kenobi to be friends with. He has heard a little of General Kenobi’s friends and life, pre-war, but he had heard things, gleaned from snippets from both General Kenobi, General Skywalker and other still. General Vos was someone General Kenobi complained about, but he did it the same way he complained about Skywalker, which made it clear that they were close.

They were friends. Close friends. Perhaps best friends, although from what Cody could tell, several beings like to try and claim that title. He was a bit curious on General Kenobi’s own thoughts on the matter.

Cody had been trying to keep himself busy while his general slept to prepare for the conflict that was undoubtedly in front of them. Boil and his group had been replaced for clean up on the planet. The trooper had already been ready for another fight when Cody explained what had happened to like and Waxer. Waxer was his best friend and Luke…no one was entirely sure what Luke was to them at this stage, but he was something. Something their troops cared about. Their trusted little fellowship was already fond of the boy, nearly as much as they were to Luke.

Needless to say, no one was happy upon discovering Luke and Waxer’s dilemma and situation. All of them prepared for the next assignment and then milled around the overall area where their general slept. Cody didn’t stop them. They knew about the future and even beside that, there was something else. A change they could feel.

Cody was talking to Barlex and Threepwood, quietly discussing next moves involving the chips. Commander Colt and Alpha-17 were already starting research and had discovered the location of the chip in their heads. It could be found by a level five atomic scan, something few ships had access to. Although, with the right equipment, the surgery did not appear too difficult.

“We need to talk to the jedi about this,” Threepwood said quietly. “You know what Luke did. He can help the droids scan and find the chips.”

“They probably also have access to the necessary scanners and droids,” Barlex added, his voice gruff as per usual.

“We have to be very careful,” Cody warned. “This information could cause widespread panic, or worse, word getting out to the Sith and the chips could be activated early.” It was a terrible thing to think about, much less consider. Even though he technically knew it had happened, happened to his general, it was hard to wrap his head around. He could not even imagine doing such a thing.

“We need help,” Threepwood insisted.

“We do not have the resources to de-chip the entire GAR while we fight this war,” Barlex agreed, although rather grudgingly. He didn’t always seem to like agreeing with other people. “Or the equipment, the time, the excuses.”

“I know,” Cody hissed.

“If you need boys de-chipped fast, contacting jedi healers and perhaps jedi with smaller clone attachments might be a good start.”

The three of them shut up quicky and spun around, lining up in front of the jedi general in perfect formation to salute in practiced smooth movements. “Sir!” one of them near shouted. Cody didn’t know who it was. He didn’t dare look.

“We didn’t…”

General Vos raised a hand, smirking subtly and casually. Cody wanted to feel relaxed, he really did. This was General Kenobi’s friend; couldn’t they trust him? He truly hoped so. “Don’t worry, I’m no snitch. Well, actually I am, but not in this case,” he smiled at his own joke, although it was a bit weak. “I know about the chips and what happened in Obi-Wan’s future.”

That helped ease the tension a bit. General Vos gave them a rundown on his specific abilities to give them a rational explanation to his access of knowledge. And then he continued to explain his suggestion. “There are healers stationed everywhere and if there is one thing they know, aside from healing, it is digression. They have any and all excuses, especially as jedi, to see troopers.”

“The surgery is apparently pretty easy,” Barlex also noted. “Luke did several with the help of a basic med droid, quickly.”

An eyebrow rose curiously. “Then it should definitely be faster and easier with actual healers. I can contact Master Healer Che and start proceedings in that area.”

“She’s your top coordinator?” Cody asked. He nodded. “Maybe start with the other healers, away from Coruscant.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Was he that obvious?

“The danger is centered there,” Cody replied, vaguely. The others glanced at him, but he didn’t meet their gaze. The speculation was just that…speculation but even if it was confirmed, if the chips didn’t spread mass panic, the acknowledgment and identity of the man behind all of this, would.

“I wanted to talk to you,” General Vos dropped it for now. “About Obi-Wan, Luke, steps going forward to prevent that future.”

“Barlex and Threepwood know,” Cody stated firmly, as General Vos glanced between the three of them warily. Cody answered his silent question immediately. “Luke asked me to gather some of the boys and he explained what he knew. They are de-chipped. Waxer knows.”

“He’s with Luke,” General Vos realized, after a moment. General Kenobi must have told him about Waxer, Cody thought. He couldn’t really believe that General Vos knew any of them by name. Before this, he hadn’t really spent much time with the 212thbattalion and the only one he ever really interacted with to some degree was Cody himself. “I am not certain of that will end up being a good or a bad thing.”

“He will do his duty.”

“I have little doubt,” General Vos agreed, a bit readily, to their surprise. “Who else knows?”

Cody didn’t think the names or even numbers would mean anything to the jedi, but he listed them off anyways. “The Medic,” General Vos realized as Cody went over Helix’s name and gestured for them to follow. They ended up in General Kenobi’s office which Barlex pointed out as they got in, his voice just flat enough not to sound too insubordinate or disrespectful.

“It’s easier to get into his mindset here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mentioned my psychometry. It’s linked to that. I got a lot from Luke before the battle,” he said, as they settled in. Everyone was still rather uneasy. “And even more from Obi-Wan. It’s…it is really bad.”

“We are forced to kill the jedi,” Barlex noted.

“Even the little ones,” Threepwood finished, quiet and pained at the thought. No one knew exactly who had marched on the Temple in General Kenobi’s past and their possible future. For all they knew it could have been them. Maybe it had been. Maybe not. It didn’t matter so much at this point; they still felt it rather keenly, almost as though they had personally done it. It was a horrible thought.

General Vos nodded. “Obi-Wan was unconscious when I got the information from him so… so I didn’t feel that in the way he felt it. I didn’t feel his pain and grief in the full force that I would have if he had been awake; just the…remnants of it.”

“You know who did it,” Barlex voiced something they had all realized.

“Pardon?”

“You know who attacked the Temple,” Cody answered for him, quietly. “You know who killed and massacred the children, the elderly, the sick and injured. You know who led them.”

General Vos didn’t let his face show anything. Cody wondered if that was a skill all Jedi knew because General Kenobi was good at that as well. It didn’t matter what he showed on his face and what he did not. His pause spoke volumes.

“Who was it?” Barlex nearly demanded.

Threepwood just froze. He didn’t want to know.

“Was it us?”

Vos’s response was immediately. “No. No, it wasn’t you.”

No one dared to let out the large breath they were all holding. It was uncomfortable, they were uncomfortable, and they knew it, even if it was not them, it had been someone.

Cody had a theory, a feeling.

He did not like it.

He wanted it verified, a desperate plea for himself to be wrong, but he did not voice it. He could not bring himself to. General Vos caught his eye. Cody just wilted.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, instead. “As long as we move quickly and quietly, it won’t happen at all. Obi-Wan is awake, as I’m sure you are all aware. At this point in time, he does not believe this to be real. He thinks that this is a complex Sith mind trick. This will be a lot more difficult if we cannot convince Obi-Wan of otherwise.”

“He will come to the right conclusion,” Cody affirmed. “He’s practical and smart. He will figure it out.”

“I imagine time travel is pretty difficult to wrap one’s head around,” Threepwood grimaced. “We were lucky, I think, having Luke around. He’s not born yet, and he knows things he couldn’t have known unless General Kenobi had told him.”

“We are heading to Zygerria,” General Vos continued. “General Koon and the 104thare going to Kadavo to retrieve the Kiros colonists, on Obi-Wan’s intelligence. We, in the meantime, are headed to the planet to get their governor and make some noise to attract Dooku,” he explained.

“Why?”

“We are fairly certain he has Luke and the missing troopers.”

The boys bristled. “They are dead, aren’t they?”

“We don’t think so,” he disagreed.

“Why? Count Dooku does not take trooper hostages,” Barlex pointed out.

“Usually, yes,” General Vos nodded. “But he thinks Luke is Obi-Wan’s padawan and, especially due to his very…sudden…disappearance, Dooku’s interest is undoubtedly high with him and the situation surrounding him.”

“And?”

“He will probably use the troopers as leverage, hostages,” General Vos confessed with a frown. “If Count Dooku wanted those troopers dead, I imagine we would have just found their bodies in the air base on Umbara. Luke is young and he is rather fond of you, it appears. They will make decent leverage.”

“He is,” Threepwood sighed.

“But what Luke knows about the future…could it be that valuable to Dooku?” Barlex asked. “Luke was born after the war.”

“I doubt Dooku, at this point, knows about the time travel and we think Dooku’s interest is in Luke’s relation to Obi-Wan. As most of you probably know… Count Dooku…he’s a bit fond of him.”

“He shows it in very strange ways,” Threepwood muttered.

“He is Obi’s grand master.”

Threepwood and Barlex sputtered.

“Count Dooku is General Kenobi’s grandfather?”

General Vos looked vaguely uncomfortable with the phrase but shook his head lightly, like that wasn’t exactly it. It wasn’t, Cody knew the jedi didn’t have grandfathers in the way that many other cultures did but that didn’t make those relationships any less personal. “Err…. not exactly but sort of? He trained Obi-Wan’s master, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“That is…. messed up,” Threepwood sighed.

“We want him to come to Zygerria. He’s in league with the slaver queen there, no doubt working some angle. According to Obi-Wan, he had gone to the planet last time when she didn’t quite…listen to the Count.”

“So, we are kind of doing the same thing?”

General Vos just smiled. “More like we are going to make a bit of a mess and kark some things up to get Dooku to come. Just a small team for now, lure him in and then attack with the 501st and 212th.”

“I can put together a task force, sir,” Cody said. He knew exactly who to bring.

“I would say you should probably stay on the ship, but I don’t think you will,” he cracked a sly grin.

“Barlex can cover,” Cody replied, readily, glancing at his brother. His gaze hardened in determination, and he nodded. “Besides, I think me being there, with Boil, might help.”

“How do you mean?”

“Both Boil and I were in the future, we lived…longer than most,” Cody explained but it was difficult to get through. He didn’t know much about the future and he didn’t particularly like talking about the fates of his brothers, as horrible as they were. As little as he knew, with only speculation and hypothesis to guide him through. “He’s a bit more comfortable around those people, especially Boil. He’s got a bit of a soft spot for him and he’s still alive in General Kenobi’s future.”

��He did mention him before,” General Vos noted.

“I brought him back from cleanup. He’s probably already talking with the General now,” Cody added. “General Kenobi prefers short power naps more than anything. The more comfortable he is with the squad, the more information we will get and the more likely he may be more inclined to believe.”

“And they won’t let anything happen to him,” Barlex vowed, darkly.

“Finally!” a new voice grumbled as the door was forced open. Helix burst in with a long sigh and a huff. “General, commander. I guess I should have known. I thought you would want to know. General Kenobi is awake.”

Ben

“Obi-Wan! Please!”

“It was only a dream, dear one. Dreams pass in time.”

“He will never want me.”

“You will never remind me.”

“Ben!”

“Obi-Wan!”

“I love you.”

“And you, you’ve grown sadder.”

“Trust in the Force.”

“I will not abandon you.”

“I would have chosen you over and over given the chance.”

“I foresee you becoming a greater jedi than I.”

“He was my best friend, my brother.”

“You can see that?”

“It’s just you and me, old man.”

“Is it true?”

“Yes.”

“I am so proud of you.”

“We were waiting.”

“I’m waiting.”

“You have become a far greater jedi than I could ever hope to be.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If In die here, it’s going to be your fault.”

“If I die here, it’s going to be with you.”

“Forgive me if I still think I know you better than anyone else.”

“I know what you wanted. I’m not leaving him.”

“You do.”

“We meet again.”

“It is all your fault.”

“LIES!”

“It’s over Anakin.”

“It hate you.”

“I love you.”

Ben’s inhale back into consciousness, coming from his slumber, was quick and deep, accompanied by a dry throat and wet cheeks.

“Welcome back, general.”

It took a rather embarrassingly long moment for Ben to put a finger on the name. It had been a very long time. He racked his brain, but eventually, the short-term memories came back forward. The star destroyer. Quinlan. Umbara 2.0. What did the Sith Lord want with staging this specific campaign? Surely, he would be smart enough to know Ben wouldn’t do the same things as last time; that surely, he would try to be better, do better, save more lives. No matter how hard he tried, Ben just couldn’t quite stop being a jedi. He wondered how the casualty counts compared to the first time around.

“Helix,” Ben murmured, a bit fondly. “It has been a while.”

“So, you have said,” Helix hummed, and Ben could feel him going over him, checking for anything and everything, going through his vitals while the jedi regained himself. “Longer for you than me, as your padawan says it.”

“My padawan?” Ben mused.

“Luke,” Helix supplied.

“Is that what he calls himself?”

“No,” Helix shrugged. “But it seems kind of obvious to us. Good kid, though. Kind, generous. Protective of you…and us, it appears.”

“He has always wanted to meet the people of my past.”

“Well, if you tell him a bunch of glory stories, that does not seem too surprising.”

“They were flattering ones, I assure you.”

“Not the ones where we kill all of you, I imagine.”

The plain facts and rational tone of Helix’s voice caught Ben off guard. He turned to stare at him in surprise, a little wide eyed. Oh, the man hadn’t changed a bit. He was just like how Ben remembered him over sixteen years ago. “You…how… I don’t know what you are talking about,” he settled on.

Look at that, he could be at a loss for words.

“Luke told us,” Helix confessed. “Got the chips out and everything. Just a few of the boys to start. I think he wanted some allies. The Commander, Gearshift, Trapper, Longshot, Threepwood, Barlex, Wooley, Crys, your favorites,” he smirked at the end.

Ben sputtered. “What…I do not-.”

“Don’t worry, general,” he just chuckled. “Everyone has favorites, and we get it. Care isn’t finite or whatever; jedi-way. We all know. Can’t say we completely blame ya, those two are surprisingly good with you. However, speaking of which, Commander Cody did pull some strings, so Boil came with us instead of staying on Umbara for cleanup.”

“He can to Kiros with us last time,” Ben mused, quiet and mostly to himself. “He wanted to get his mind off of…off of Waxer.”

“Waxer died on Umbara the first time, didn’t he?”

It wasn’t much to jump to that conclusion, apparently. He wondered what Luke had told them. Ben swallowed and nodded. “Friendly fire.”

“Commander Cody told me. He said Luke put a stop to it. As far as we know, currently, they are both still alive.”

“Things have already changed,” Ben mumbled. “Luke wasn’t here last time…could it…”

“Boil is coming up,” Helix said quietly. “It may be a few minutes. Would you like to talk to him? I know he isn’t your future version but perhaps a friendly and known presence might help ground you.”

“Ground me?”

“You confessed earlier that you believed this was a Sith trick; a mental manipulation orchestrated by the Sith,” Helix began to explain, only a bit hesitant.

Ben nodded.

“Maybe he could help,” he shrugged. “It’s a little difficult to see Boil as a grounding influence but well, who knows?”

“Alright,” Ben conceded. He rather thought he would like to see the trooper again anyways. Even if he may have just been a figment of this trick, Helix was not wrong, a friendly face would always be a blessing.

“It’ll be a couple of minutes. I have some boys to look over, can you handle a bit by yourself?”

He just laughed, lightly. “Of course, Helix. Go on.”

Arfour was not having a good time.

Her pathetic lifeform had finally awoken but he was just all over the place. Running around like a maniac, his vitals all over the place and nothing that came out of his person that made any sense. Not real? What was not real?

He looked at her as if he had not seen her in a very long time.

It had been not even a singular day.

She let the two humanoids speak and she waited for her turn quietly. [pathetic lifeform] was tired and confused but seeing [know-it-all] appeared to make him a bit more at ease. Some residents of the ship made him more at ease than others.

She took note of that.

[pathetic lifeform] smiled kindly at her as she rolled into his room beeping indignantly. Looking down at her, there was something, an expression, on his face that her current data banks just could not quite identify. “Ah, Arfour. I think we have some work to do.”

Boil’s face appeared in the doorway and all Ben could think was how young he looked. Last time he had seen Boil, he had much more scruff on his face, more wrinkles, grey hair. But he carried himself the same.

Ben wasn’t sure if even the Sith could duplicate that.

His expression instinctively softened at the sight of him. “Hello, Boil.”

The trooper shifted; a bit uncomfortable. Things were not the same as they were in the future; Ben had to be careful. “General. It’s good to see you awake. We…I mean some of the boys were worried.”

Ben nodded. “My apologies. That was not my intention.”

The trooper was fighting back his reactions, probably that of a disbelieving snort. He was trying so hard, Ben mused. He wondered if Boil was a figment of his imagination, the last throws to preserve what was left of his sanity.

Losing it to a Sith Lord wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to go.

Embarrassing.

He was closer now.

“My apologies, sergeant,” he repeated.

“For what, sir?”

“When Luke…helped you off of Vader’s ship, you wanted to stay with us. He loved you. I think you may have been Luke’s only real friend at that point.”

Boil swallowed. Ben didn’t know if he understood.

“I couldn’t let you. I couldn’t let you stay with us. Sometimes I regret it but…that’s not the jedi way.”

“Why did you not want me to stay?”

“I could not give Vader another loved one to be targeted,” Ben rasped. It was too late, the Sith already knew. So much in Ben’s head…sometimes he wished he was a droid, able to just wipe it all away.

Boil just stared at him and Ben wanted to reach out in the force with his feelings and projections. It had been a long time since he had done that amongst troopers.

He didn’t dare.

“Why…” Boil hesitated and glanced away. “Why does Vader hate you so much? Who is he?”

Ben’s breath caught. He had never actually confessed it to anyone, who Vader was.

Boil seemed to sense Ben’s panic and quickly tried to backtrack. The tone of his voice sounded strange paired with Boil’s gruff voice and his usual attempt to be calm and surly and brusque. “I am so sorry, sir. You do not have to tell me. It is completely fine. It doesn’t even matter really. He’s not here and you are not there.”

“I used to,” Ben struggled to speak. “I know him. Vader he…”

Ben stopped and stiffened. Boil followed his snap quick gaze to where Skywalker was standing in the doorway.

“Sergeant, would you mind leaving us for a bit?” Ben asked, not unkindly. He would not let a Sith near the trooper if he could help it. If Vader had donned Anakin’s visage. He wasn’t sure who this was, if it was Vader or someone else playing him or even yet, Anakin himself. Quinlan and several others had tried to convince him that he was in the past. For one of the first times ever, Boil hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he should actually do as he had been asked. But after a moment, he walked out with a touch of bristle on his shoulders.

It did not escape Anakin’s attention but he, surprisingly, did not say a word.

Instead, he walked over to Ben and carefully sat next to him.

He felt so real, Ben mused. Like he could reach out and touch him, a familiar warm body under his fingers that wouldn’t burn at the contact.

Anakin always burned in his dreams.

It was a horrible think, to wish he had made sure he had killed Anakin on Mustafar well over a decade ago. So much pain could have been avoided. All it would have cost was Ben himself, leaving all the hurt and pain and horribleness for his mind and shoulders.

He was rather good at that.

He thinks perhaps killing Anakin on Mustafar would have broken him, most times. As much sadness as he could bear, he wasn’t sure if he could survive that.

But then again, Obi-Wan Kenobi had died alongside Anakin Skywalker that day.

If Quinlan and Helix and everyone else was right, if this was real and he was somehow back in his own history, able to make choices and change anything, that meant… did that mean Anakin Skywalker lived once more?

And if he did, did that mean Obi-Wan Kenobi was revived as well?

Could it be possible?

Everything had felt so real, although Ben hadn’t dared to reach out too much to others in the Force. He hadn’t even touched any bonds. If the old ones were still there and not ravaged…he did not know what he’d do.

“I had so much to say,” Anakin started, his voice uncharacteristically subdued and muted, fighting so hard to remain and relaxed and patient. “But I don’t know anymore. I’ve been thinking about things for hours and hours. Everything is going to be so different now.”

“What do you mean?”

“For me, it has only been a day. A day since it was you and me, like always. A day ago, I thought everything was fine. I thought we were okay. For me, the things that you have gone through have not happened yet. I’m alive and healthy, early twenties with a young padawan, fighting in a galaxy-wide war,” he tried to explain but Ben could tell, he was certainly struggling. “But for you, for you, it has been over fifteen years. You saw the end of the war, and something so terrible happened, you left the jedi and are on the run.”

“I did not leave,” he mumbled, absentmindedly. He hadn’t even been aware that he had spoken it until moments after, when Anakin’s head jerked, eyes meeting his in some form of terrified confusion. It looked so real, his uncertainty, and Ben wanted so desperately to believe it. Because if Anakin was befuddled and perplexed, then perhaps he didn’t know, perhaps Quinlan was right and this was actually his padawan. Not the monster that was using his body.

“Huh?”

“I did not leave,” he repeated, a bit louder.

“Did they…kick you out?” Anakin asked, skeptical and unconvinced.

Ben shook his head. “No. Everyone is dead and gone. I’m the last of the jedi.”

Anakin

Anakin just choked. That was not what he was expecting. Not that he had many expectations at this point. It was still painful to think about, however, and anything Anakin had expected, they both knew, this was not it.

Ten thousand jedi.

One survivor.

“That’s impossible,” he whispered. He hadn’t even realized he had said it. His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t spoken in years or if he had spoken too much in that time. It was an odd contradiction, but all Anakin could feel was like he was choking on nothing at all. Because that could not have happened.

“Unfortunately, it very much is possible,” Ben hummed. “I have seen the Temple bathed in blood, bodies thrown carelessly across the halls, shot in the back. I have seen younglings murdered in their beds. They never stood a chance.”

Rage was swelling in Anakin’s chest and Ben studied him curiously. He didn’t seem entirely sure about the validity of his reaction just yet, which just didn’t make any sense. His wariness and paranoia would normally hurt and anger Anakin but right now, he was barely paying attention. It was the overwhelming and heartbreaking feelings that dominated absolutely everything at this point, because there was so many. So many jedi, ten thousand. And they were all just…gone?

Who could have possibly done such a thing?

“How are you not furious?”

“It happened over fifteen years ago,” Ben rasped, and his voice was hoarse and pained. It was like he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Anakin wondered if that actually was the case. “I doubt the horror and grief I felt then will ever truly fade but I cannot…I could not do anything about it.”

“You can now,” Anakin insisted. “We can. It hasn’t happened yet. We can fix this.”

Ben was humming, non-committedly. “Interesting,” he murmured.

Anakin’s brain kept buzzing. This wasn’t happening, was he different and nothing could change it? Was it so bad that Anakin would never have his best friend back? He couldn’t imagine a life now without Obi-Wan being right there, at his side. And he didn’t want to. “What is happening to you?”

He just sighed, long suffering and tired. Obi-Wan was always tired these days but there was something in his expression that was just a little more. “A lot has happened and I’m not sure what you want from me.”

“I want my master back.”

“What does that entail, exactly?”

How to answer that. With everything that was happening and everything that had happened. All of their lives and things they had done and said and not done and said. That was a question he didn’t think he could truly answer, not in its entity. Because this was Obi-Wan and that is all Anakin wanted. “I didn’t realize things had changed so much with us until…until this whole time travel thing. Things have changed so drastically but it is like I don’t know us anymore. We are a tram, the team. We are the best, I can’t even imagine my life without you. But I’ve realized…. it’s like… I don’t know what we are anymore. It’s not the same.”

Much of that may be my fault, I suppose.”

Anakin was so startled by his instinctive desire to agree to such a prospect. When had he turned into the default for blaming Obi-Wan? When had it become so easy? But before Anakin could gather himself again and his thoughts to speak, the older jedi continued. What he said next didn’t seem at all in direct relation to his previous statement.

He was practically choking on the words. “If this is a dream, I do not want it to end.”

Anakin didn’t think he meant to say that out loud. “This is real, master, I swear.”

“I never truly knew why you did it,” he replied, instead. A lump formed in Anakin’s throat. What had he done? “I knew you had resentment, some notion that I had been holding you back. You have said it. If I had, it was never intentional. I’m not exactly the best jedi or teacher, and I know you deserved better, someone who actually knew what they were doing. I know you wanted Qui-Gon and I…don’t blame you. I just didn’t realize I had done so poorly and failed you so much. I did not realize how far you had fallen or when it started.”

Anakin froze. That was much to unravel at the moment. He ended up focusing on the end of the speech.

Fallen? As in…?

It couldn’t be possible.

“What did I become?”

Ben did not want to answer, which just worried Anakin more. He must have been so truly terrible for him to withhold this.

Quinlan Vos appearing was annoying, to put it mildly, as Anakin seemed to believe they were making progress. For answers. But Ben, although subtly, looked visibly relieved. “Hey, Obes,” Master Vos greeted with a smooth smile and a comforted expression, as he carefully entered. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit confused,” Ben admitted, truthfully. “None of this makes sense. I don’t know what Sidious wants from me.”

“Perhaps we are telling the truth, maybe this is time travel,” Master Vos suggested.

“Time travel. An interesting notion,” Ben mused. “Not impossible, however rather unlikely.”

“Why is that?”

“Anakin is acting rather strange.”

“How?”

Obi-Wan exhaled and closed his eyes. Upon opening them, he stared at Anakin as if he thought he would disappear. Anakin stared back at him. This didn’t make any sense Then Obi-Wan turned to look back at Quinlan. “Worried, concerned. Not nearly as angry and resentful as the last time I saw him. I wish this cruel trick would end. But, at the same time, I feel as though this could be a wonderful dream.”

Anakin’s breath caught and emotions, feelings, everything just came rushing in all at once. It was nearly unbearable. “How could you?” his voice stuttered in something of vibration, of hurt and pain. “How could you think that I don’t care?!” he cried.

“Skywalker,” Quinlan warned.

“After-.”

Anakin,” Quinlan snapped, a little louder.

His jaw snapped shut. He was trying, he was trying, he was trying; they could give him back. He had to be careful, they all did. Anakin hated being so worried and concerned about what he said or felt. But he just wanted Obi-Wan back. And he would do anything. “I would rather like to meditate, if you would allow,” Obi-Wan said, quietly, unable to meet Anakin’s eyes.

“This isn’t a Sith trick; you are allowed to do as you please.”

“I’m not sure if I want to believe you. The implications of this…. of this not being a trick or a hallucination or a dream…I do not know what I would do with it. It has been fifteen years, in such a dark galaxy, hunted relentlessly for so long.”

“We are going to fix it, master,” Anakin assured, as he tried to calm himself; trying to breathe. He still sounded determined, dangerous. “I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let it.”

“You keep saying such things as that,” Obi-Wan hummed, his brow furrowing. “As though you think you can control it all.”

Quinlan interrupted before Anakin could say something stupid. Which, in all honesty, Anakin knew most would have probably found anything he would say next rather dumb. “Would meditation help you?”

“I haven’t…reached in the Force that way yet,” he admitted. “Since I woke up.”

“Maybe it is time,” Quinlan offered. “Perhaps it will help you determine your reality.”

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Would you like to join me?”

“Sure. Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Obi-Wan just shrugged. “Surprisingly, here is fine.”

“Do you intend to join us?” Quinlan asked Anakin.

“Yes,” he nearly growled.

“Then can you at least quiet your mind? Your chaotic way of doing things is doubtfully going to be much help with Obi-Wan,” Master Vos replied, flatly.

“It’s alright,” the older master assured, almost sounding even fond of the way that Anakin does things, even something as an attempt at meditation. “Even after all this time, I know Anakin Skywalker. I’d be interested how things end up. With the Sith, with all of their resources, I find it doubtful they could be able to reproduce it.”

Anakin shot Quinlan a smug grin.

They settled down on the floor and Anakin commed Ahsoka. She had gotten there in record time and was invited to join them as well. Obi-Wan’s gaze was soft at the sight of her, something nostalgic and pained. Anakin wondered if she survived, but then he remembered what Obi-Wan had said about survivors. Or lack thereof.

Anakin had never tried quite so hard at the typical form of meditation than he did just then. All the worry, all the fear; he tried so hard. But every time he opened his eyes, every time he reached out, he could see Obi-Wan smirk, subtly. Like he knew something.

Like Anakin’s meditation habits were familiar and amusing.

Was this progress? Was it possible that Anakin could get Obi-Wan back?

At the very least, most of him?

More beings approached, tentative and hesitant as Anakin sunk into the Force again. The 212th, no doubt, and at least six of them. He tried not to pay attention, but he didn’t recognize any of them off hand. Obi-Wan certainly did.

He continued to relax.

Anakin bit back a scowl. Obi-Wan was more comfortable with the troops than Anakin himself at this point. He didn’t really know any of them. Obi-Wan knew several of Anakin’s own 501st by name…perhaps, Anakin should get to know of some of Obi-Wan’s 212th.

He made a note to himself.

“Is there something you need, commander?” Obi-Wan asked, suddenly.

Anakin startled out of the meditation. He hadn’t even noticed the officer approach. Cody stood in the doorway, patient and dutiful as always.

“You have a call, sir,” Cody responded, a bit quiet.

Obi-Wan silently untangled himself from his position on the floor and stood. “Of course, Commander. Ahsoka, Quinlan…Anakin. I will take my leave. I hope you found this meditation as enlightening as I.”

Quinlan and Anakin perked. Perhaps…?

He and Anakin just glanced at one another. Progress, they both thought. Perhaps they were making progress.

Cody

“Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough,” Ben shrugged as he and Commander Cody made their ways through the halls, away from the medical bay. “I do believe I will feel better when I find Luke. Who is requesting my presence?”

“General Windu, sir,” Cody responded easily.

The general let out a little tension in his shoulders while Cody just watched. He had been expecting someone else, he noted, someone worse. Someone he was fearing to speak to. The commander was grateful he could give him someone to speak with that the general actually cared for. Perhaps he could prevent Obi-Wan from talking with that person, the person he dreaded. The room they entered already had the call going, with a shimmering blue visage in the middle.

“Hello Mace,” General Kenobi greeted, fondly.

“Obi-Wan,” Genera Windu softened in such a way that Cody had only heard from Ponds before. Sometimes he had thought that the general hadn’t even been capable of it. It was a rude thought, he knew, but General Windu wasn’t often one to show such sentiment. Then again, this was General Kenobi. From what Cody knew, they had known each other for a very long time and were friends. “How are you feeling?

“I have been asked that quite a bit,” General Kenobi admitted. “I have gotten some sleep and was able to do some meditating. I will concede there is a possibility this is…this is real. Time travel is not exactly impossible,” he continued, a bit quiet, tentative, as if gauging reactions. “I just…I am unsure how to accept it as a possibility, after everything that has happened.”

I don’t know what happened in your past,” General Windu confessed, and he did not look happy about it. Cody had heard about General Windu’s abilities with something called shatter points. He wondered if he could see or feel them through holo calls and if anything changed with them the first time this had happened. “But I know it must have been truly devastating. And those things that happened to you, I…we cannot take those experiences away. But you, us, we have a unique chance to change the horrors of what you have witnessed for others.”

“I will,” General Kenobi vowed, strong and resolute. “I will do what I must. I will not let you down.”

General Windu just looked a little sad, like he knew something that no one else did about him. Cody found it hard to imagine that someone would be a bit upset by General Kenobi’s drive and declaration of persistence. Usually, it was a good trait to have, as far as Cody knew. “I know you won’t. There is a reason I called. We have an intelligence officer that was around Zygerria; the one that gave us the information on the Kiros colonists.”

General Kenobi hummed. “Did this person give you more information?”

He nodded. “Dooku is already heading to Zygerria. His little detour to Umbara has made the Queen send a ship and some of her workers to escort him to her. Basic contact has been made with your missing troopers.”

Both he and General Kenobi perked. “Luke?”

“He has been confirmed aboard but no contact yet.”

“That is something at least.”

“Caution is key, especially with Dooku aboard the ship as well.”

General Kenobi seemed to understand and agreed. “Do not attract attention, I understand. Luke can take care of himself.”

“Even against Dooku?”

“He has been trained and prepared to deal with much worse.”

“Who is he?”

“I’m not sure you would believe me if I tried,” General Kenobi replied, a faintly amused smile quirking from his lips. General Windu mirrored his expression and shook his head, exasperated and fond. “Have you met him?”

“I have not talked to him or seen him, yet no,” General Windu replied, now a bit curious and even a tad more suspicious, although it seemed mocking rather than actually serious. “Why?”

This just made General Kenobi’s smile grow as something twinkled in his eye. “I think, if this is real, I might just love it when you do.”

“Now I’m concerned,” General Windu replied, eyes furrowing.

To Cody’s absolute pleasure and the other High General’s surprise, General Kenobi burst into a light fit of mellow and gentle laughter, authentic and genuine. “Don’t be too worried, dear. Luke meeting you will most likely be the least of your problems.”

Cody didn’t think that made General Windu feel much better, but the mood was lightened just a bit and Cody felt he had some hope. Their conversation lasted a while longer, and while they spoke, they included Cody within their ideas and thoughts on what to do next. Their plan shifting into something a bit less noisy and a bit more subtle. Cody thought with General Skywalker around, it would dive right back into crazy.

He was pretty sure General Kenobi agreed.

Their approach to Zygerria space was upcoming and everyone was feeling the anxiety. It spread over most of the ship but centered around the jedi and those closest to them. Everyone knew about what had happened to Captain Rex and Lieutenant Waxer and the other boys and with the hope that they may still be alive, there was concern and optimism with the chance. The closer they got, the angrier Skywalker got, and General Kenobi avoided talking to him by busying himself with relaying orders and going over plans with the others.

“Boil, Trapper, Wooley, Longshot,” Cody ordered, listing off the names rather easily. There were so few of them that he could keep the circle too. He wondered if Luke would be against him widening their circle. There were several other troopers he knew he could trust, and he felt as he could use the help. “You’re with the general and me. Barlex, Threepwood, Crys, Gearshift, I need you to hold down the fort.”

None of them appeared very pleased with being away from the action.

“I need people who know about Luke and the general’s situation, in case something happens,” Cody continued, trying to calm their nerves. “Because whatever happens, we need to prevent the genocide of the jedi and continue to de-chip the GAR so we cannot be used in such a way,” he said, sternly.

It was then agreed rather readily.

Anakin

There were many ships going to and from Zygerria as of late and Skywalker just kept growling at the options before them, as each and every one was passed for any number of reasons. He hated that they were just letting them go, one by one, just waiting and trying to find the right one, the one that would suit their needs. They were going to board and take over a ship that was headed to the planet, the home planet of one of the most notorious former slave empires, one that already had access for easy passage to the ground. There were many to choose from and apparently, they had to be careful with their choice.

He hated it.

But they found one. They found one and were simply waiting for it to fall into their grasp. It would be rather easy enough, he imagined. They were standing on the bridge, patiently waiting. Or at least, most of them were patient. Anakin just kept scowling as his hate and anger rose higher and higher. Obi-Wan had hesitated and Anakin saw it, but he put a hand on the young knight’s shoulder, squeezing just gently, like he wasn’t entirely sure if his hand would go through him or not. Like he wasn’t certain Anakin was solid. Whoever had done this to him, whoever had made Obi-Wan doubt himself so much like this, Anakin would make them pay. And then Obi-Wan would never have to feel that way again. “Their empire will not rise again,” he assured, his voice quiet but certain in his words.

Anakin clenched his fist and tried to release it. His voice was rising, only kept low and down by the growl of his chest space in his tone, grumbling up through his throat. It didn’t really matter how loud or quiet he was, however, and although he didn’t really notice it at first, the other officers on the bridge were rather uneasy with his feelings. “Those slaver scum think they are better than everyone else, that they can just bend everyone to their sick will.”

“Be mindful of your feelings,” the statement was almost oddly comforting, it was rather a staple of Obi-Wan’s teachings, as much as Anakin got irritated with it on a constant basis. He hated it, normally, Obi-Wan telling him this. But it was such a normal statement in their dealings, in their life, the one with Obi-Wan, it was also a comfort. At least something was normal. “You cannot let them control you.”

He bit back a scowl. His feelings were what made him powerful, special, but he tried to appease his master. He would do anything right now just to get a little piece of him back. “I know. I know.”

“Breathe with me.”

“What?”

“Breathe with me,” Obi-Wan repeated and for once, Anakin could understand why people thought Obi-Wan so patient. Anakin actually heard him, actually looked into his tone and his voice and him in the Force. He wasn’t judging him, he wasn’t angry or upset, or anything of the sort. He just wanted to help. He just wanted to help Anakin, even if Anakin didn’t think that his feelings were something that he needed help with. “We have a few minutes before we intercept our desired vessel.”

Tentatively, as if it would burn, Obi-Wan took both of Anakin’s hands. The young knight gently squeezed back. Obi-Wan’s gaze was on them for a long moment, rubbing a thumb in tight, light circles on the, studying the flesh hand as if he hadn’t really expected to see it.

“In four beats, through your diaphragm,” Obi-Wan instructed as he inhaled, expecting Anakin to follow. “Hold…. And out for eight.”

Anakin remembered this exercise. It had been years since he had done it, but he remembered it. He remembered the way Obi-Wan would breathe with him when he felt panicked or stressed. Most negative emotions really. He would go on and on, never stopping until Anakin told him and truly felt better. It never mattered how long it took, Obi-Wan had always been there with him, breathing in time with him.

Once upon a time, it had helped.

When had it stopped helping? When had he stopped doing it?

Did it at all? Or did Anakin just stop seeing the use, when he started using his negative emotions, when he saw them as useful and powerful. Had he started to see it as childish or another way Obi-Wan could control him?

Control him, Anakin nearly scoffed. As if he could. As if he wanted to.

Why were his emotions so heightened and negative when it came to Obi-Wan as of late? It had been like that for quite some time, he realized. He was constantly getting upset and angry with his former master and at this particular moment, Anakin could not recall in the foggiest why.

“In four beats,” Obi-Wan repeated and continued to rub circles on the top of Anakin’s hand delicately with his thumb. He focused on the touch, his gaze growing a bit bleary and hazy as he just watched Obi-Wan’s gloved hand move, his tough gentle and light. “Hold four, five, seven….and out one two three.”

They repeated several more times until they were completely in sync, breathing in time with one another, and Obi-Wan was no longer guiding the session. It was just them. As one. Two halves of the same whole.

Two halves of the same whole.

Kind of like the open circle fleet’s symbol.

Obi-Wan’s fleet.

Their fleet.

“It is time,” Obi-Wan said, breaking out of his train of thought. Anakin wished he had more time. He felt like he was getting somewhere. Not just with Obi-Wan, but with himself as well. He was supposed to realize something, he knew it. Something important. It would have to wait. “Do you feel better?” Obi-Wan asked.

It felt nice to be honest about it, and he nodded. “Yes, master.” He hadn’t remembered the last time something like this had helped. Really, he hadn’t remembered the last time he had even done something like this. Who told him that it wouldn’t help? Who told him that this was no longer a good thing? If someone like Obi-Wan was one to do it on a basis, someone as wise and good as him, would it not be good for Anakin as well?

He had so much more to think about.

“Then come, dear one,” Obi-Wan replied, gently. But there was a bit of an edge to it, something Anakin couldn’t quite identify. Perhaps it was just preparation on what was to come. Anakin didn’t really know if Obi-Wan felt something strong like he did about slavery, he doubted it. Obi-Wan hadn’t been a slave for any length of time, but that didn’t mean he had to like it either. The Jedi in general, were doing their best, even before the war, but it just wasn’t enough. With the restrictions in the senate, the illegal activities and simply their lack of numbers, there was only so much the jedi could do. Sometimes Anakin forgot that. “Go fetch your apprentice and meet me in the docking bay. We have a lot to do and an uncertain timetable,” he added. It was technically an order, but it hadn’t felt like it.

Resolute. Anakin nodded.

Ahsoka was raring to go, and they gathered a few soldiers to accompany them. No doubt Obi-Wan and Commander Cody were doing the same. Kix was anxious with the disappearance of Jesse and his other brothers and declared it would be best, in case either someone got hurt or they came across someone who was hurt. He was a good soldier and warrior anyways, even if he wasn’t a medic, Anakin probably would have brought him along. Appo was always a great addition. He was calm and smart, and he was good at keeping people together, although at the moment, they were all a little confused. Perhaps Obi-Wan had promoted him and didn’t tell him? He kept calling the sergeant, commander. It wasn’t completely out of character for Obi-Wan to promote someone and not tell them immediately. And then Dogma was with them as well. In their kerfuffle, he had just slid back into the 501st, looking over what had happened with Krell, keeping rather close to his commanders. Anakin wouldn’t hold it against him; he was trying to be loyal. He just had some bugs to work out, no big deal.

Several 212th boys were waiting with them, armed to the teeth and ready to fight. They had the same calm air that Obi-Wan usually carried around them with something else, as if they were chomping at the bit. Their eyes would darken into something violent and dangerous. This mission was personal. He could understand that. Anakin did realize most of them had been around their meditation study not a few hours prior. He remembered the way Obi-Wan had relaxed in their presence. He still hated that Obi-Wan had relaxed more with them than with Anakin himself, they were his troops, Anakin was his padawan, but he did comprehend something at least. Anakin had his go to’s and favorites, he supposed Obi-Wan did too.

It was an odd thing to think about.

Boarding the upcoming slave ship was rather easy. A single slave ship was no match for even one of the venator ships, much less two. The Negotiator and the Resolute boxed them quite easily and the gunships were off. And any crew of slavers was no match for a single squad of troopers, much less a squad led by a jedi.

Led by several jedi.

It didn’t mean the slaver did not try, however, because they did. Their efforts were a strange mix of amusing and annoying. They tried to shoot at them, threw smoke bombs and other small explosives. Closed normal and blast doors, others reinforced but no matter what, it wasn’t a match for the power and heat of their lightsabers. They could just burn through.

Anakin kept breathing.

He wouldn’t let his anger control him, not with Obi-Wan watching. He had so much to prove. He stayed rather close to his former master and Ahsoka ended up veering off with Master Vos. It wasn’t something that was particularly on his mind. He and Master Vos didn’t always get along but there was something he could trust him with, it was Ahsoka. After all, Master Vos had somehow raised someone as good as Aalya Secura, he must be somewhat decent.

Obi-Wan was…fighting different.

Anakin, he knew how Obi-Wan fought. They had sparred frequently, fought alongside one another constantly, Obi-Wan taught him and Anakin dared to think he had taught Obi-Wan a thing or two as well. They had always been well synced with one another, fighting together like one entity. Mostly because they had been fighting with other another for so long. And it wasn’t just in his padawanship, they were matched together often times during his knighthood too, during the war. Sure, Anakin was technically under Obi-Wan’s command, as the older jedi was a high general, but still, their groups meshed together well. The 501stand 212th worked seamlessly together, just like their generals did. At their best, together, they were an opponent to not be underestimated. One to be feared.

But here, now, it was different. He was different. It was not the same really, they weren’t quite as good. He shouldn’t say that. They were still fantastic, a foe and duo to be feared, undoubtedly, even with their step away from one another. But it wasn’t quite as right as Anakin knew it normally was. Not quite as in sync with each other’s moves as they were before. Oh, how things could change. In a day. Fifteen years. He didn’t like it.

Had it changed so suddenly? Or had this been a slow change? One that had been coming around?

Anakin had known Obi-Wan since he started seriously started practicing Soresu. It was a form he had mastered well. He knew that the older jedi had started off with Aratu, a form he had used against the Sith during the blockade of Naboo. Anakin had watched the security tapes over and over and over again. Many times. He had quickly after that switched over to another form. Anakin had watched as he weighed the pros and cons of each one before finally settling on Soresu, the defensive form. Anakin had asked him why once. He was so good at Aratu, even others had told him that. Obi-Wan had always just looked sad when it was brought up.

“There are so many holes in Aratu, nothing for defense,” he had said.

Anakin hadn’t completely understood it at the time. Of course, he had been ten at the time, so he didn’t really understand much but over time, he did sort of get it. Obi-Wan was haunted by the death of his master, his inability to protect him, although, looking over so many of the tapes so many times, Anakin knew there was nothing he could have done, even if Obi-Wan had been using Soresu during that period. He was trapped behind a barrier, alone.

Sometimes he wondered who was left alone. Had Obi-Wan just not been fast enough? Or had Qui-Gon just ran ahead, recklessly without heed?

Obi-Wan, turned out, was amazing at Soresu, and his demeanor shifted to accommodate that. He was patient and enduring. A good defensive form in contrast to Anakin’s own, more aggressive Shien form.

Soresu was built on defensive blocks and impenetrable shields, which Obi-Wan used to the fullest. It was possibly the most perfect fit for wartime, this wartime, especially against the blaster bolts they were constantly up against, as it was used to deflect and redirect attacks. It didn’t rely on raw power like some of the other forms, raw power that Anakin knew he himself had and Obi-Wan rather lacked.

But that did not make Obi-Wan any less dangerous.

But this…it was still Soresu, the one he was using now, was still identifiable, still the form, still a dance, still an impenetrable shield of defensive blocks…but there was something different about the way he moved. Technical. Mechanical. Something Anakin had never seen before

Soresu often times was criticized because of its lack of offensive attacks and strokes. What good was a defense if you could not defeat your enemy, only block them?

Anakin had thought that once. But he had seen Obi-Wan use that defense to defeat many enemies, including himself.

But this, what Obi-Wan was doing now, even though it was still Soresu, as Anakin could tell, but something was added. Something more raw and powerful, a bit more force behind actual blows that could take instead of just defend. It was Soresu but something was added, something Anakin had not really seen.

What had Obi-Wan done in the future?

He was further, just slightly out of sync with Anakin, a step forward. Was this a sign? Was he being left in the past? Had he lost Obi-Wan forever?

Obi-Wan had never been particularly cruel, sometimes even lacking efficiency in exchange for chance, for mercy and compassion. It had paid off on more than one occasion, even Anakin could admit that, as much as he wanted to just take people down. But that was not the case here. The Soresu master was a whirlwind – giving each of the slaver crew one chance and one chance only – if even that – to surrender and lay down arms. Of course, more often than not, they didn’t. Obi-Wan did not keep giving chances. He did not go out to kill either, Anakin could not imagine his old master doing that, but several slavers lost appendages and others incapacitated by other means. Some would not survive their wounds. Anakin found he didn’t mind.

Obi-Wan hadn’t even paused as he went through the halls, making a straight path to the bridge, where certainly the captain and his closest crew were holed up. They didn’t stand a chance. He barely gave Anakin time to redirect the power in the door to make it open before he went to strike his saber right through it. But when the door did open, he strode in, completely in charge, with a posture to match. There was an air of unyielding, of no chance at all. He did not care what they wanted, and he was not here to negotiate. He was here to take.

“Hello there,” he greeted, although his voice was hard and his tone rather bored with the entire scenario. The captain and a few others just stared, their hands on their weapons, pointed at them. Anakin smirked. “I am General Kenobi, and I am here to take over your ship and relieve you. You of the slaves.”

The captain tried to fight him. He charged and Anakin was all ready to fight back; with his saber at the ready to defend Obi-Wan and take the being down. But Obi-Wan put a gentle hand on his arm before spinning his saber, almost lazily. Anakin barely even saw it move. The captain was on the ground then, crumpled on the floor. Unconscious or dead, Anakin didn’t know. It didn’t matter.

“We must move quickly if we are to keep with the ship’s schedule,” he said and stepped over the slaver, away from him. The rest of the crew had surrendered, staring at their employer with such wide eyes, one might have thought they were no longer inhabiting their bodies. Anakin snarled at the slaver on the ground but bounced after his former master with renewed interest.

The cargo bay had quite a number of slaves in it, spreading several species and people. It was not a large ship by any means. It wasn’t as though Anakin had seen many ships, particularly, that were crowded with slaves, but there was a good dozen or two huddled together. They were cowering and kept to the walls, away from them, many chained to the walls. Obi-Wan just glanced at him, eyes soft and sympathetic and dragging him out to walk into the middle, with a translator droid hot on their heels, before tugging down for him to sit down with him. Anakin followed what he was doing.

Their level. Smaller, less threat. Taking off weapons and setting them away. Within sight of them so they could see. Everything laid bare, just like them.

“Frightened and scared beings act fairly universal,” Obi-Wan hummed under his breath, sad and tired.

He took a breath and told the droid to translate for any of the slaves who did not speak basic.

“My name is jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and we are here to help you,” he started, his voice gentle and kind, but loud enough for those who knew the language to hear it. Beside him, the droid called out in another language that Anakin wasn’t entirely sure he knew. “In a few minutes, you can be taken aboard a Republic cruiser, where your chips and collars will be deactivated and removed. You may eat and rest and will be given clothes. Troopers will come around to ask what you would like to do moving forward,” he gave a pause, allowing the droid to translate the passage. The slaves look tentative. “You may accompany my troopers to Coruscant where you will stay at the Jedi Temple until you can start new lives where you would like, contact families and home worlds if you have them or find a new place to settle.”

Anakin just stared at his master, silently. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting really. Was this it? Was this not? His head was swimming.

“Over there is Sergeant Barlex,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing beside him as he continued and the droid relayed the words, even pointing over to the clone as well. Anakin looked up and sure enough, several clone troopers stood by him, none of which had their weapons on them at the moment. He made a gesture, and the troopers removed their helmets, revealing their generally identical faces. Anakin stared at them, reaching out, as if he could just memorize them right here and right now. These were some of the troopers that Obi-Wan cared for, that he trusted and loved. Anakin should trust them too, at the very least. Because he did, to some extent, have to. Trust them with Obi-Wan’s life, especially when he was not around. “He and troopers Gearshift, Crys and Threepwood will be assisting you.”

Carefully and slowly, Anakin stood up and he walked over to one of the slaves, kneeling down in front of them, keeping his hands where they could see him and telegraphed his movements. He gave them some bread that he tucked away in his robe and handed out pieces for them to share. “There is plenty more where that came from,” he promised. He wasn’t entirely sure if they could understand his words, but they seemed to get his meaning.

“Please do be kind to them, Sergeant,” he heard Obi-Wan’s voice behind him.

“Of course, sir,” the trooper replied, curtly, but his voice was surprisingly understanding, and kind, despite the gruffness of it. “Keep yourself alive. And bring our kid back home, would you?”

Our kid? Anakin hadn’t known that some of the 212th troopers already knew Luke. Already knew him enough to like him, to be a bit rather protective. Was it that easy and simple to bond with them? Could Anakin have that with even Obi-Wan’s troops so effortlessly?

Obi-Wan nearly laughed. “Of course, sergeant. You quite like him, don’t you?”

Barlex shrugged as Anakin made his way back over to them, upon giving several slaves a few things of bread. He had kind of stuffed his pockets and robes and sleeves with them. Water wouldn’t have kept in the battle or a fight, but food was the next best thing. “He’s a good kid. Strong head on his shoulders. Calm, determined. Not a great listened, sneaking off with Lieutenant Waxer’s platoon but, well, it seems to run in the family.” He almost even sounded amused. That didn’t seem normal for the trooper from what he could tell.

Anakin’s former master snorted. “Ah, you have no idea, Sergeant,” he chuckled.

“We’ve got this, sir,” another trooped nodded next to him. “We will get all the people off the ship pronto so you and the others can move on schedule.”

Another nod. “Thank you, Threepwood.”

“Gearshift is rounding up the crew, preparing for departure.”

“Departure?” Anakin asked, curiously.

“Since we cannot technically free slaves and take down slavers due to the Chancellor’s emergency powers,” Obi-Wan growled, more than just a bit bitter. Anakin continued to be mildly surprised. He wondered why that was. “We will…ahem…convince and persuade them to abandon the people and scatter.”

“We cannot arrest them?” Anakin hissed.

“The Chancellor says he does not want to strain relationships with the Hutts and other powerful entities,” Quinlan Vos snorted as he and Anakin’s padawan walked up and united with them. She was practically bouncing, her eyes fiery with justice and a readiness to battle. “So, he’s been easy on their…employees and their occupation of choice.”

Anakin swallowed. That…could not be right.

That could not be right. No way that…

His thoughts were interrupted by Obi-Wan’s next words, his voice growing loud, as if he was trying to drown out Anakin’s thoughts. “Are there any other beings or things aboard that need to be moved?”

Anakin was technically paying attention, but his eyes were on the slaves that were gently being led by the troopers, sans their weapons, off the ship and towards the larger vessels. Someone had landed the Negotiator already, so the people were being led straight into the docking bay, away from the horrid place that was once a slave ship.

One of the troopers did have his weapon, but he was rounding up those that were obviously slavers and masters. Anakin stared at him for a long moment. The gear tattoo on him was interesting in some mundane, distracting way. It almost looked like was moving, like real gears.

“A few animals,” Ahsoka replied, easily. “Not any big ones, but a few small ones. Generally friendly.”

“Probably used as pets,” Obi-Wan mused. “Commander, can you get one of the boys to start hauling any living thing off as well? I don’t want to have to worry about any of them when we move on.”

Anakin imagined the trooper nodded but he was watching everything else instead.

“Anakin?”

He startled and turned around. Everyone was staring at him. “Huh?”

“I called your name a couple of times. Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked, still hesitant, but no less worried.

He frowned. “I can handle myself.”

“That is not in question,” his former master cleared his throat as he spoke carefully, like he wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. It almost made Anakin scowl because Obi-Wan had never been this uncertain about and around him before. It was incredibly frustrating. “But I know this situation is difficult for you and that is completely understandable. It is not a question of your ability, dear one.”

Anakin nearly melted right then and there. Obi-Wan froze, only for a brief second, as though he hadn’t realized he had said the sweet endearment. Had it been such a while since Obi-Wan had called him that? For him, he supposed, it had been fifteen years. For Anakin…had it been long? Why did he stop? Did he stop at all or did Anakin just stop paying attention?

“Anakin?”

He blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“Are you sure you want to go to Zygerria?”

“I went the last time, didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan hesitated and glanced away briefly before looking back straight at him. He looked so concerned. Was he worried that Anakin would fall apart right then and there? When Obi-Wan needed him in the heat of the middle of the mission? He wouldn’t, of course, and Obi-wan’s lack of faith disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Anakin wondered what had happened last time; if he had let Obi-Wan down in such a way. “Yes,” he replied, cautious and slow. “And suffice to say, it did not particularly end well on any notion of the time.”

“What happened?”

The older man swallowed and glanced at Master Vos. Anakin huffed. Of course, he knew. “Did you tell Master Vos?”

“No,” Obi-Wan mumbled. “He just knows me. We have been friends for quite some time, if you recall.” Oh, he could. “And aside from rescuing the colonists of Kiros, the mission before did not go particularly well. It was different than what we are doing now of course, but no one was put in a good position, least of all you.”

He wanted to bristle. He really did, but the look on Obi-Wan’s face made him stop. Something had changed. Maybe it was the look on his face or maybe it was the way Anakin was seeing that look on his face. Like, something he hadn’t quite noticed before. It was as if he could see what Luke was talking about. The grief, the infinite sadness. Had Anakin put that on him? It wasn’t pity, but rather empathy, of kindness and just wanting better for him, not about him.

Obi-Wan didn’t mean anything poorly by it, Anakin thought to himself and for some reason, that realization just floored him. He was just trying to protect him. Even if he didn’t want him to, even if Anakin could protect himself, Obi-Wan continued to do so. Was it really because Obi-Wan didn’t think he could do it himself, that he didn’t have the faith in Anakin’s abilities? Or was he just so used to it that it was just second nature. Obi-Wan had spent over ten years protecting him, teaching him. He supposed that wasn’t something he could just turn off. But then again, after all, wasn’t Anakin trying to do the same thing, all the time.

“I’ll be okay,” he vowed, walking back over to them and taking his place at Obi-Wan’s side before anyone else could snatch it from him, shooting a bit of a glare at Master Vos and the other troopers, pointedly trying to avoid Ahsoka so she would not see it. “And if I’m not, I will tell you.”

That surprised his former master, but his expression was quickly washed away by calm and pleasant gratitude. “Alright, I believe you.”

Anakin swallowed. He would not lie to Obi-Wan.

12 notes · View notes

katierosefun · 4 years ago

Text

rest now

or five times people used obi-wan kenobi as a pillow, and the one time everyone let themselves be obi-wan’s pillow. based on this post i made a little while back.

read on ao3 | read on ff

wc: 6732

1. Commander Cody

They were exhausted and battle worn, their armor cracked and coated with the dirt and dust of the battleground, but still, Obi-Wan and Cody stayed standing until the rest of the 212th were evacuated from the site. A bug buzzed somewhere near Obi-Wan’s neck, and he batted it away. The bugs were probably attracted to the sweat and the blood—not his—still dipping into the collar of his tunic.

He couldn’t wait to get off this planet.

He knew he wasn’t the only one.

Obi-Wan had only been working with Cody for a few weeks now, but already, he had grown accustomed to the commander’s demeanor. Quiet and steady, Cody hadn’t so much as faltered at the battles that they had gone into. A part of Obi-Wan worried at that—grew wary at the case with which Cody, along with so many other men, could go into war seemingly without a second thought.

Or maybe not completely without a second thought, Obi-Wan thought now as the last shuttle dropped in front of Cody and himself. Now that all the 212th had left, Obi-Wan sensed the fractures in Cody’s own mask of calm.

They wordlessly got on the shuttle, the doors shutting out the heat and the bugs. For a moment, all Obi-Wan saw was darkness—and then the lights inside the shuttle flickered on, and then they were taking off, leaving the blasted dusty planet behind.

Obi-Wan let out a breath as the shuttle ascended into the atmosphere. Somewhere up there, he knew that they would get into the cruiser, and then Obi-Wan would probably find Anakin and Ahsoka, probably just as batter-worn from their own share of the fight. Obi-Wan would have to go to the debriefing after checking with his men—his men, something he still couldn’t quite get used to.

A burst of cool air from the shuttle’s ventilation system dried the remaining sweat on Obi-Wan’s face. He swiped an arm over his forehead. A shower. He wouldn’t mind a shower right after the meeting, either, even if the idea of staying awake and upright for any longer than he had to felt like another battle on its own.

But he would bear it, just as he had everything in the last few weeks.

He had only just completed that thought when he felt something drop against his shoulder. Obi-Wan looked down and made out the top of his commander’s helmet. He paused, unsure what exactly to—how exactly would he—

Obi-Wan half-expected Cody to bolt awake, and he angled his head slightly away to avoid the oncoming jerk against his chin—but Cody stayed fast asleep, his breathing deep and even within the helmet.

And Obi-Wan could feel the weariness radiating off his commander, the bone-deep kind of weariness that came with perhaps too many days of fighting and not enough rest.

So Obi-Wan turned back towards to the viewport. He inhaled slowly, so as to not even let his breath disturb Cody’s rest. They would get into the cruiser in a few minutes, anyways. Obi-Wan decided, with a slight, wistful smile on his face, that he would grant his commander these few minutes of peace before the next storm.

2. Padmé Amidala

“Thank you for the meal, Bail,” Obi-Wan said as he helped the senator move the dishes into the kitchen.

“You’re welcome,” Bail replied. He took the plates from Obi-Wan��s hands and jerked his head into the sitting room. “You sit down. Guests aren’t allowed to do the dishes.”

“You know I don’t—”

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t mind—go.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but he lifted his hands in mock surrender before walking out of the kitchen. He found Padmé and Anakin already in the sitting room, their heads bent low near each other’s—and then quickly parting as Obi-Wan made his steps heard.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said loudly, his face flushed with either the alcohol or something else, Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure. Watching Anakin’s eyes dart quickly over to Padmé, Obi-Wan changed his mind. He decided the faint pink in his former apprentice’s face was definitley due to something other than alcohol.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan only replied, sitting down on the couch beside Padmé.

The senator and he exchanged a brief smile, and though Padmé’s face, too, was just a tad brighter than a few minutes before, the senator’s face remained neutral as she said, “I see that Bail finally managed to get you out of the kitchen.”

“He practically chased me out,” Obi-Wan said, ignoring the bark of laughter from the kitchen.

“Well, given your track record, I would think that chasing was a bit necessary,” Padmé replied. “Don’t you think, Anakin?”

“Absolutely,” Anakin replied, and though the color in his face was dying down, Obi-Wan still noticed the shine in Anakin’s eyes as he fixed his attention back on Padmé. It was almost enough for Obi-Wan to start shaking his head right there—really, Anakin was terrible at keeping secrets. Padmé and Anakin both were, but Obi-Wan had neither the capacity nor the desire to protest against their manners.

He briefly wondered if that made him a bad Jedi, quietly turning blind in this moment—but he quickly shoved those thoughts away.

Obi-Wan was relieved when Bail finally walked into the sitting room, glasses in hand. He set them down on the table and passed one automatically to Obi-Wan, and then the conversation slowly turned to talk of politics and home worlds and speeder models and a holodrama that Bail and Padmé had apparently started watching.

Obi-Wan was glad to let the conversation wash over him, glad to just smile and offer the occasional quip or question. He leaned back against the couch, leaving his glass three-quarters of the way drained, his head only slightly buzzing with the alcohol. His whole body felt comfortably warm otherwise, and through his own haze, he noticed that Anakin had only taken a few sips from his own glass. When Anakin caught Obi-Wan looking, he only grinned and mouthed, driving.

Obi-Wan smiled and let his head fall back against the couch cushions as the conversation dulled down further, until it was just Bail and Anakin talking—Bail, still very much awake and cheerfully carrying conversation with Anakin about the latest updates on whatever new speeder model had come out.

While Padmé…at some point, Padmé had gone quiet, and only when her head fell on his shoulder did Obi-Wan realize that the senator had fallen asleep. Obi-Wan lifted his head to look first at Anakin and then Bail in silent question, but without even breaking from the conversation, Bail reached over for one of the throw blankets on one of the couches and tossed it to Anakin.

And Anakin, still not breaking from conversation, only heaped the blanket over Padmé’s sleeping form. Obi-Wan managed to catch Anakin’s eyes a second time—and found, with some curiosity, that he felt some strange relief in the smirk Anakin tossed Obi-Wan’s way.

Deciding that he didn’t want to decipher that smirk, Obi-Wan slowly, carefully re-settled back on the couch and only re-adjusted the blanket around Padmé’s shoulders before leaving her to sleep on his shoulder.

3. Satine Kryze

“I should have known you’d be here.”

Satine lifted her head from her book. Night had completely fallen over Mandalore, the distant lights of the city and the moon being the only source of brightness in the otherwise sleeping planet. A small pool of moonlight encircled Satine now as she stood up, closing her book.

“Obi-Wan,” she said. “I thought you would be sleeping by now.”

Obi-Wan dipped his head towards Satine. “The excitements of the day haven’t quite worn me out, I’m afraid.”

“Ah.” Satine settled the book against her front. She sat back down on the grass. “Care to join me?”

Obi-Wan glanced around the courtyard. He had been in this place before, in the last few days he had on Mandalore, back those years ago. Satine and he had explored some of the courtyards, and this one had been one of their favorites. Smaller than the others, a little more secluded. A pond was somewhere nearby, bubbling with only some of the fish that dared flick their tails above water. A tree swaying with a warm breeze that could only somehow be carried in this section of the palace. With the breeze, Obi-Wan caught the scents of the courtyard: grass, some nighttime flowers, and Satine.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Obi-Wan only asked, walking into the courtyard. He sat down next to Satine, who only gave him a brief smile. “What are you reading?”

She lifted the book. “A childhood favorite of mine,” she replied somewhat wistfully. “Although I’m afraid the story isn’t quite as captivating as it once was. A consequence of no longer being a child, I suppose.”

“Different times, different tastes,” Obi-Wan replied conversationally. He tilted his head towards the book. “I would still like to know what it’s about.”

“Well,” Satine said, handing the book to Obi-Wan, “it’s all rather dramatic, if you must know.”

“Is it now,” Obi-Wan said, amused. The book was lighter than Obi-Wan expected. He could feel the slight wear on the spine, the cover as he flipped it open. The pages were slightly curled with age and years of use.

“It’s about two eventual lovers,” Satine said, a smile curling over her lips. “Separated by a conflict between their own families, although we never learn what exactly that conflict was.” She shrugged, leaning back down against the grass. “An unhappy tale, really.”

Obi-Wan looked down at Satine, at those clear eyes of hers reflecting back the night sky. “How so?”

“Well,” Satine murmured, folding her hands against her stomach, “the lovers both die in the end, although neither had to.” She nodded to the volume in Obi-Wan’s hand. “The girl fakes her death, and thinking that she truly is dead, the boy kills himself. The girl wakes, and upon seeing her lover dead, she kills herself as well.” She turned back up to the sky. “Truly horrible.”

Obi-Wan looked down at the book. “And this was a childhood favorite?”

“Don’t laugh,” Satine said. “I used to think it was romantic. Used to.”

“And now?”

Satine looked at Obi-Wan and laughed. “Now I think it’s rather silly,” she replied. “A tutor of mine once explained that the author might have written this story as a mockery of love rather than a true expression of it. I’m rather inclined to agree.”

“An interesting interpretation,” Obi-Wan said. He flipped over to the first page and, clearing his throat, read, “Two households, both alike in dignity—”

“What are you doing?” Satine asked, propping herself up on an elbow.

“Well, you said this was a childhood favorite,” Obi-Wan replied lightly. “I might as well see why.”

“Obi-Wan—”

“As I was saying—in fair Verona, where we lay our scene…”

Satine only huffed and settled back down on the grass. “Impossible,” she said. “That’s what you are.”

“Now, don’t interrupt Duchess, I’m already rather intrigued.”

Satine laughed again, and Obi-Wan made it through the entire prologue before he, too, settled down on the grass beside the duchess. He was aware of how their heads were brushing against each other, the rise and fall of Satine’s chest, the occasional sigh as he read on. He read until his voice was little more than a murmur, and he had read up until the fifth scene of the first act before he felt Satine’s head nestle against the crook between his shoulder and neck.

Obi-Wan’s voice stuttered for a moment, and he looked down to find Satine’s face buried against him, her expression content. She let out a soft sigh, and Obi-Wan took that as a signal to keep reading, his voice growing softer and softer until he was doing little more than just mouthing the words.

But he had completely forgotten about what he was reading, and only when he actually got to the ending did he remember where they were.

Obi-Wan looked down at Satine, still asleep.

He brushed a strand of her hair back. She shivered a little, the rest of her face disappearing into Obi-Wan’s neck.

Obi-Wan smiled. “You’re right, my dear,” he said quietly. “That was a horrible ending.”

4. Ahsoka Tano

“I just don’t understand,” Ahsoka huffed from across the table. She was clicking through documents on the computer, her eyes already glazed from the screen. “Master Skywalker agrees that I learn better on the field than I do with these lessons.”

“I’m sure he does,” Obi-Wan murmured, adjusting the brightness on the computer screen. The Archives had gotten considerably darker, and though the lights adjusted accordingly, the computers unfortunately did not. Obi-Wan’s eyesight wasn’t getting any better, either. He swiped a hand across his eyes before re-focusing on the screen.

“I just don’t understand,” Ahsoka repeated. “We’re fighting a war. Why do I need to know about this stuff? It’s not like a droid is going to ask me to recite philosophy before shooting me.”

“Padawan.”

“Yes, Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka asked, ducking her head around the computer. She blinked with comical innocence at Obi-Wan. And Obi-Wan only shook his head. A part of him wanted to smile—Ahsoka reminded him so much of Anakin in some ways, especially with that cheerful look she gave him now. But another part of him couldn’t help but feel a kick to his chest—there was something so incredibly strange and wrong about hearing a child so casually talk of being targeted on the battlefield.

Then again, the war had changed what childhood meant for so many, and the Jedi were not exempt from such changes.

“Focus on your studies,” Obi-Wan only said, looking back at his computer. Ignoring Ahsoka’s groan, Obi-Wan added, “You may not need to recite philosophy for a droid, but you will need to sharpen all parts of your mind.”

“My mind’s already sharpened,” Ahsoka mumbled.

“Then sharpen it more.”

Ahsoka groaned again, but she didn’t argue. The evening sounds of the Archives slowly filled the long room: the rustle of robes and cloaks, the scrape of chairs being pushed out or pushed in, the buzz of the lamps, the whir of a droid somewhere down the hall.

Obi-Wan had lost himself in the near-silence of the Archives before he suddenly became aware that Ahsoka was no longer clicking or typing on her computer.

“Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan called, ducking around the computer.

And he found Ahsoka with her head resting against a propped-up hand, lips slightly parted against her palm.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself. He glanced out the windows, knowing even before he found the dark sky that night had completely fallen. They had been in the Archives for many hours now, and frankly, despite Ahsoka’s complaining, the girl had lasted longer than Obi-Wan had figured she would. That would be something Obi-Wan would have to tell Anakin once he got back from his mission.

Obi-Wan pushed himself out of his chair and after shutting off his own computer, made his way around to Ahsoka’s side.

A few books were still scattered around the computer, some half-open, others with pages still fluttering against some phantom breeze. Obi-Wan closed those books and pushed them to the side, stacking them neatly by the organization system the Archives called for. Then he leaned across the desk to shut down Ahsoka’s computer. He found the philosophy text still up on the screen. Ahsoka had gotten through perhaps three-quarters of the way before falling asleep. Which was impressive, Obi-Wan figured, for someone who so clearly hated philosophy.

Obi-Wan shut off the computer and looked down at Ahsoka. She was still asleep, her hand still holding up her head.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder. He shook it once, just enough for Ahsoka to stir. “Perhaps you should sleep in a more comfortable place.”

Ahsoka, her eyes glazed over with sleep, only blinked owlishly at Obi-Wan. She rubbed a fist over her eyes, and Obi-Wan became painfully aware of how young she truly was. Fourteen years old—still a little older than most younglings who became Padawans, but still unbearably young for someone about to be launched into a war.

“Okay,” Ahsoka murmured, and she started up from her chair, only to plop right back down, eyes already fluttering shut. “’m tired.” Her voice was small, plaintive—a tone that Obi-Wan had not heard Ahsoka use ever.

“Here,” Obi-Wan said, and gently, he tugged Ahsoka up by the wrists. “To your quarters now.” He directed themselves away from the desks, but before he could fully get them to the main corridor of the Archives, Ahsoka’s head bumped against Obi-Wan’s chest, her eyes still closed.

“Ahsoka—”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ahsoka mumbled, stepping backwards. She blinked a few more times, crashing against the back of one of the chairs. “Sorry.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be concerned. “Are you alright?”

“’m fine,” Ahsoka said, rubbing her fist over her eyes again. “Just…” She took a small step away from the chair, towards Obi-Wan—and stumbled again.

Tired—she must have been more tired than she had been letting on, Obi-Wan noted as Ahsoka sat back down on the chair, her head resting against its back. Another pang went through Obi-Wan’s chest. The girl held much of her strength like a shield around herself everyone carried a shield around themselves these days, Jedi and non-Jedi alike—and now, apparently, the young as well as the old.

Obi-Wan sighed. Then, sinking down in front of Ahsoka, he guided her arms around his shoulders, found the back of her legs and hoisted themselves up.

Ahsoka’s head bobbed against Obi-Wan’s shoulder, her hands dangling in front of him.

“Master?” Ahsoka mumbled, her feet knocking lightly against the sides of Obi-Wan’s legs. “What’re you…”

“We can’t have you stumbling around the halls, now, can we?” Obi-Wan only said. He swiveled his back just enough to give Ahsoka a small smile. “Rest, young one.”

Ahsoka hummed a little, her head falling against Obi-Wan’s shoulder once more.

And Obi-Wan carried Ahsoka all the way back to her quarters.

5. Anakin Skywalker

“Have you seen Anakin?”

“He was by the cliffs, sir,” Rex replied, gesturing back to where a cluster of troopers still stood. Obi-Wan stood up and, narrowing his eyes, he indeed spotted the one spot of black clothing, and then the bright flash of a blue saber.

“What is he doing?” Obi-Wan asked, more to himself than to Rex.

“Leading the sweep on the last few droids,” Rex replied. “I only just came back from my half of the sweep.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at that still-swinging slash of blue. “He’s hurt,” he said.

“I tried to tell him,” Rex said.

Obi-Wan gave Rex a dry smile. “I’m sure you did, Captain,” he replied. “Not to worry—Anakin tends to be stubborn.”

Rex smiled back, but it quickly faded as the two men turned their attention back on Anakin. “If he’s hurt, then—”

“Not to worry,” Obi-Wan repeated, already swinging down from the low platform. He looked up to Rex. “Just be prepared when I finally bring him back. Make sure Kix is available.”

“Yes, sir,” Rex replied, and he hurried off in a flash of white and blue.

Which left Obi-Wan to Anakin.

He turned around and made his way through the battle-worn grounds, pointedly walking around droid parts and fallen blasters. The closer he walked, the louder Anakin’s lightsaber and the other troopers’ blaster fire became until even the sounds of the bugs and the other critters of the planet were drowned out by the action.

Obi-Wan found Anakin quickly. Hair plastered to the back of his neck, face pale but eyes and cheeks bright, a confident swagger in his step even when clearly injured—Anakin was the glowing image of the Hero with No Fear that Chancellor Palpatine had instilled for the Republic. The image and the title didn’t sit well with Obi-Wan—he barely liked the title instilled on him (The Negotiator, as though he were a character in a story), but looking at Anakin’s bold movements and bright smile, Obi-Wan could understand where at least his former apprentice’s new title came from.

“That’s the last of them, boys!” Anakin said now, just as Obi-Wan heard the dull clatter of what he could have only assumed was the destroyed battle droids. Obi-Wan felt both relief and pride radiating off the cluster of troopers, off Anakin.

And then Anakin’s eyes found Obi-Wan’s, and he grinned, shutting off his lightsaber. “You’re a little late for the party, Master,” he said. “We’ve taken care of it.”

“Yes, I can tell,” Obi-Wan said. “Well done.” He weaved through the troopers until he reached Anakin at last. Up this close, Obi-Wan could make out the individual beads of sweat rolling down the side of Anakin’s face, his neck. The slight heave of his chest as he tried to keep his breathing even. Obi-Wan flicked his gaze down to Anakin’s side. Even without touching him, he could sense the damage done.

Anakin’s eyes followed Obi-Wan’s, the smile fading from his face. He subtly moved away, clipping his lightsaber to his side. “Right,” he said loudly. “Back to the ships, men.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

Obi-Wan waited until the troopers had all left before saying, “You should know better.”

“I’m fine,” Anakin said automatically, but now that the troopers were gone, Obi-Wan could hear the slight strain in his friend’s voice. “It’s not even that bad.” He took a few steps forward—shuffled, more like, and that was when Obi-Wan knew that the situation was much worse than he had originally thought.

“Anakin, wait—”

But Anakin was sliding down from the ledge, and for a moment, he stayed upright.

Obi-Wan slipped down the ledge next to Anakin just as he started swaying, one hand reaching for his side.

“Anakin—”

Anakin’s face tightened as he leaned back against the rock ledge. Obi-Wan reached for Anakin automatically, catching him by the arm just as Anakin started to slide down. “Probably shouldn’t have…done that,” Anakin ground out through clenched teeth.

“You shouldn’t have,” Obi-Wan agreed, winding an arm gingerly around Anakin’s side. Though he kept his own touches light, he felt the flare of pain underneath—fractured ribs. Multiple. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply.

“It’s not that bad,” Anakin mumbled, but the reediness in his voice suggested otherwise. “I can walk back.”

“Clearly, you can’t,” Obi-Wan replied. “I can call Kix—he’ll bring a stretcher.”

Anakin let out a breath, sinking directly into Obi-Wan’s side—which was another sure sign that the injuries must have been more painful than usual, because Anakin never gave himself away, not like this. So Obi-Wan only re-adjusted his grip on Anakin and suggested, “We should sit down first.”

Anakin nodded mutely, and with that, the two settled back down on the dirt.

“Kix,” Obi-Wan said into his comm.

“Yes, General.”

“General Skywalker is injured,” Obi-Wan said as Anakin’s head lolled against his shoulder. Obi-Wan glanced over at Anakin. His eyes were drifting shut, whether from the pain or exhaustion, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure. All the same, Obi-Wan’s chest tightened as a shudder ran through Anakin’s body. “We will need a stretcher.”

“Yes, General.”

With that, Obi-Wan turned towards Anakin. His former apprentice’s eyes were completely closed now, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Obi-Wan could feel the damp of Anakin’s hair, his warm breath against his skin.

And then Anakin’s head rolled past Obi-Wan’s shoulder, causing both Obi-Wan and Anakin to startle.

“Sorry,” Anakin mumbled, opening his eyes. “I didn’t—” He started to move upright but stopped mid-motion, a low groan leaving his lips.

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan said, setting a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. Anakin relaxed under Obi-Wan’s hand. “Rest.”

Anakin huffed out a breath. “You’re never going to let me hear the end of this, are you?”

“Never,” Obi-Wan replied with a brief smile. He guided Anakin towards himself. “It might do you better to lie down with your ribs the way they are. It’ll make getting on the stretcher easier as well.”

Anakin huffed out another breath—one that sounded more like a laugh, but he managed a small nod. He started to lower himself to the ground, wincing at even that slight movement. Obi-Wan kept his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, murmuring encouragements until Anakin’s head was right on Obi-Wan’s lap.

“You’re definitley not going to let me hear the end of this,” Anakin mumbled, his eyes already closing.

“No,” Obi-Wan agreed, resting his head against the rock ledge. He saw troopers still hustling on the platform in the distance, and above that, the now darkening sky. Obi-Wan saw some stars glimmer into existence—just the earliest, brightest ones as the sun’s last yellow rays hushed themselves over the horizon.

Obi-Wan heard a small sigh, and when he looked down, he found that Anakin’s eyes had closed completely.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, brushing back a strand of still-damp hair from Anakin’s forehead. And then he looked back up at the darkening sky, where he found two bright stars winking down at him.

+1.

It was a universally known fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi needed sleep.

Which was why today, everyone was staring at Obi-Wan Kenobi like he had just grown a pair of wings, because he was asleep. And sleeping on Commander Cody’s shoulder, no less.

Cody only stared at the rest of the troopers in front of him in silent panic. But they only watched with mild amusement as the gunship landed down on Coruscant. The flight had been smooth, thankfully, and perhaps it being too smooth had been the reason why the general of the 212th had chosen that specific time to doze off.

Not that Cody necessarily minded. It was no secret that Kenobi was exhausted, and they had been running operations for seemingly weeks on end. This temporary leave had come as a relief to all.

Still, Cody wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do, now that Obi-Wan was at his shoulder. Cody expected that the man would wake soon, probably jerk up the minute the gunship doors opened, but he did nothing of the sort. Cody wasn’t sure if that made him relieved or not. Because on the one hand, the general truly did need his sleep, but on the other—

“Got something there, Cody?”

Cody only gestured a finger to his lips as a signal to keep Rex’s voice down.

But the captain only grinned. “How’d that happen?” he asked, nodding at Obi-Wan, still fast asleep.

“I don’t know,” Cody replied quietly, not trusting himself to raise his voice any louder without waking the general. “Should I…” He glanced down at Obi-Wan, and then glanced back at Rex. “I don’t know if I should wake him.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Rex replied. “He probably needs the rest.” He looked over his shoulder, and Cody followed the captain’s gaze to where a few senators were speaking amongst each other. They technically didn’t have to be there—Cody knew that they only came to boost morale, but still, he saw a semi-familiar face amongst that small group.

“Senator Amidala is a friend of his,” Rex said. “I’m sure she could help.”

Before Cody could say anything else, Rex walked away and returned with the warm-eyed senator.

“Commander,” Padmé said, tilting her head in a nod.

“Senator,” Cody replied. He didn’t really know the senator, but the minute Padmé smiled at Obi-Wan, Cody decided that he trusted her.

“I see you’re in a bit of a situation,” Padmé said.

“Not a situation, Senator,” Cody replied. “Not too much trouble.”

“Yes,” Padmé said, amused. “I see.” She looked backwards, nodding to where a speeder waited. “I’m about to head back to the Senate Building—and that’s a bit closer to the Temple from here. I would be glad to take him there.”

“We wouldn’t want to trouble—”

“It’s no trouble, Commander,” Padmé said, that smile of hers returning.

Cody exchanged a look with Rex, who just shrugged.

“If you say so, Senator,” Cody said, and with that, Padmé came around to Obi-Wan’s other side. Again, Cody expected Obi-Wan to wake, but he didn’t so much as stir as Padmé wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist. The warm weight of Obi-Wan’s head left Cody’s shoulder, and Padmé nodded once again to Cody and Rex.

“Have a nice day, gentlemen,” she said, and then she turned, supporting Obi-Wan to the speeder.

And Padmé, like Cody, didn’t terribly mind the fact that Obi-Wan was leaning against her, nor did she terribly mind Obi-Wan’s head on her shoulder as she started up the speeder. He only stirred awake at the grumble of the speeder, his eyes blinking open briefly.

“Where…” he started to murmur, but then he blinked at his surroundings: the blurring skyscrapers of Coruscant, the glow of the lights both above and below. And then, clearly reassured that there was no danger, Obi-Wan dropped his head back against Padmé’s shoulder.

Padmé only laughed quietly to herself, mentally noting the moment as something to tell Anakin later. He probably wouldn’t believe her even if she told him. So Padmé pressed on, taking care not to run into any of the rougher-trafficked lanes. She technically could have been escorted, and that might have made being in a speeder easier, but Padmé had wanted the freedom. And besides, she was grateful for that now.

Only just as the Senate Building came into view, Padmé’s speeder blinked a light to warn her that its fuel was running out.

She murmured a soft curse at the alert. She should have probably checked before taking this speeder out to begin with. She looked up to the Senate Building and then back to the little alert. She probably had just enough fuel to get her to the Senate, but then—

Padmé sighed. She felt Obi-Wan stir at her side, and she stilled, hoping that the man didn’t sense any of her own annoyance at the speeder. So she steered her speeder all the way to the platform of the Senate Building, her mind already running with possibilities of exactly who to notify about the empty fuel tank when she saw a familiar flash of blue from the distance.

“Duchess,” Padmé said, lifting her head, careful to still not wake Obi-Wan.

“Senator,” Satine said, stopping short in front of the speeder. If the guards behind Satine or the duchess herself found something strange about the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi was sleeping on Padmé’s shoulder, they didn’t show it. Well—the guards didn’t show it. Padmé didn’t miss the way Satine’s eyes softened at the sight of Obi-Wan, nor did Padmé miss the slight flicker of concern across the duchess’ face. “Did something—”

“He’s fine,” Padmé said quickly. “Just tired. He fell asleep.” She gave Satine an embarrassed smile. “I meant to return him to the Temple, but it seems my speeder’s not quite up for the challenge.” She gave her speeder a rueful pat on the controls before asking, “Would you mind…”

“Of course not,” Satine said. “I was just about to go for a drive around the city, anyways.”

“Wonderful,” Padmé said, relieved. She started to rise from the speeder, but this time, Obi-Wan awoke, his eyes prying open fully.

A few awkward moments passed before Obi-Wan asked, “What happened?”

“You fell asleep,” Padmé said simply. “You were with Cody, and I offered to take you to the Temple, only my speeder…” She grimaced and turned to Satine. “Luckily, Duchess Satine was willing to help.”

Obi-Wan only blinked a few times, still clearly trying to escape the throes of a deep sleep. “I wouldn’t want to trouble anyone,” he said, swiping a hand over his eyes. “Really, I’m…” He started to get out of the speeder, but not before his foot got caught on something. Padmé pulled him back before he could fall on his face.

“Yes, of course, Master Jedi,” Padmé said, ignoring the wounded look Obi-Wan threw her way. “Duchess?”

“Of course,” Satine said, and she stepped forward, extending a hand towards Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan looked down at Satine’s hand warily and then, taking it, he stepped out of the speeder. Padmé didn’t miss the slight flush creeping up Obi-Wan’s cheeks, nor did she miss the identical shade of pink creeping up Satine’s own face. Padmé happily decided that perhaps the speeder running out of fuel was a good thing instead.

“Good night, Duchess, Master Kenobi!” Padmé called.

Satine only tossed Padmé a smile over her shoulder, and then Padmé watched Obi-Wan and Satine start for their own speeder. Satisfied, Padmé hopped down from her speeder and decided to make a call about refilling the fuel tank.

In the meantime, Satine guided Obi-Wan to the speeder, and the two settled in the backseat as the guards settled in the front. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke, not as the speeder rumbled to life. Satine kept her eyes ahead, focusing instead on the glint of the skyscrapers against the setting sun. As the speeder picked up into the air, a warm breeze swept over them.

And then they were off, taking for the Jedi Temple on the other side of the city. Satine let her gaze drift from the skyscrapers to the lines of speeders below her, and then to the sun setting over the horizon. She was all too aware of Obi-Wan’s warmth beside her, the calm of his presence.

Still—Satine needed to be still, even though a part of her was overwhelmingly relieved that he had returned. A senseless war: that was what had somehow tied their paths together again, and Satine wished that the circumstances were different, but at the same time—

She would be returning to Mandalore in a while yet, and she supposed she was grateful for the time they had still.

And suddenly, Satine felt a weight settle on her shoulder.

Satine didn’t dare look down at Obi-Wan as he shifted against her, a soft sigh leaving his lips. Satine only kept her eyes straight ahead, daring her guards to say anything. But they didn’t react, didn’t so much as blink as Obi-Wan turned his face into Satine’s shoulder, his forehead bumping against the base of Satine’s neck.

Satine was selfishly glad that the speeder ride was smooth. A part of her knew that she should probably wake Obi-Wan, probably gently direct him away, but—

Well, that selfish part of her remained.

And only when the speeder landed in front of the Temple did Satine bring herself to stir. She was sorry for it, but then she heard—

“Master Kenobi?”

Satine looked up to find a young girl standing up from the Temple steps, her brows furrowing. The girl looked from Obi-Wan to Satine, her brows furrowing even more, but she ducked her head into a quick bow. “Duchess Kryze.”

Ahsoka Tano, Satine remembered. She had seen the girl only a few times, mostly accompanying Anakin Skywalker. She couldn’t have been much older than fourteen, fifteen, but she was yet another one of the children involved in the war. But she was a friend of Obi-Wan’s—that much, Satine also knew.

“Good evening,” Satine said, bowing her head. She gestured to Obi-Wan. “Would you know where his quarters are? I was only helping him get to the Temple.”

“Of course,” Ahsoka said, the girl’s lips twitching into a smile. “Is he…” She nodded at Obi-Wan, whose head was starting to slip from Satine’s shoulder.

“He was only sleeping,” Satine replied, gently bringing Obi-Wan’s head up to keep him from slipping entirely. “Nothing more than that.”

“Master Kenobi, sleeping?” Ahsoka asked, eyes widening. Then, quieter, “That’s a first.”

Satine decided that she liked this girl. She smiled, and Ahsoka smiled back.

“Don’t worry, Duchess,” she said. “I’ll make sure he gets his way around.”

“Thank you,” Satine replied, as the guard opened the speeder door. And with careful hands, Satine guided Obi-Wan over to Ahsoka. For one so small, the girl surprisingly kept both Obi-Wan and herself steady, even as she stepped themselves away from the speeder.

“I’m Ahsoka, by the way,” the girl said. “Ahsoka Tano.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ahsoka Tano,” Satine replied. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Duchess,” Ahsoka said cheerfully. And then she waved as the speeder started up, and Satine waved back until the Temple was out of her line of vision.

And when the speeder had disappeared, Ahsoka, too, turned around. She readjusted her grip around Obi-Wan’s side. She looked over at the man’s face and couldn’t help but laugh to herself. She wished she could take a picture. But she supposed she would just have to settle with memorizing this moment instead, everything from the nearly-darkened sky to the rustle of their clothes to Obi-Wan’s quiet sounds of protest as they walked through the halls.

The cool of air from the Temple rushed over them both, and Obi-Wan shivered slightly beside Ahsoka. She only adjusted his cloak around himself before walking on, nodding casually to some passing younglings. She couldn’t help but smile at their temporary awe and also disbelief at seeing Ahsoka supporting Obi-Wan through the halls. A sight, she was sure.

Ahsoka guided Obi-Wan’s arm over her shoulders for better support as they rounded a corner. Obi-Wan stirred lightly then, mumbling, “’soka—”

“That’s right,” Ahsoka said, rolling her shoulders. “You’re a lot heavier than you look, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan started to shift against Ahsoka, but she only said, “We’re almost to your quarters, though.”

A small sound of disbelief. “When…”

“Just a little while ago,” Ahsoka replied, keeping her voice nonchalant. “Duchess Kryze dropped you off.” She paused, giving her next words only a second of consideration before adding, “You were sleeping on her shoulder.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open at that. “Was…”

“Oh, she didn’t seem to mind,” Ahsoka replied. She saw Obi-Wan’s door in the distance. She patted Obi-Wan’s arm twice in some reassurance as she added, “I think she was actually smiling. I think she’s nice.”

Obi-Wan only mumbled something that Ahsoka couldn’t quite make out—which was impressive, considering she was right under Obi-Wan’s mouth. “Anyways,” Ahsoka continued as they came closer to the door, “I’m glad that you got some sleep, Master. You looked exhausted.” She managed to break her hand away enough to wave open the door.

They ducked into Obi-Wan’s quarters—only it wasn’t empty.

“Is he okay?” Anakin asked, jumping up from the desk. “I got a call from Rex that—”

“He’s just tired,” Ahsoka said, disentangling Obi-Wan’s arm from her shoulder. Obi-Wan swayed a little, but then Anakin was at Obi-Wan’s other side, catching him by the shoulder. “Really tired. I don’t even think he’s actually awake right now.”

Anakin looked down at Obi-Wan, who only blinked wearily up at him.

Anakin smiled. “Well, look at that,” he said, and Obi-Wan sighed, resting his head against Anakin’s shoulder.

“I’ve got it from here, Snips,” Anakin said, looking at Ahsoka. “I’ll make sure he actually stays asleep.”

“Sounds good,” Ahsoka said, grinning. Then, whispering, she added, “Good night, Master Kenobi!”

And then she was gone, the door sliding shut behind her.

So Anakin settled both Obi-Wan and himself on the bed. Careful not to let Obi-Wan slide forward, Anakin slipped off Obi-Wan’s boots, unfastened the armor. All the while, Obi-Wan remained asleep, only mumbling only the occasional complaint.

Anakin only smiled to himself, setting the boots and the armor down on the ground. “Look at that,” he repeated. “You can sleep.”

“I can hear you,” Obi-Wan mumbled against Anakin’s shoulder.

Anakin settled an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I was counting on it,” he said quietly. He gave Obi-Wan’s shoulder a quick squeeze, and then he slid away, guiding Obi-Wan’s head back to an actual pillow. He heard a sigh, and then Anakin brought the blankets over his former master, letting it settle right over Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

Obi-Wan’s eyes opened just a little, the deep grey-blue shining up at Anakin in the otherwise dim room. “I should finish the reports,” he only mumbled.

“Don’t even think about it,” Anakin said, settling down on the floor next to Obi-Wan’s bed. He rested his head back against the mattress. “Just go to sleep, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan slept.

#tcw #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #sw #swtcw #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #padme amidala #satine kryze #commander cody #my fic #wow i really thought this was just gonna be 2k words hA I WAS WRONG--

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everythinggeeky · 5 years ago

Text

The Fall | Anakin Skywalker

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi! reader

Warnings: NONE! the angst,

Word Count: 2.9k

Request: okay hear me out. request where the reader is cozy with Anakin with Ahsoka for her mission and when order 66 is executed, meaning she goes through all of that with the clones and the ship crashing but she doesn’t know it’s Anakin’s doing and then maybe Ahsoka tells the reader what maul told her on Mandalore during their fight. does that make sense? lol, I see angst. -Anon

masterlist

A/N: I took some creative liberties with this, hope you don’t mind! don’t sue me for emotional damages. Requests and tag lists are open!

You stood by the window watching as the stars shoot by in brilliant colors. You always enjoyed traveling in lightspeed - it gave you the opportunity to ignore the realities of the galaxy, even if only for a little while. Trying to distract yourself from the pressing matter at hand, your hand wandered to the small charm that hung from the side of your belt. Rubbing the charm between your thumb and forefinger, you remember the day that Anakin gave it to you after he had been training with you for months.

“Y/N. This is for you. It’s a traditional artifact. There’s an engraving on the back for you, can you read what it says?” You fondly remembered a significantly younger Anakin handing the small charm to you on Coruscant after he had returned to you following a dangerous mission.

“I’ll always be with you,” you read aloud.

“Right. Because we have to stick together, no matter what,” he smiled sweetly down at you, “I have a duplicate on my belt. I’ll keep it there to remember my promise.”

You nodded, confirming your half of the promise. Since that day, you carried the charm on your belt, right next to your saber. This gentle reminder eased your anxieties when departing for a new mission. The ritual was the same: three clockwise spins between your thumb and forefinger, four counterclockwise.

Over time, as Anakin and yourself grew from padawans to Jedi Knights, the charm began to lose its engraving from the repeated ritual, but the promise still stood between Anakin and yourself.

You would unite following a mission and embrace one another to confirm your physicality. Over time, your relationship with Anakin grew from fellow padawan, to close friend, to the possibility of something more, despite what you chose to label it. You always knew you had a special bond with Anakin, but were afraid to pursue it. The Jedi code forbids attachments, and you couldn’t risk your attachment to Anakin becoming your downfall.

These tender moments of nostalgia only lasted for so long; the sound of the transmission patching through pulls you out of your daze. You sighed heavily, not wanting to be bothered. After turning around, you were relieved to see that it was Anakin instead of another general.

“Ahsoka, Y/N, this could be a tipping moment for the Clone Wars. The Jedi are counting on you once again. Capture Maul and uncover his motive. I must go, but I know you’ll accomplish what is necessary.”

“Have I ever let you or the Jedi down, Anakin?” you spoke up.

“Never. And don’t let this be the first,” he chuckled, trying to distract from the gravity of the mission at hand.

“I won’t,” you confirmed as Ahsoka walked away to attend to strategic planning with the troops.

“Y/N. I’m serious, I need you to come back to me this time. The way this is looking, the Jedi could gain an advantage here and win the war.”

“I will, Anakin. I always will. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you...too long. There wasn’t enough time today on the dock.”

“I know. And I’m sorry, but with Obi-Wan there…” he trailed off.

His personal communicator chimed again, pulling his attention away from your private moment.

“I have to go, Y/N. The Chancellor-” Anakin tried to pull away.

“Be careful, alright? You know how I feel about mixing politics and war. It’s never good.”

“I’ll be alright. I promised to come back to you, didn’t I?” he smirked his trademark smirk before continuing, “I’ll be back before you miss me.”

“Impossible,” you smiled softly up at him.

“Good luck with your mission, Y/N,” Anakin spoke softly, the transmission ended before you had the chance to finish.

“You too,” you said into the silence.

You were on board a shuttle with Bo-Katan and Ahsoka, making your way to Mandalore. Maul was confirmed to remain in the city, his direct location unknown. Enemy fire interrupted your smooth transport; your troopers, and Bo-Katan leaving the ship on a jet pack. You looked to Ahsoka and shrugged before fleeing the ship, dismantling and disarming the enemy on the way to the surface.

After landing, you were met with heavy blaster fire which was blocked by the smooth and effortless motions of Ahsoka’s lightsabers, as well as your own. Working your way down into the tunnels of the city, you decided it was best you split up. Ahsoka would work with the commander and a few others, and you would lead your own respective group.

Taking out the opposition one by one, you worked with your team to find Maul. Ahsoka patched through eventually informing you of the dark lord’s location. You and your troopers made your way to the hub to surround Maul, armed and ready to fight.

“Ah. I see the Jedi have some new recruits I was not aware of,” Maul purrs.

“Can’t keep moving the same guys around everywhere in the galaxy. Too bad you’re stuck with us I suppose. Surrender and there will be no bad blood,” you spoke up, twirling your saber once for intimidation.

“Surrender? Why do so when the Jedi will inevitably lose?”��

You looked to Ahsoka with concern, preparing yourself for a bloody match with the Sith that almost eliminated Obi-Wan Kenobi. After a small back and forth, you lost track of Maul. You discovered that Darth Sidious was responsible for the Clone Wars, ensuring that the Sith were playing a game with the Jedi from the very beginning. After hours of gruesome fighting and snide remarks, Ahsoka was able to capture some time with Maul to discover Darth Sidious’ plot while you and Bo-Katan resolved the smaller fights on the surface.

You were separated from Ahsoka, busy taking down the enemy forces of the surface of Mandalore. Your saber made quick work of the blaster fire, blocking it from coming into harm’s way with your comrade. Slashing down enemies with an impressive twirl of your saber, mimicking the style of your master from so many years ago.

You hadn’t seen Ahsoka in a few hours, too busy fighting alongside the other troops assigned to the upper levels of the city. You received notice that Ahsoka was in pursuit of Maul, determined to uncover his motive and the greater plot at play. Through her continued efforts, she successfully captured Maul. You reunited and met with the Council to discuss further efforts to eliminate the Chancellor’s control.

“We have Maul. We will escort him back to Coruscant,” Ahsoka speaks up to the Council.

“The war could be over soon…” you trailed off quietly.

“If the Chancellor complies,” Master Windu confirms.

You nod, doubt troubling your mind. Where was this coming from? You knew Anakin and Obi-Wan would complete their mission and get the information necessary to end the war. But something lingering in the back of your mind continued to grow; you were so close, was this really going to be the end of a long war?

Master Yoda questioned your thoughts, “Doubts about the war, you have.”

“Doubts, yes. Is this too good to be true? If Darth Sidious is truly playing both sides...how can we know this war won’t go on for many years to come?”

“Faith in your colleagues, you must have.”

“Yes, Master,” you replied, looking to the floor.

“A message for Skywalker, perhaps?”

“No, when I see him after all of this is over, I’ll tell him myself.”

“May the force be with you.”

And with that, Master Yoda ended the transmission.

“Ahsoka, you didn’t tell the council about what Maul said” Rex spoke up.

“You’re right. I didn’t,” she spoke as she walked through the doors.

You followed her through, mind wandering endlessly. Is the council right? Is this almost the end of a multi-year war?

“Wait...What did Maul say? You didn’t mention it to me”

“In time...if what Maul said is true, it will reveal itself. I don’t want to distract you from the truth and from the mission, Y/N.”

“I see...why can’t you tell me, Ahsoka?”

“I just can’t,” she continued after a long silent pause, “I can sense something troubling you, Y/N. What is it?” Ahsoka asks as you make your way to the ship where Maul is to be boarded.

“Do you really think the Council is right? That Maul is right?”

“There’s no way to know for certain, but your doubts echo my own. I know the Order has a reputation for corruption, and it’s not up to me or to you to eliminate that, but I can’t continue knowing I contributed in an effort that allowed innocent people to die.”

“That’s why we’re here, Ahsoka. You know what is right.”

“I suppose, I just don’t want to be a soldier anymore” she closed, taking her position on the bridge alongside Commander Rex, while you sat outside the briefing room, unable to tolerate the pressure of more diplomacy.

As you traveled through hyperspace, the force called out to you in a series of struggles and arguments between an unknown party.

“It’s not the Jedi way!” a voice called out through the force, exhausted.

The painful thoughts plagued your mind as the scuffle continues.

“What have I done?”

“Anakin?” you said quietly into the empty hallway, looking around for anyone that could help you, or maybe you could share the news with.

You hurried to find Ahsoka, surely she felt this too. As the doors to the bridge slid open, Commander Rex stood between you two, guns drawn and aimed at both of you. Pulling your lightsaber from your belt and igniting the blade. Ahsoka stood still, shifting her focus from you and then back to Rex.

“Rex...what is this?” Ahsoka begged.

“Under Order 66, all Jedi are to be executed for treason. You are in violation of Order 66,” he spoke in a tone that was dissimilar from his normal.

Firing a shot at both of you, you and Ahsoka ducked out of the way; using her lightsaber to deflect the back-and-forth fire between the troops. Before you had the opportunity to get caught in the middle of the fire, you fled the scene, running into the hallway of the ship. You ran to escape the fire of the corrupted troops, finding a quiet supply room to yourself.

You thought if you could find the quiet space to meditate, perhaps you could send a message to Anakin. What was the argument that you heard? What did Anakin do that was so terrible that he immediately regretted it? There has to be some good left in him, surely nothing is solidified quite yet.

Reassuring yourself that nothing has been set in stone, you sat on the cold floor of the supply closet. Inhaling deeply, you centered your thoughts to reach Anakin’s. The blaster fire continued outside, drawing you away from your meditation now and again. As you tried to connect with Anakin, you were once again dragged down by Anakin’s panicked and angry thoughts.

“Anakin...” you spoke into your force bond, hoping he would reciprocate.

You waited, hanging on desperately for a response. You let a tear fall as you reached for the charm on your belt.

Three clockwise, four counter.

“Please, Anakin…”

“Y/N…” Anakin spoke out, heartbreak is laden in his voice.

“Where are you Anakin…?” you pleaded.

“Coruscant,” he quipped.

“What has happened?”

“I can’t-”

“Anakin, please…” your connection was brutely interrupted by clone troopers searing the door, attempting to break the door down.

You looked between the door and the charm in your hand, pondering your next move. As the clones came closer to breaking down the door, you forfeited your force bond with Anakin, leaving your meditative state and igniting your lightsaber.

Two clones broke down the door to the supply closet, exposing your hiding place.

Another clone echoed Rex’s command from earlier, “you are in violation of Order 66. You will be executed for treason.”

You fought off the clones, finding a way to flee the clones, and reunite with Ahsoka. After running what felt like forever, you found Ahsoka. Breathless, she stopped you.

“Y/N. The clones are compromised.”

“You don’t say,” you huff.

“No, they were designed that way.”

“What??”

“The Kaminoans installed an inhibitor chip. Order 66 was the plan all along.”

“Darth Sidious…”

“Yes.”

“Is this what Maul was talking about…?”

“Yes, but there is something else.”

“Tell me.”

“Y/N, I really can’t.”

“Ahsoka, please.”

“It’s Anakin.”

“What about him? I felt it. I tried. Ahsoka, I tried to talk to him. He pushed me away,” you spiraled.

Ahsoka caught your shoulders, squaring you to herself, “Y/N. Maul said Anakin is behind this. The destruction, Order 66. He is Sidious’s apprentice.”

You pulled away from her, “You lie. There’s no way that Anakin could have done this…”

“I know. But I think Maul may be right. Anakin has always doubted the Council, and increasingly so in recent days…”

“Ahsoka...I..”

“Right now, we have to worry about the clones. We gotta get that chip out of Rex’s head.”

You nodded, trying to focus on the mission. Your personal matters and attachments could not intercede. As Maul caused his own chaos in the corridor, you worked with Ahsoka to fight off the clones and get out of here. Eventually, you made it outside, where after a messy battle, Maul was able to escape after a struggle with Ahsoka.

The ship was gaining speed rapidly, and the clones were gaining on you. Ahsoka, Rex, and yourself fought back to back, blocking blasters and the increasing pressure from the clones. Ahsoka dropped the three of you to the lower level and covered you and Rex as you looked for an escape ship.

With a boost from Ahsoka, you boarded the ship with Rex, fleeing the wreckage. Ahsoka confirmed she would find her way and would work to defeat the clones. You steered to bring Ahsoka on board after she fled the wreckage herself. When it was safe, you landed on the moon’s surface, examining the wreckage behind.

You took a moment to yourself, finding a quiet space to allow yourself to feel the devastation. You had been through so much within the last day and this was time to rest. Tossing your lightsaber back and forth between your hands, you remembered your fondest memories while training. Working side-by-side with Anakin while you were both padawans were some of your favorite memories. The first time you sparred with him, you took him down practically instantly.

With a knee on his chest, you leaned into his face, “what? Can’t keep up, Skywalker?” you chuckled, smirking.

“Oh, I can keep up, Y/N,” he smirked, shoving you off his chest.

You laughed while standing back up, “I thought Master Kenobi was supposed to be teaching you something.”

“Hush,” he teased.

You smiled fondly at the memory from your youth. These much happier days seemed so long ago now, both of your lives completely different. Anakin’s choice was confirmed; he had truly given up on the Jedi and on the light side of the force. Hope was lost. In an attempt to comfort yourself, your hand wandered to the charm on your belt again.

Three clockwise, four counter.

A tear fell from your eye as you pulled harshly on the charm, detaching it from your belt. You tossed it out onto the expanse of the moon’s surface. You’ve lost hope in redeeming Anakin. You could sense he was gone. This was your only chance for survival.

Following your unceremonial separation, Ahsoka wandered over to you.

“You ready to go?” she spoke softly.

Wiping your eyes, you stood and followed Ahsoka to the shuttle, leaving the moon for good to start your life over again. Your life away from the Order, and away from Anakin.

Vader returned the moon months later. There was a rumor that wreckage from the clone wars existed, rumor that possible Jedi have crept through the cracks of Order 66 and escaped. He searched the surface with a dedicated team of troopers. Through the snow, helmets from the 501st peppered the snow.

Vader knelt to the surface to brush some of the snow aside. In his efforts, a silver piece of metal was hidden under the snow’s covering, beside one of the helmets. He picked it up and recognized it instantly- the same charm he had given to you as a boy.

He took this as a sign of your suffering; the wreckage was brutal and there was no way you survived. Vader pocketed the charm; his own was left burned and charred on Mustafar. Perhaps there was hope and you were alive. Wherever you are, he tried to reach out to you, but the door was closed.

Vader repeated the ritual in his gloved hands.

Three clockwise, four counter.

tagged: @kenobee @hxldmxdxwn @smokahuntis @obiwkenobi @jbarnesss @takenbymyfandoms @ilovesupersoldiers @ahsxkaa

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likeadove · 7 years ago

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fic: come back and sing to me (2/2)

Read part one here

Title: Come Back and Sing to Me

Pairing: Reylo

Summary: A Force bond is fairly inconvenient when neither participant wants anything to do with the other. Post-TLJ.

FFN

AO3

Kylo Ren's anger is shifting.

It is still there, pulsing and coiling inside of him, but…

He can't bring himself to direct it at her anymore.

Rey is alive. Her light still hums softly in the back of his head, dimmed and weakened. But she is getting stronger each passing hour. He feels a flash of pride at her strength, but a stab of apprehension as well. He never wants to feel that level of terror again. If her light goes out in the back of his head forever, then a part of him also dies. He doesn't know why he knows this so firmly, but their link has etched itself inside his very bones. He feels a rush of echoing warmth from her, from wherever she is.

Why is the Force connecting us?

The Force has not always been his friend, but he has never doubted it. He would not start doing so now.

Besides, hadn't he told Rey to let the past die? And here he is, still clinging to the dead legacies of dead Masters and dead grandfathers. Let the past die. Kill it if you have to.

He'd murdered Snoke. What else could he kill?

Rey's leg aches for weeks, despite being patched up as best it could be. She walks around with a barely there limp and has taken to pouring over the ancient Jedi texts she smuggled from Ahch-To. One of the smaller editions holds passages upon passages on how to heal oneself using very specific Light techniques. But the language is dreadfully old-fashioned and difficult to interpret. Needless to say, Rey is not making much headway with her leg.

She has also scoured the Jedi texts for any mention of "Force-bonds" and found nothing.

But none of that matters anymore though, because, aside from her leg, she feels so much better. The color has returned to her cheeks. She devours every meal. She trains vigorously every day. Her arms and legs and middle are hardening with muscle and finally, finally she is sleeping. She sees him every night in her dreams now.

As she exits her quarters and makes her way to the mess hall so that she can start her day, Ben's shadow nudges her. She smiles, humming to herself, and lets her light answer in kind. And then he fades, but not abruptly like before. He recedes gently and slowly, and she knows that she can call him back so very easily.

But she doesn't.

The bond has grown sharper and more intense now that they've both hesitantly embraced it. At any moment she can reach out and feel what he's feeling, if he reciprocates. At any moment she can send a thought to him, can communicate with him, if he reciprocates. At any moment she can send him her own thoughts, her own feelings, if he reciprocates. And lately he's been reciprocating. A lot.

And so has Rey.

A slow but desperate determination is building up inside of her. There is still conflict in Ben Solo. She feels it potently now, whenever he reaches out to her. His confusion and bloodlust and loneliness fill her own head sometimes when he is not being careful.

Rey remembers her vision from so long ago, a future she had buried because it had been a supposed lie, a supposed poison leaked into her mind by Snoke. It is her and Ben standing side by side, her glowing with light, him shrouded with shadows. But her hand is clutched tightly in his. And they are at peace.

She clenches her fist, resolute. Snoke had been wrong. Snoke had lied.

Rey had just reached the mess hall, shoulders squared and ready for the day ahead of her, when General Organa steps into her path, Poe Dameron and a very guilty looking Finn flanking her.

"Rey." Leia Organa's tone is cheery and respectful, and Rey feels herself calm a little. Leia smiles. "Grab your breakfast and then come join us in the council room."

Rey swallows then nods quickly. "Of course." Leia turns away, Poe right behind her. Finn lingers.

"How could you?" she growls. She had trusted him, told him her biggest secret—

"I'm sorry Rey." And she can tell by the emotion in his tone that he really is. "But I'm scared for you."

She scowls and brushes roughly past him, ignoring the line for rations and following after Leia and Poe instead. Her heart is pounding at the upcoming confrontation—

And then Ben is there. Something is wrong. His shadow probes at her, relentlessly demanding an answer.

Rey resists the urge to groan out loud. Now is not the time. And then she gently pushes back against his him. He recedes, understanding she isn't in danger and with the smug air of someone knowing they're going to find out eventually.

Rey sucks in a deep breath, attempts to clear her mind as much as possible, and follows Leia and Poe into the private council chamber, Finn right behind her. General Organa sits at the head of the small table before noticing that Rey is already there. "No breakfast?" the General says, raising a concerned eyebrow.

"Not hungry," Rey grumbles, already feeling dread work its way up her spine. She has held onto this secret for so long, and part of her is loath to share it.

Leia doesn't look surprised. She gestures for Rey to sit down then says, "Finn, close the door would you?"

Finn obeys and Rey sits.

Leia gives her a long look that manages to be both curious and cautious. "Let's not cut corners here Rey. We all know why you're here. You can be honest with me. What's going on?"

And Rey, knowing there is no use in continuing to withhold the truth, sighs. "It all started back on Ahch-To—"

Finally finished telling her story from beginning to end, Rey is met with three equally stunned faces.

Finn and Poe both explode at the same time.

"You didn't tell me that he killed Snoke for you—"

"General, we need to get her off this base—"

"You're sure there's nothing in the texts—"

"I'm sorry Rey, but you're a complete and total liability—"

All General Organa has to do to shut up both men is raise her hand. Rey can't quite decipher the emotions rolling around on her face. Anger that Rey hadn't been honest until now? Hope that maybe they can get through this war after all?

"Poe," she says, eyes never leaving Rey's, "call Maz."

A few minutes later Maz Kanata blinks at them sleepily, her small eyes looking massive behind her multi-layered spectacles. "General Organa!" she exclaims when she stops blinking, all drowsiness gone. She sounds delighted. "How can I help you?"

Leia's answering smile is a little sad. "I was actually hoping you could tell Rey about your experience with the Force-bond you had."

The whole room quiets, and Rey, Finn, and Poe's eyes go wide.

Maz looks surprised for approximately two seconds before fixating her gaze on Rey. "Oh? What would you like to know?"

Rey's mouth opens and closes a few times, the months and months worth of unending questions she'd built up about this particular subject instantly leaving her mind.

Finn leans in and catches Maz's attention. "What is it?"

"It's exactly what it sounds like, you dummy. It's a bond through the Force, through two Force-sensitive individuals. They can feel each other's emotions, thoughts—"

Rey's brain has finally slowed down enough for her to form words. "Yes, but why does it start? How does it end? What does it mean?"

Maz is quiet for a moment. "There have been many debates about how one could start, but personally, I think it starts with two Force users feeling the exact same thing at the exact same time."

A memory hits Rey, sudden and unbidden.

Two lightsabers cross, snow falling all around them. Kylo Ren has her bent back as he pushes her toward the edge of a cliff. She can feel the heat and energy buzzing from both of their blades. Her foot slips a half inch. Her mind is going a thousand lightyears a minute, adrenaline and stress pumping through every part of her. Can't die must win fight have to save Finn. Kylo Ren grits his teeth and grunts and both of their arms are shaking and there's a feeling she gets as she continues pushing back against him, a feeling coming from somewhere deep inside of her, so small amongst the chaos of battle and yet so sincere—

I wish I didn't have to hurt you.

The room has gone quiet again. Rey clears her throat. "How do you make it…?" She trails off, suddenly feeling as if she has no more air to speak with.

But Maz Kanata didn't make it to be over a thousand years old by being stupid. "Stop it? You don't. One of you would have to die for the link to be severed. And then part of yourself dies with them. It'll be like an open wound inside your very being." A slight pause. "I should know."

Leia speaks up this time. "Can the bond be manipulated?"

The old pirate queen taps her chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps, if someone strong in the Dark Side sensed a Force bond, they could employ it to their whims. Not for very long, however. Soul-bonds are nearly impossible to corrupt. They come from the Light."

And then, completely unbidden, Rey's eyes fill with tears. Maz gives her a kind smile. "I told you once, Rey of Jakku, that the belonging you seek laid not behind you, but ahead." Then she snorts. "Bet you didn't think you'd find it with your enemy, huh?" Chuckling, she presses a button and her hologram form disappears.

Rey sniffs and subtly rubs at her eyes, embarrassed at being so emotional. Half of her wants to reach for Ben, to show him everything that she's just learned. The other half, the shy half that feels very young right now, wants to crawl in a giant hole and never come out.

General Organa stands and gestures toward the door. "Alright gentleman, out."

Neither of them protest. Finn gives Rey's shoulder a comforting squeeze on his way out, Poe a sad half-smile as they leave the room.

"I'm sorry," Rey croaks out, not able to meet the General's eye.

"For what?" Leia asks. She takes Rey's hands in hers and gives them a gentle squeeze. "When I woke up this morning my son was dead. And now, and now for the first time in a long time I feel hope. Hope for Ben." She leans forward. Her eyes… Rey notices how they soften like Ben's when they look at her. "He's tethered to a light now." The General stands and pulls Rey along with her, face beseeching. "He's tethered to you, Rey. You must go to him. You must try again—"

"No." And suddenly it's two years ago and Rey is remembering how he held his hand out to her, how he offered her everything. How tempted she had been, however briefly. She might not have left with him, but she had failed to bring him to her side. He might still be conflicted, and everything inside her might demand that she seek him out, but she could not survive failure like that again. It would break her heart.

Leia's mouth firms a little, suddenly looking more like a General again and less like Ben's mother. "Rey, I know you must be daunted, but this could be what—"

"No." Rey's voice is small but steely. She drops the General's hands and takes a step toward the door, gesturing with a finger so that it swings open with the Force. "I'm sorry General. I can't. Even if you order me to… I just can't."

Not yet.

And then she leaves and heads straight for the Falcon, ignoring Finn, who had been waiting outside the door for her.

She spends the rest of the day bent over Anakin Skywalker's broken lightsaber. She still has no way to fix it. Just like she had no way to permanently fix Ben Solo.

Kylo Ren has convinced a whole squadron of TIE fighter pilots to desert.

It was taxing, of course, manipulating so many minds over such a small space of time. But the absence of Snoke's whispers and the presence of Rey's light has been making him stronger, making every vein in his body spark with power. His cheeks are no longer sunken and the dark circles under his eyes have faded. He eats his meals with renewed vigor. And he sleeps, he finally sleeps. Every night he dreams of her.

Right now Hux is furious. His perfectly slicked back hair starts to become undone as he runs about the command bridge, screaming for the traitors to be caught and hauled back for swift execution. The subordinates under him scurry to do his bidding.

And then Hux turns to Kylo. He opens his mouth as if to say something but then snaps it shut, thinking better of it. But there is something brewing in the General's intelligent gaze, something malicious and mutinous.

And then Kylo Ren realizes that there is less fear in the room. Far less then there should be. He watches the First Order admirals and commanders and captains scramble to obey Hux's frantic orders, their gazes constantly switching between their work and their furious General. Very few glance in the direction of Kylo Ren, and when they do it is with an air of scorn, not dread.

He might be the Supreme Leader, but there is no one in this room that he truly leads.

It bothers him less than it should.

I can feel the conflict inside of you.

Kylo Ren hears the words she'd spoken to him on that elevator, and he almost reaches for her in his head so that he can truly hear her voice but—

Shame twists inside of him. Deep shame. Here he stands, a throne upstairs that belongs to him and him only and he just…

Doesn't fucking care anymore. About ruling, about how the Resistance and thusher have managed to stay out of his grasp for nearly two years, about Vader and his legacy and—

He can feel the Light taking root inside of him again. It rests alongside the Darkness in him, both sides of the Force ebbing and flowing within him like gentle ocean waves. Never fully Dark but never fully Light. Balanced.

Kylo Ren just wants to start moving forward. And the only future ahead of him worth anything at all is alongside her.

Rey and Rose are deep in tech talk during some down time when Finn sprints up to them, chest heaving.

"What's with you?" Rose asks with a raised eyebrow, a hint of fondness and curiosity in her voice.

Finn bends over and puts his hands on his knees, attempting to catch his breath. "Someone…from within this First Order…is leaking plans…coordinates…weapon blueprints-"

Both young women are instantly on their feet as Finn launches into a more official explanation.

And Rey reaches for that shadow, pushing with all her might, demanding and ferocious. He answers quickly. What?

Rey concentrates, centers her breathing and then lets him look through her eyes, at Finn excitedly using his hands to speak "—we might have enough man power now to catch them off guard! We know when and where they're getting their supplies, and Poe wants to dispatch a team to go and—"

"How to we know this information is good?" Rose asks smartly. "It could easily be a trick."

Oh, the information is good. His voice is deep and soothing and pleased in her head, and Rey isn't sure she's ever heard genuine amusement come from him before.

"The info is good," she tells her friends curtly. They both hush up instantly, eyes going a little wide, as if they're realizing the implication of her words.

Rey turns and sprints away from the corridor, shouting for the General. She feels the last of her fear of failure slip away from her for good. I'm coming for you, her light sings at him through their link. Ben's amusement fades and he recedes, quiet. But Rey doesn't care and she doesn't reach back out for him. She's coming for Ben Solo and she will drag him out of there kicking and screaming if she has to.

She finally feels confident that he might let her. For sure this time.

Like hell Kylo Ren is going to allow her to board his ship when it's in this particular condition.

He needs to take care of some of the riffraff first.

He calls an emergency meeting with all the leadership of the First Order in the middle of a night cycle. All the higher ranks that served under Snoke, that pushed for Starkiller Base, that have personal stakes in the violence and horror the First Order has sewed across the galaxy this past decade, he summons them all.

The room is filled with the sour taste of irritation and misgivings, and it is Hux that speaks first. "Ren, what is the meaning of this? Have you considered the hour—"

Kylo breaks Hux's jaw and nose before lobbing off his head with his lightsaber. That's when the screaming starts.

Some try to fight back, and others rush for the door. He keeps them all locked inside this room with the Force.

Captain Phasma rushes up to him, her blows furious and harsh. He stops her with his right hand, his left holding several blaster bolts aloft. A flick of his wrist and the bolts go flying toward new marks. He locks onto the Captain's mind, squeezing with his right fist. "You will fall on your own blade." And Captain Phasma whirls her massive sword around and stabs herself with swift, brutal efficiency.

It's easy to pick the rest off one by one after that. He enjoys it. The Darkness is surging up all around him, fueling every final blow. But the Light is there too, never letting his vision get too red, reminding him that each death is serving a purpose. This doesn't seem like murder. Not to him. It seems like justice.

The Resistance shows up ready to make a final stand.

All they're met with is escape pods and shuttles streaming from the First Order's main ship.

"What the hell happened here?" Poe asks, he and everyone important within the Resistance ranks watching from the main command bridge. All heads swivel toward Rey. Everyone knows now.

Ben's shadow is small in the back of her head. And sluggish, as if he'd just gone through a massive spike of adrenaline and is coming back down. She nudges him and his sigh echoes all throughout her head. She gets pictures, clips of action. There is the powerful thrum of his lightsaber and shrieks of utter terror.

There is blood. On the walls the ceiling the floor the equipment—

And Rey reminds everyone in the Resistance as well as herself that even though she is mostly Light there is still Darkness inside her too. She tells them that Ben Solo has performed a coup and eradicated most of the First Order higher ups, including General Hux. The few leaders he didn't execute have abandoned ship, with the rest of the Army in confused shambles.

She delivers all this news with a satisfied smile.

The bridge is quiet for awhile until, ever the leader, Poe steps forward. "Should we try to rendezvous, then?" He is asking Rey, and she can sense his fear. His apprehension at the frightening, hulking, enigma of a man waiting for them on the other ship. When she reaches out briefly with the Force she can feel that everyone is afraid.

Everyone except her.

Kylo Ren feels how near she is. He is up in the Supreme Leader's throne room, a room he has barely used since coming into control. And after today he suspects that he'll never have need for it again. But still, it seems fitting for their reunion to be here. He sits at the foot of the throne, bicep bleeding and sleeve torn from a blaster, waiting.

They are communing with one another through the bond, her light and his shadow so deeply entrenched in the other that it is like he is walking down his own halls with her.

He watches through her gaze as she stops at the nearly destroyed command bridge. As she takes in the bodies, the dead faces frozen in petrified screams. He watches her speak to his mother, watches Leia Organa's face go pale at all the blood, at the smell of death. He's prepared to tell Rey that she'll probably have to defy orders and sneak away when—

My orders are to find you. Rey leaves the destruction of the bridge behind, following his Force signature toward the elevator. That room? Really?

He starts, not bothering to keep his surprise from her. Surely they wouldn't want her coming near him after everything he'd just done?

On the contrary. And she gives him a memory, and oh, it is of his mother. "He's tethered to a light now. He's tethered to you, Rey. You must go to him."

As the elevator takes Rey up and up and up, bringing her ever closer to him, she floods his whole head with her light, with her warmth and her hope and everything that is good. And she shows him, finally, what she's learned about their bond.

Kylo Ren is bent over Rey, their lightsabers clashing as snow falls all around him. Hot blood trickles from his wounded side down his leg but he can't think about that now. He has to keep his focus straight. Win the fight take the lightsaber get off this base. His vision is going blurry as he pushes his strength into their locked blades, adrenaline and Dark power alone keeping him from passing out. But underneath all the stress of battle and the throbbing pain from his wound and oh god oh god oh god I've murdered my father, there is—

I wish I didn't have to hurt you.

When Rey finally steps into that red, red room she stops, suddenly frozen in place by that look he is giving her. A look that demands that she keep coming, how dare she stop moving—

She runs to him, suddenly overcome with how long they've been apart, with how long its been since she's seen his face in something beyond just thoughts and dreams and memories. He has his gloves off by the time she reaches him so that he can feel the soft skin of her neck and her cheeks and how her hair is so smooth—

He bends down to meet her and touches his forehead against hers, breathing her in.

Poe Dameron and General Leia stand at the entrance, both totally unnoticed. Poe had reached for his weapon out of sheer habit at seeing Kylo Ren, but Leia places her hand over his and squeezes firmly, shaking her head. The older woman can feel the hum of the Force here, powerful and potent and…

The scavenger girl suddenly throws her arms around her son's neck and Kylo Ren (or Ben or a mix of both) brings her close, pulling Rey off her feet a little in the process.

And Leia is able to put a name to it then, what she is feeling through the Force. Balance. And the General knows that there will be chaos and ramifications coming their way in the next month, week, day, hour…

But for now, there is peace.

I was lost, I was lost Crossed lines I shouldn't have crossed I was lost, oh yeah

Sing it, please, please, please Come back and sing to me, to me, me Come on and sing it out, now, now

“In My Place” by Coldplay

A/N: First off, thank you everyone for your kind words about part one! Was really cool to hear from some of my old readers that have seen me through several fandoms and ships. I hope this delivered a satisfying conclusion! Writing Kylo brutally murdering the First Order leadership brought me more joy then perhaps it should have. Anyway, this is it for this story, but I have plenty more Reylo coming up, including a couple of one-shots and a WIP, god help me.

If you liked let me know!

#bethany writes #reylo #reylo fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #rey #kylo ren/ben solo #the last jedi spoilers

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