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Ahhh this was so good! I adore this premise and I can't wait to read more!! Thank you for tagging me!

× series masterlist • masterlist • read on ao3

Prologue

pairing. obi-wan kenobi x f!reader

word count. 1120

summary and context. Original Premise - At the dawn of the Clone Wars, you've become a Jedi Knight, filling your Master's eyes and heart with pride and honor. Missions came one after another, reports with your Master to the Council, rest, training and meditation times in the Jedi temple. And the time came for your first solo mission report. warnings. slight mention of panic attacks, (non-canon compliant: anakin isn't there, i'm sorryy), slow burn, no mention of y/n, overall just fluff in this chapter, protective Obi-Wan, slight angst

author's note. Here it is !! Goodness it took me an entire middle-earth age to write, edit and have this beta-ed and get this ready to be read. This is the first time ever I'm publishing something and I'm so intimidated.. This couldn't have been possible without the precious help and incredible support and love from my friends who beta-ed this for me. Thank you @thegreatwicked for reintroducing me to fanfiction and more generally to writing, for witnessing the birth of this story and pushing me to write it. Thank to my lovely @the-mandawhor1an (she's only on tumblr, please go follow and read her Din Djarin stories !!) for being so kind and encouraging and merciless beta-reader ily, my dear @viskarenvisla , thank you for beta-ed me, and help me so kindly with English and @Chaotic_Kimchi thank you being the adorable spiciness in my life !

Happy reading of my first ever shared writing ! ✨ (Please note I'm writing in my second language. Feel free to give any kind advice.)

Moodboards are only here to set an aesthetic.

Three years have passed since you successfully passed the trials. You’ve proven your bravery, your devotion to your Master and the Jedi Order, to Justice and Democracy. Your strength, and your exceptional bond with the Force were remarkable, and you’ve made your name among the Padawans.

Obi-Wan has been there for you. During this arduous journey for you to become a Jedi. He’d been there when you doubted, when you succeeded or failed. He was there to save you from being shot and when you lost your first lightsaber on Geonosis ten years ago. His presence during your meditation sessions has been a precious source of serenity, helping you find clarity and balance. 

Only he could feel when you were about to burst your seams in a panic attack you could do during a mission and to soothe you back to tranquility, at times even after you’d failed to save everybody. He’d stood by your side to comfort you, guiding your thoughts back to the light of the Force. He surprisingly grew fond of your worried nature, touched by your emotional intensity and impressed by your willingness to help and to deliver peace and justice. 

So on this day, seeing the pride in your former Master’s eyes would mean everything.

    You landed on the landing platform of the Jedi Temple, returning from a mission. The sunsets of Coruscant were shining like brillant luminescence through the cockpit glass as you dragged yourself out of the ship and walked out the area, surrounded by a metallic knocking and flying ships’ cacophony. 

The Temple was lively, golden lights grazing the greige columns, torches making their own shadows dance on the walls. As you were heading yourself out of a large corridor, passing Masters and young Padawans, you noticed the Younglings with blinding helmets on; training with Master Yoda. The sight of their enthusiasm and dedication brought a smile to your face. You recalled memories of the time you were training your intuition with the Great Master with your very first lightsaber. You were granted this honor when Obi-Wan had been summoned for an important rescue mission. Fellow Jedi were in danger and he couldn't risk you to accompany him. Not on Dathomir. 

Pride washed over your heart as you remembered the time you were a Youngling yourself and how fascinated you were toward elder Padawans, Knights and Masters. You finally have become what you always wanted, and were meant to be: a Jedi Knight. 

You stopped in front of the door of the Council and checked your robe, rearranging your sleeves repositioning the fabric. Then you heard steps heading toward you, and you smiled at the person you saw.

“Master Ti,” you bowed your head in a respectful greeting. She offered a smile to you in return.

“Oh Young One, you’re back. How has it gone ? Has Master Kenobi managed to avoid capture this time ?” A playful smile had drawn on the corner of her lips.

“Everything went well as far as I know,” you nodded. “And, Master Kenobi hasn't been summoned for this mission, Master. I was on my first solo duty this time.” You lightly inclined your head with humble pride, showing your respect.

“Oh, I see,” she suppressed a smile. “I thought the two of you were inseparable.” Your whole body froze at her words and a knot of stress and mixed-up emotions grew in your stomach, soon reaching up for your trachea, forbidding you to say a word. 

Master Shaak Ti gently smiled at you, amused by the embarrassment she caused. ‘Does she know ?’

The Master passed you, heading to the Council Chamber’s door and she invited you to follow her. Your heart started to race like it never had as the room opened before you, letting the sight of all the Masters seated in their gray and orange large chairs spread in front of you. Some appeared through blue holographic projections. Soft lights danced on the metallic torch sconces on the walls, and your eyes locked on Obi-Wan, who wore a discreet smile on the corner of his lips, his golden hair hiding his smirk. He quickly shifted his eyes back towards Master Windu and Master Yoda, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. You tried to regain your composure, landing your eyes back on Master Yoda, yet you had [ to rub the fabric of your robe between your fingers ], feeling your heart racing hyperdrive fast. 

You had showcased reports with your former Master before, but doing it alone was much more intimidating than you had thought. This has been your first solo mission, and so stressful for you to accomplish. You didn't want to disappoint the Council, Master Yoda and of course Master Kenobi. Still you could feel his presence in the Force, soothing, calm and safe. Your heart suddenly filled with honor and pride, and gratitude. He was here for you. 

And.. It was actually a pain not to be able to stare at him while reporting, as he was just two seats from Master Yoda and Master Windu whom you were facing.

“Well done you have, Young One,” You bowed at the Great Master’s words, a smile of honor drawing on your lips. “A little rest, you have earned,”

“Thank you Master Yoda,”

“Separatist crises are growing more numerous and the war menaces peace in the Galaxy,” Master Windu added, his usual grave tone in his voice, “Please rest, until the Council needs you again,” You bowed slightly again, smiling, feeling the powerful auras spread around you.

“And the Council is proud to be able to count on you,” Obi-Wan added hurriedly, a gentle smile addressed to you.

You met his look and his blue eyes were sparkling, his left leg laying over his other knee, his arms leaning on the armrests, in a position allowing you to admire his Jedi suit and his lightsaber, laying on his thigh. He nodded at you with pride and you bowed to him.

“Thank you, Master,”

You felt Obi-Wan's gaze following you as you turned around and walked out of the Council Chamber, making your soul squeeze on itself. The intensity he was looking at you with was unbearable. Once out of the Council Room and walking down the halls, you let yourself rest against a wall for a moment. Your heart raced like it was reaching hyperdrive during the meeting, and Obi-Wan’s gaze did not help at all. You closed your eyes and focused on your breath for a second, remembering what you've been taught.

No attachment. 

But your brain was struggling to impose the boundaries on your heart. 

The soul was diving, and so you were, drowning even more into something you knew was forbidden. 

Thank you for reading ✨

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series !

@splitt-spectrumm @galway-girlatwork

Dividers by @saradika-graphics @cafekitsune @zeenmrala

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Ahhhhahaha this is amazing. I feel exactly the same! <333

having mutuals who i think are really cool and get like. starstruck when they interact with me. is so weird. like why am i reacting like this. we’re literally both on tumblr

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× masterlist

UNDER THE STARS

ೃ⁀➷ synopsis. You escape to Tatooine a decade after the purge, your family still held on Corellia, and your encounter with the Dunes Hermit won't leave your heart intact. pairing. ben kenobi x f!reader

word count. ~7k8 (ongoing/drafts)

warnings. angst, injury, blood mention, smut (each chapter has its warnings)

author's note. This idea popped last year when I watched Kenobi Series.. And here I am months later.. Planning a whole series out of it. Can't wait to share more of this story, I love it so much !! ✨

Prologue (soon)

× Chapter I - Lost in the Sand (soon)

× Chapter II - Far behind the Dunes (soon)

× Chapter III - In the Dark (soon)

More to come

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Star Wars Episode II - Attack of the Clones

Obi-Wan Kenobi + ⛓️

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Username Songs Tag Game

Thanks for the tag, @rivnedell! 🤍 And thanks for introducing me to Low Roar. Loved your list!

Here's mine:

S / Soft Shock - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

P / Paulette - Balla Et Ses Balladins

L / Longshot- Catfish and the Bottlemen (iykyk)

I / In Transit - Albert Hammond Jr.

T / Touch - Daft Punk ft. Paul Williams

S / still around - Fousheé

P / Pizza Boy - Everything Everything

E / Everybody Wants to Love You - Japanese Breakfast

C / Cane Suga - Glass Animals

T / Tropical Man - Menahan Street Band, Rogê

R / Reality Check - Binary Star ft. Senim & Onemanarmy)

U / Underneath the Moon - Gardens & Villa

M / Mannequin Love - Justice, The Flints

No-pressure tagging: @imherefordeanandbones @holdingonforheaven @slinkygail @halfagonyhalfhope @beanie-weanie-lemoncini @thegreatwicked @pickleprickle @uyuartik @mitth-eli-vanto @blazingheartsblog @palfriendpatine66 @lightwise @hereticpriest @impossibleprincess35 and anyone else who'd like to share theirs!

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Omg chomping at the bit for both the Obi Wan fic and the Joel Miller fic! Can't wait!!

Wip Friday

It's been a week already, omg.. So much going on.

Artist Work

I'm working on a shop updates, new prints, new stickers with october illustration

And I'm also working on illustrations for my first ever Christmas market I'll be at in December (I'm so excited, but freaking stressed too)

Writing (I have over 35 actual wips.... But these are the ones I've been working ob the most recently)

Relief - Obi-Wan Series (Prologue to be posted soon hopefully)

Was supposed to be just a period comfort one-shot, but I clearly got SO carried away..

Under the Stars - Ben Kenobi Series (I'm cleaning the mess this fic is.. Almost 17k of a huge mess)

Omg, this.. Is a sin. (I'm sorry but Kenobi could clain my soul as his ... )

Only Yours - Joel Miller Series (More that 10 chapters planned omg this will be such a long story !)

Long story of You falling in love with someone you shouldn't..

Escape the Rain - Sam Bridges (Death Stranding) (Blaming myself for diving into the game again..)

This will be just pure fluff and love and care for a scared, exhausted and brave porter.

At Dawn - Tim Rockford Hogwarts!AU (I barely have the plan and some events for this one but I'm so thrilled by this idea)

Tim is a Auror, and You are a former Hogwarts student, became a teacher, and eventually wants to become an Auror. And who do you think is going to watch over you during the process ? 🥲

Can't wait to share all of this !

Feel free to send me asks 🖤

Tagging, but no pressure of course :

@thegreatwicked @the-mandawhor1an @evolnoomym @joelmillerisapunk @kisskenobi @split-spectrum @lady-bess @galway-girlatwork @penvisions @toomanystoriessolittletime @jksprincess10

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what my notifs look like currently

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Take It, Master

Summary: You were just living your life when the stranger with the dark smile and bright golden eyes barges in and takes everything from you.

Pairing: Force Vampire Sith!Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

Rating: E 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!

Word Count: 4k

TW: unprotected p in v, oral male receiving, dom obi-wan, light degradation, dubconish

The attack had come during one of those rare times when Lord Kenobi was being gentle and holding you as delicately as the finest glass while he took you. In a moment, the caresses turned to grasping, pulling, pushing. One large hand tangled in your hair and yanked.

"Give it to me," he growled. "I need it."                               

"Take it, Master," you whimpered.

His face buried into your cheek as he drank your Force signature, giving him the strength to engage this attack and win.

When he'd had his fill, you fell limp against the bed- drained and spent. Briefly, he lifted each arm and found them unresponsive. He withdrew and, once dressed with the lightsaber dangling at his hip, he pulled the sheet over your naked, pliant body.

"I took too much too fast," he whispered. "I'll care for you later."

Darkness fell.

*

Shouting and blaster fire could be heard outside, but that was common around here. At the sound, everyone would retreat from the street and lock their doors until the commotion stopped and business could continue. As usual, you locked up the tiny eatery and while the fight went on outside, you brewed kaf and sliced cheese in preparation for the lunch rush. Once it was all over, Old Man Sayu would be at the door expecting a hot steak sandwich to complain about while devouring it.

Tsk, you shook your head in resigned irritation, making a note to check the outer walls and hoping there was enough stucco left to patch any new blaster nicks. Then a dark wave nudged. The locks were being undone.

"Kenobi!" the voices shouted beyond the door. Fists pounded. Blasters screamed. Hands covered in flour and stomach feeling sick, you slowly turned around.

"Hello, there." The battered stranger's rust-rimmed, tarnished brass eyes held a thousand arcane secrets and his smile held untold cruelties. "Aren't you the sweet one."

"Sir, I don't want any trouble."

"Yet here I am."

"Please," you pleaded, backing away as stalked across the shop like a tooka closing in on its prey. "Take whatever you want and go."

"Want? Oh, no." Those terrifying eyes narrowed. "You have something I need, darling.”

"Then take it and lea—" the words crumbled as he bent down and softly pressed his lips against your jawline and neck. With each touch there was a swirling pull as if your spirit was being wrung out and drained. It seemed that it should be painful; rather it stoked an electricity that pierced and deepened through your chest, core, and down through your pussy. Unable to stop the motion, you grasped his shoulders to steady yourself to keep that delicious feeling whirling.

He pulled away and laughed at your startled whine, at the hands still gripping his shoulders. Sensing weakness, he let you slip to the floor and leered down at this unexpected prize blinking in confusion. Dingy brass eyes now sparkled the brightest yellow encircled by blood red.

"I'll return," he said. "You're mine, now."

*

Ever since that teacher had caught you floating pebbles in a secluded area of the playground, you'd kept to the edges. Stop! she'd hissed. Why? you'd asked.

It's not safe. Never do that again.

But, why?

The teacher gripped your hands so hard a pinky finger broke.

Because bad people will find you and take you away, she whispered. They're wizards and will make you forget your family and friends.

As a small child, that was the worst thing you could imagine so the pebble floating stopped. It didn't stop you from trying to learn the why and what of it as time went on. Eventually, in a long-forgotten book in a dusty section of a library, an answer emerged: The Force.

*

“It will be easier for both of us if you come willingly. Abduction is such a hassle.”

As promised, this Kenobi person returned to the little eatery after the battle – which he'd presumably won – and with a wave of his hand, relocked the door as Old Man Sayu strolled up to it.  

"What was done to me before wasn't willingly."

"And I do so regret that, sweet one," he replied, voice dripping with condescension as he crept across the place. "It was an emergency and I'm eternally grateful for your contribution."

Instinctively, you snatched a knife from behind the counter; the metal still dripped juices from the slab of nerf steak that you'd been slicing.

The gesture only amused him. Smiling hungrily, Kenobi strolled around the counter to the cooking area, backing you against the hot grill. His hand drifted to the knife - which continued to drip onto the floor – and nimbly released the fingers gripping it in terror. He wiped the blade on your sleeve before tossing it away.

"Such a messy girl." Kenobi didn't touch you again; only smiled down maliciously. "I wonder how such a messy girl managed on her own with no one to care for her."

"What do you want from me, sir?" The words were so quiet they barely existed. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you're too valuable to leave behind.”

The heat from the grill began to burn through shirt to skin, causing you to yank away only to crash into his chest. Kenobi's touch resumed, cradling your tearful face against his chest. The diner really was a wreck: somehow, the flour had spilled to the floor, the sugar twisties in the oven had begun smoking, and the sink was overflowing. Everything had been under control until he walked in. How could it possibly have all gone so badly in such a short time?

Kenobi gently stroked your hair, growing irritated at how long this was taking. He ransacked your mind as quietly as his impatience would allow until the solution revealed itself: exhaustion from running everything alone. The woman in his arms hadn't slept well or very much in a long while. She had no one and was at the edge of despairing hopelessness. That was the key.

"You don't have to struggle anymore, sweet one," he purred. "You'll want for nothing. I'll see to everything, and you can rest."

He felt your body crumple into his. The Sith Lord truly had you now.

"I don't know your name," you whispered, breathing in the scent of him. Smoke. Blood. Thunderstorms.  

"Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi." He kissed your head, pleased at this success. "You will call me Master."

*

Everything had been easy since joining him on the ship. As promised, you wanted for nothing. Master Kenobi visited the provided suite occasionally to do whatever it was he was doing to you, holding your back to his chest, bending down to brush his lips along your jawline. That feeling of being drained wasn't nearly as intense as that first time; there hadn't been another emergency, and he only took small bits as if he were testing or practicing. Each time sparked a tingling heat that had you panting and grasping his hand, desperate to keep that intoxicating feeling.

He rarely spoke and you avoided looking at him, turning away as soon as he could be heard entering the room. The monstrous smile and terrifying eyes had haunted your dreams; seeing them once was more than enough. For the most part, you were left to your own devices and allowed some freedom in a small section of the ship, including his study where most of the time was spent. One afternoon, you were examining a hysterically inaccurate ancient Twi’lek fertility figurine when he entered.

"That's a very expensive artifact you're playing with."

"It shouldn’t have been,” you blurted out. Stupidly, dangerous words kept tumbling. "It’s a fake and not even a good one. Look at the lekku. They should—"

"And how would a backwater waitress know such a thing,” he snapped, tensing at your silence. "Look. At. Me. And I will be addressed properly."

Timidly, you turned to take him in fully for the first time. In the eatery, he'd been battered and burned and covered in blood and dirt. In the sanctuary of the ship, he was impeccable. Mid-thirties, maybe a little older. Sandy auburn hair with a sharp part. Neatly trimmed beard. Cold golden eyes. He stared expectantly, calm with a rage simmering beneath. It was best not to stir it.

Why does he have to be handsome?

"I went home to care for my sick mother. She died. I got stuck. Tale as old as time, Master.”

Master Kenobi continued to look expectantly, unsatisfied with what he knew was a partial answer. You relented and revealed what you’d wanted to scream at every customer who complained about stale bread and rubbery eggs and burnt kaf in the family diner you’d run away from years ago with no regrets and no intention to return.

"Before that, Master, I was an archeologist. Not very exciting. Mostly research.” You couldn’t help but smile at the memory of what had once been. “Field work was rare, but my favorite.”

Now he smiled without the slightest hint of malevolence. Golden eyes glittered with curiosity.

"Sweet one, you have become so much more interesting.” Master Kenobi said. “I may actually want to talk with you."

*

"You're bored," Master Kenobi coldly observed, ice clinking as he swirled his glass. "As promised, I've seen to every need. What else would you have me do?"

He'd visited more frequently since that day in the study and had engaged in bracing discussions and debates rather than doing whatever it was he'd been doing to you or touching you at all. Shamefully, you missed his arms holding you in place, his breath on your neck. The worst was missing the feeling of it: energy slipping from your skin to his in a trail that left you soaked and pulsing with want.

With each visit, you became more flustered. Why did he have to be gorgeous? Why did he have to be so engaging? Why did you want him? Why did you want him to—

"Answer!" he barked.

The answer, spoken slowly and cautiously, bubbled up from a sea of shame and embarrassment.

"I want you to do it again. Whatever it is, please do it again. Please, Master."

The smile that crept along that stunning face was terrifying in its capacity for horrific desire. Master Kenobi rose and crossed the few feet to loom over, hands gripping the back of the chair on either side of your head. His lips brushed your temple, dragging down along the cheek to your mouth. All the while, you breathed a wispy moan at the feel of life force being drained away.

"This is most unexpected, Sweet One," he said, breath hot in your mouth. A lock of light auburn hair fell over his forehead to tease your eyes. "This is better than I'd dared to imagine."

*

Bright yellow, crimson rimmed eyes skated over every inch of skin. That cruel smile. He leaned back and took a sip from the glass, considering the naked woman before him who was quivering with need. It was so easy to follow his orders and the order was simple: strip.

"I'm pleased with this obedience." He ran his hand down your sternum and belly, pausing just before the pearl at the end of that delicious trail. "That deserves a reward."

A single finger feathered your bud while your head fell back. The barest fingertip slid along your folds and teased your hole, gathering up slick until your knees threatened to buckle. Master brought the soaked finger to his lips and swirled his tongue around it as if he were savoring the galaxy's finest delicacy.

"On your knees, darling."

Obediently, you knelt on the carpet while he undid his pants, releasing his rock hard cock. He dragged the velvety head along your mouth until your lips parted and, in one rough motion, shoved fully down your throat. He held your face flush against the rosy gold hair at the base of his cock and remained still.

You tried to pull back in an effort to please him, but his grip was firm. He breathed hard- tension in his body begging to be released but he wouldn't relent. He would not be a slave to his own desire. Master Kenobi would feel your mouth holding his cock but would not move or release himself until he decided to do so; especially now that his prize wanted it. Eventually, he softened and withdrew.

"Stay on your knees with your mouth open," he ordered as he departed.

What seemed like hours later, he returned only to tsk at your pathetic state before leaning over to spit in your mouth.

Master Kenobi undressed and lay back on the bed, cock aggressively erect and weeping with pre-cum. He glanced down at it and glanced at you. With embarrassing eagerness, you rushed over, straddled him, and speared yourself on his cock.

"Impatience is unbecoming, you needy little slut," he sneered, reaching out to pinch your clit. "Proceed. Slowly."

As directed, you gradually rose and sank back down. Again. Again. Again. The feel of his cock dragging along your walls was intoxicating. Hands pressed into his chest, clutching at the hair sprayed across it. Master held your clit firm between those long fingers, slightly releasing the pressure and stroking the pearl at his mercy. The sharp pain mingled with the pleasure coiling in your lower belly and thighs. Every muscle shook with the effort to keep the demanded incremental pace.

"Is this because of the pebbles?" you gasped, suddenly and inexplicably recalling that day in the playground.                            

"The peb— what?" He grasped your hips, immobilizing you. "What does that mean?"

You tried to pull away and fall next to him, but the grip held firm, keeping him buried to the hilt.

"No. You'll stay still and keep me warm until I command otherwise," he ordered, pinching your clit again and twisting, eliciting a yelp. "Explain."

Stupidly, you hesitated, which only angered Master further. In a swift movement, he flipped your body face down on the bed and yanked your head back by the hair.

"Do you want me to make you come or not," he growled, pulling back and slamming back into you.

"Y—yes, please, Master.”

With that he was unleashed. He shoved your face down on the bed as he relentlessly pounded your hole.

"Then answer me," he groaned, feral. "Only obedient sluts get to come."

In between his punishing thrusts, you choked out the story of floating pebbles in the playground and the teacher who'd warned against it. Abruptly, his movements ceased, and he carefully shifted your back to the mattress, then pressed his forehead against yours. Master Kenobi's face seemed to have melted into sadness and perhaps . . . regret?

"I'm not those people," he breathed, eyes closed. His hips pushed forward, pulled back and pushed forward again. Arms worked between your body and the mattress, pulling you impossibly close and becoming gentle in his thrusts. Face buried in your cheek, he took. The feel of soul slipping away swirled with the orgasm building at your apex and spiraled out until you clutched his shoulders and cried out. Cried out long and loud, releasing every fiery synapse into him with the most explosive orgasm of your life.

He pinned your wrists to the mattress and returned to relentlessly abusing your pussy until, with a deafening moan, he spilled hot and white inside you. He collapsed, sweat dripping from his temple.

"I won’t hurt you the way they would, sweet one.”

You grasped his hair, pushing his face just far enough away to see those sun-like eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but for a half-moment, they looked blue.

*

After that night, he stopped engaging in any conversation.

Master Kenobi had gone back to visiting only periodically, often coinciding with some attack or battle or challenge on the rise, always crowding in with a frantic kiss that inspired you to tear your own clothes off. Those times, he'd shove your face down on the nearest surface and hammer into you from behind. After a few brutal minutes, a large hand would curl around your throat, and he'd give the order: give it to me.

And you would give it to him, always crying take it, master. He'd yank you up against him, bury his face in your neck, and take. Always demanding. But always waiting for consent. Making him wait became fun. Dangerous, but titillating.

"Please, sweet one. I need it," he growled, hips slamming harder. You held out until Master brought his fingers to your clit and softly stroked.

"Take it, Master."

Then that feeling like that first time in the diner, but mingled with the shared climax. Part of your energy signature – you knew what it was now – spiraled away. The drain didn't hurt. Every nerve, every cell of your body vibrated and tingled and was so sweetly electric that your whimpers and whines barely made a sound. It was sooooo . . . you felt so guilty. It was addictive.

You were usually limp afterward. If not, Master took more and would delicately care for you upon returning. Afterward, you'd recline against his bare chest in the bed while watching trashy holodramas. Your favorite was when he put on a period piece and allowed you to mumble about all the ways it was historically inaccurate.

Sometimes, he entered the suite and stared out into the stars, pensive. Regret reflected in the window.

"Master, shall I fetch tea?" you always asked. These moments were your rare and treasured. He didn't want your energy; he just wanted someone to be there. This was when Master Kenobi seemed most free.

"No, sweet one." His voice was low and long. Then there were his eyes in the window. Sometimes they were blue. Most of the time, they remained yellow but were rimmed with worry lines and the silver at his temples shone. ". . . just come here."

Always obedient, you'd go to him and would immediately be held tight against his chest. In those times, he liked when you touched his cheek and said I'm here for you, Master.

He'd shudder at your touch as if he'd never felt the sun, steering you to the bed to take you slowly. His face pressed into your cheek and the plaintive little moans you'd come to love sometimes gave way to a salty wetness as he clutched your body tight to his for so long and came with a sobbing groan.

"I haven't treated you properly," he'd say. Master Kenobi would spend the rest of the night pleasuring you in every way possible. In the morning, he'd bring you kaf and breakfast in bed and say, "You have no idea how important you are to me."

"Then why did you stop talking to me?" you finally asked one morning. As addictive as it was, this kept, nearly silent life had become tedious and recently it felt as if there was less and less to give him.

"That's none of your concern."

"Then you can't have it anymore."

Instantly, the words were regretted. With a flick of his fingers, you were immobilized.

"You are of no other use to me and are in no position to make demands, you filthy little whore," he growled through clenched teeth. "This can be a life of comfort, or I can freeze you in carbonite, hang you on my wall, and only take you out when needed. Understand?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to hear it.

“I understand. . .” You paused for dangerously too long before uttering what he expected to hear. “. . . Master.”

*

Master Kenobi didn't visit for some time after that. With the tedium, the passing of time had become difficult to measure and eventually there seemed to be no purpose in doing so anyway. A battle had raged, and he didn't come to take what he needed. Afterwards, you'd been able to feel waves of his pain and injury practically vibrating the ship. All the while, the study was the only refuge; one that was rarely left and where you'd been learning quite a lot about the nature of The Force, the history of the Jedi, and what Master Kenobi appeared to be: a Sith Lord.

That was where you were sitting on the floor, forehead to knees, surrounded by books neatly stacked around you like a fortress, when the door whooshed open.

"Sweet One, you're the first to survive. Your Force signature makes me strong, but you make me weak.”

Your head snapped up to see him fidgeting, face turned away. 

“I was growing— have grown – to care for you and enjoy your company. And feeling affection." He flinched, mouth twitching at the word as if it burned. Finally, he lifted his head to face you, brow furrowed over searching, tarnished gold eyes. “Their names and faces were never of interest to me. I just took," he said tentatively. "With you—if I accidentally took too much and. . .  killed you— it’s been so long since I’ve cared about anyone.”

Maybe it was a ploy. However, Master had been clear that he could take that Force energy whenever he wished whether you consented or not. Perhaps, in this moment, he was true. It must be; the books said Siths are capable of intense passions.

You rose and stepped carefully between the stacks of books until he was close enough for your hand to reach out and skate along his chest and shoulder and neck to finally settle on his cheek. He pushed into it, breathing out hard and bringing his own hand up to cover yours.

"I'm sorry. You have what I need, but I do care for you." His tone was quiet and unsure. “It’s disorienting.”

"Will you talk with me again?"

Master dipped down in the slightest kiss then pressed his forehead to yours. The words weren't said, but there was the unmistakable feeling of the barest nod. His eyes flicked to the book fort you'd constructed in loneliness and boredom. Unexpectedly, he drew back and regarded you with quirked brow and playful smile.

"Those are some very expensive books you're playing with."

"There’s interesting stuff in some of them. Including clues to a couple archeological sites I’d been looking for before I had to go home," you smiled, pulling him back down for another, deeper kiss. "It would be nice to get off the ship one day.”

"One day," he echoed, already tugging your blouse open, crowding you against a curio cabinet filled with overpriced, counterfeit artifacts. His mouth went to your breast and savaged it, teeth scraping the nipple and biting. You could feel the curve of his smirk at the sound of the sharp yelp he'd caused.

"Master, will you—"

"No. Only when it’s needed, and I will no longer fuck you during the transaction." He abruptly pulled away. "I fear we've both formed an unhealthy attachment to that feeling of me taking."

Master Kenobi pushed his forehead against yours again, eyes closed, breathing hard.

"Sweet One, until I need it, all you get is me. If you wish it. I understand if you don't."

You shoved him back and began unfastening his shirt. He remained silent and still as you threw it aside and went to work on his pants, shoving them to his knees. Then grasping his shoulders and shoving him to his knees.

"I wish it, Master."

“Perhaps you should start calling me Obi-Wan,” he said, hitching up your skirt and throwing your leg over his shoulder. “I plan to make you scream it. Several times.” 

@thegreatwicked @dystopicjumpsuit @firstofficerwiggles @ladycatly @bl00000g @hugmekenobi @sleepingsun501 @kenobiquinn @splitt-spectrumm @queen--kenobi

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They decided to come to the Temple’s Halloween party as each other and Anakin drew the unlucky straw… (he secretly adores his look but will never admit it 🤭)

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absolutely flabbergasting to see people who have so enthusiastically succumbed to despair. like okay denethor, but some of us are gonna actually face the armies of mordor in battle nonetheless.

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PEDRO PASCAL in a new behind the scenes of GLADIATOR II | ET Tonight

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thinking.. .

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Leia Organa: What the hell were you thinking?

C-3P0: Releasing birds at a wedding is romantic.

Leia Organa: You released ostriches.

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EVERYONE STAY CALM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

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Hahaha nooooo don't put off your homework!! The finale is gonna be posted tomorrow anyway so you could read both!

Water and Rock

Chapter 16

Pairings: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: angst

Description: There are only so many excuses a master and padawan can make to kiss under "extenuating circumstances" before circumstances stop arising and start being created. You are an expert at your craft - a Jedi knight in service as a spy for the Republic. When your former master Obi Wan joins you on a mission, it's clear things aren't the same as they once were. The trials you face together may break your bond, or turn it into something else entirely.

☆☆☆

Obi Wan wakes ten minutes before his alarm. As always.

He resets the chrono for tomorrow, silently eases from his bed, and prepares for morning meditations. Coruscant's sun won't rise for another hour. He prefers to meditate in the dark whenever possible, leaving the least opportunity for distraction. When he passes the mirror in the main living space of his quarters, only the shadows look back.

Settling himself into a seated position in the middle of his floor, Obi Wan's hands find their places at the tops of his knees without any guidance from him. His body fades into the background, making space for his mind.

He normally doesn't tend to use mantras, but today Obi Wan's mind is fixed on words from long ago.

"You must allow the Force to guide you, my apprentice. Never presume to know the path that lies ahead." 

He turns them over and over in his head. He listens to them, inspects them, considers them, until the quiet hour has ended.

He's still picturing the day Qui Gon said them as he steps into the refresher, steam filling the air.

"To be a Jedi is trust in the Force, above all else."

"Yes, Master."

"Sometimes, the Force may lead us to unexpected places. But it will never lead us astray."

"I understand."

He'd received a kind smile. "Do you, Obi Wan?"

A tilt of Obi Wan's head. "Master?"

As Obi Wan finishes dressing and clips his lightsaber to his side, he wonders what Qui Gon would think of him now.

"One day, you may find yourself in a position to follow the wisdom of the Jedi order, or the will of the Force. And you must never confuse the two."

Obi Wan had done his best to maintain a neutral expression, despite yet another lesson in defying the council. "Are they not one and the same?"

He'd tried to hide his frustration when Qui Gon had given a sly smile. "Many believe so. But you are much wiser than that, my young apprentice."

Obi Wan grimaces, thinking back on his own arrogance. He'd always hated when his master had talked like that. It had seemed to him that he'd been speaking from a lack of respect. Maybe even a lack of discipline. But in truth, Qui Gon had been preparing him to understand not only that the council wasn't infallible, but that the Force didn't require him to be a perfect Jedi in order to be good.

He runs a hand through the running water of his sink, then flicks it through his hair, combing it back into place. If only he could ask his master whether the council was following the right path now.

As he looks into the mirror, though, he knows given the chance, he would only have one question to ask. And it wouldn't be about the council. It would be about you.

Since your return to Coruscant, you've been all he can think about. He'd known he would inevitably gravitate back to you.

No - not just since your return.

The truth had been buried inside him since Ilum. Even as he'd left you standing there in the snow, he'd felt it. He'd known it wouldn't be the last time. The burning ache he'd felt that day had been branded into his bones. It's a part of him, now.

But had it burned brighter than the revolutions of a thousand subjugated star systems throughout the galaxy? Did it ache deeper than the pain wracking through the Force from those who suffered and died at the hands of the Separatists?

He known the answer then. And he'd known the answer as he'd held you in his arms, breaking his own heart along with his sacred vows in this very temple.

And as he smooths the collar of his robe, sunlight beginning to spill through the edge of his window, Obi Wan knows the answer still. He knows it clearly. He knows it will not change.

--

"You may open your eyes."

The man you know as the brother calls you back from the abyss, and you return to him, emerging from deep meditation. The Force is thick, syrupy-sweet around you, and it softens his voice in your ears.

"You have made a strong connection with the Force. For the final step, you must remain open. Do not close yourself off; do not be afraid of what you feel."

Your answer stays at the tip of your tongue. You want to answer that Jedi do not fear. But you know better.

It's been a long night, drifting in and out of consciousness; of reality. You're exhausted in every sense of the word. He's pushed you to what you'd thought to be your limit, and surpassed it many times. And now, as the sun begins to crest over the temple, you sit at the feet of your guide, feeling like a padawan again, and letting his words penetrate you deeply, ready for whatever comes next.

Slowly, he reaches out and touches the pad of his finger to your forehead, between your eyebrows.

Instantly, you have the feeling of going over a steep drop, your stomach rising and your breath leaving you. Your chest flutters, then begins to heave, feeling full to the point of bursting. Your eyes fall closed again as you concentrate on keeping your connection to the Force open while the channel of energy seeps out of your chest and starts to fill the rest of your body.

You feel like a vessel that had never known it was empty. There are spaces inside you that you'd never known existed, and now they're awakening, burning, thrumming with life. It's at once liberating and terrifying. It's almost too much to bear.

You look back up at the man standing over you, watching with curious eyes. You want to beg him to ease your pain - to take some of this power from you before it overwhelms. But you know that's not how this works. Slowly, you start to come to grips with yourself, feeling the energy coursing through you in waves, and you manage to break the surface, controlling it more than it controls you.

"That's it. Good," he coos. "Tell me, how do you feel?"

"I..." You swallow. "I feel..." Struggling between keeping your focus and trying to find the right words, you catch your breath for a moment before you finally answer.

"Whole."

He grins broadly. "Yes. Now you see."

You nod, not really able to hear him clearly. But he's right. You do see. For the first time, you finally feel what has been promised to you all your life: You are at one with the Force.

"Our work here is complete. Now you may rest, and prepare yourself for the task ahead."

Coming back to yourself, you shake your head, looking at the ground. "No, I- I can't. I have work to do."

"Your work will soon come to an end, when you discover the identity of the Sith lord."

All at once, your mind is focused, sharpened to a single point. "A Sith lord?"

He nods once, tucking his arms behind his back. "He is the true danger to your master, and indeed to the Jedi themselves. And he will reveal himself soon enough."

Reeling, you still can't take it in. "How... how can I know that what you're saying is true?"

He raises one eyebrow, as if he'd expected the question, and suddenly before your waking eyes, a vision appears.

Obi Wan, bent backward, hand at his throat as a shimmering, hazy being presses a lightsaber down, down, down.

Obi Wan, choking on the fumes of molten lava, sweat pouring down his face as he fights off blow after blow, desperately trying to stay on his feet despite the raw power of his opponent.

Obi Wan, anguished, screaming into the darkness...

You pinch your brow, turning away as you watch tears fill his eyes. When you look back, the image is gone.

Somehow, you know that it isn't fabricated. Just like Utapau, you just know it's real. You felt it. And just like Utapau, it cannot be allowed to happen.

"Who is he?" you ask, all of your previously rampant, unrestrained power squeezed down, pressed inside yourself as you hold your breath for his reply.

His easy expression hardens, glowing red stare going cold and empty.

"That is not yet clear to me, my child. You must wait. We must both... have patience."

--

"Master Kenobi."

Ki-Adi-Mundi greets Obi Wan amicably as he takes his seat for the council meeting. Obi Wan bows his head slightly and begins to greet him back, but the conversation ends before it starts. Yoda's opening remarks are already beginning as the other masters quickly take their seats.

Meetings over the last few days have been short and urgent, but the immediacy suits Obi Wan just fine today. He has no desire to exchange pleasantries; his thoughts have been distracted by Anakin from the moment he'd seen him this morning.

Since his appointment to the council and subsequent dispute over his failure to attain the rank of master, Anakin's mood has seemed darker than ever. He's quiet, his expression is blank, and his eyes are hollow. Obi Wan fights the urge to bring the back of his hand to his lips and drag it along his mustache. He couldn't be more obvious about his concern for Anakin, and he doesn't need his nervous tic to set him off.

As the discussion goes on, Obi Wan feels a strange unease settle over him. Master Windu mentions that a speaker is needed to represent the Jedi for a special session of the senate. A request has been made to share the Jedi perspective on the Outer Rim sieges. Obi Wan tenses, though he doesn't know why.

"This is a voluntary duty. If you have any interest, please speak with Senator Bail Organa."

It's a simple task that could be delegated to any experienced Jedi Knight. But since the battlefront has expanded swiftly in recent months, it's unlikely any experienced knight can be spared, and likely that no one - master, knight or even padawan - will volunteer to step away from the fight for a series of speeches.

Yet, it's an opportunity to stay on Coruscant for at least the next few days, to stay close to Anakin and Palpatine, and possibly, to abide the only thing you've ever asked of him: To stay away from Utapau.

"I will go." Obi Wan finds himself speaking the words, as a surprised silence holds the council chambers suddenly still. "I will speak with Senator Organa this afternoon."

The holo-image of Master Yoda raises a brow and lets out a humph. "Feeling well, are you, young Obi Wan?"

Suppressing his unease, he lofts his chin and answers steadily, "There are several senators who have been hesitant in providing aid where it is needed, and I would like the chance to speak with them."

Anakin's eyes had been following each speaker looking somewhat detached, up until now. Obi Wan can feel the younger man's gaze sharpen, suddenly boring into him from across the room. He shifts a glance out the transparisteel window, then looks back at Yoda, avoiding Anakin altogether.

"Very well," Yoda acknowledges, bobbing his head just once, slowly. "To the senate, Master Kenobi will report. Concludes local assignments, this does. Now, young Skywalker, news to share, have you?"

Flicking his attention back to the rest of the room and finally away from Obi Wan, Anakin straightens up a bit. "Yes, Master. Chancellor Palpatine has informed me of a possible location for General Grievous."

Now it was Obi Wan's turn to look surprised. Why Palpatine would have such knowledge before the council was beyond his understanding.

Master Plo seems to share the same thought. "Our reports on Grievous's whereabouts have been vague and inconclusive. How has the chancellor come into this new information?"

"The port administrator of Pau City sent out a call for aid after his entire administration was taken hostage."

Master Mundi's bushy brows flare upward. "Palpatine thinks General Grievous is on Utapau?"

The sound of the word forms a fist that grabs Obi Wan's insides and twists.

"A partial message was intercepted in a diplomatic packet from the chairman of Utapau," Anakin explains.

A logical reason for Palpatine to have first access to the information. But Obi Wan can hardly focus on the reasoning for anything right now.

Grievous.

He'll be weak. Especially with the demise of Count Dooku. Obi Wan feels a sudden wellspring of hope despite the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He would never have committed to staying on Coruscant if he had known.

"Act on this we must," Yoda's glowing visage asserts. "The capture of General Grievous will end this war. Quickly and decisively, we should proceed."

"The chancellor has requested..." Anakin's eyes dip away briefly before he seems to brace himself. "...that I lead the campaign."

"The council will make up its own mind who is to go. Not the chancellor," Master Windu is quick to respond.

"A master is needed," Yoda affirms, "with more experience."

"I concur," Ki-Adi-Mundi adds. He almost glances in Obi Wan's direction but seems to remember himself, turning toward Mace instead. "Master Windu should go."

Mace nods solemnly, and Obi Wan nearly opens his mouth to respond. But to say what? To do what?

Is this the will of the Force? Or his own desires fighting it?

No - the question is more simple than that: Does he trust you?

The moment passes.

"I agree," comes the slightly tinny, electronic sound of Yoda's voice.

"Aye."

"Aye."

The response is unanimous.

"Very well," says Master Windu. "Council adjourned."

Obi Wan can feel the shroud of fate enclosing the room as Mace stands to leave, likely to prepare for his departure. But nothing is sealed, yet.

"Master Windu," Obi Wan calls after him, the older man turning back to meet him in the long hallway outside the council chambers. "Please; a moment."

Mace regards him with a look of urgency, and Obi Wan can't blame him. This is the final break in the war they may all have been waiting for. There isn't a moment to spare. He'll have to convince him that this is worth the time.

"I believe you may be headed into grave danger," he says, lowering his voice as they step off to the side. When Mace lifts his eyebrows, as if to say 'what gave it away?' Obi Wan presses his lips into a firm line, resetting his approach. "More danger than can usually be expected from Grievous."

Mace drops his sardonic expression. "What makes you say that?"

"My former padawan. She's been having visions of Utapau."

When Mace responds by saying your name questioningly, Obi Wan tries to ignore the way his heartbeat quickens at the sound of it, and simply nods. "Yes. She was not able to share many details with me, but the Force seemed to be warning quite strongly. I think you should speak with her before you go."

Releasing a deep sigh from his chest, Mace seems to consider it. But they have known each other well, for many years. He knows Mace can feel his insistence, and the trust he's built with the man throughout their long friendship prevails.

"If you believe it will make a difference, I will see the Commander after I ready my troops."

Breathing a little easier, Obi Wan gives a respectful, grateful nod. "Thank you, Master."

Mace returns his nod, clasping his hands at his waist and adding as he turns to leave. "Though I can imagine she might be busy." He slides a look to the chambers just as Anakin exits alone, his dark form stalking off in the opposite direction.

"I assume your old padawan is hard at work keeping surveillance on mine."

"Right," Obi Wan concedes, eyes following Anakin as well. "For this, I am sure she will find the time."

--

Your commlink chimes. A light flashes against the wall where it sits, out of reach.

You trade a look between your teacher and your commlink, and he gives a vaguely permissive tilt of his chin. You stand, pressing the button to answer.

"Did you know?" comes the immediate question, Obi Wan's voice strained. "Did you know who was... there, when you asked me not to go?"

His emphasis tells you what he's talking about, and reminds you that no recorded line is currently safe. So you keep your answer short and to the point, after a second's hesitation. "No."

As you turn back to face the man in your quarters, you see nothing. He's dissipated beyond your eyes and your senses. You're alone again.

"You're certain?"

"No," you answer more firmly, glad you can be honest with him, about this much, at least. There's a pause on the other end. "Obi Wan-"

"Is there anything at all that you aren't telling me about your visions?" he talks over you. "Were there any details you left out?"

Gripping the commlink, you find yourself leaning your body toward his voice. Despite the urgency of his question, hearing him helps you ground yourself. Refocusing, you concentrate on his questions. You desperately want to ask him who it is that's caused this sudden renewal of interest, but you know he can't give you a name at the moment.

"Why are you asking me this now?"

"Please, answer me."

You exhale, your pulse suddenly quickening. "Are you planning to go there?"

You can sense his frustration with you. He pauses again before giving in. "Not me. Master Windu. He plans to leave... very soon." A beat, as he presumably holds back further details. "But before he goes, I asked him to speak with you. Anything you can share might make a difference."

"I... see," you reply, carefully keeping the relief out of your voice.

"So, if there is anything you can remember, no matter how insignificant it might have seemed, you must tell him. Do you understand?"

"Yes." A sickly sweet feeling of alleviation, almost elation, flutters through your chest. "Yes, of course."

Someone is about to die on Utapau. And with your help, it won't be Obi Wan.

"I promise."

--

Before you had even ended your conversation with Obi Wan, there had been a knock at your door.

Your discussion with Master Windu had been short. You'd told him what you'd needed to.

And now, all that's left is to try and forget about it.

You try to forget the way he'd smiled at you, brown eyes soft and holding more hope than you'd seen in a long time.

You try not to think about the lightness in his step as he'd left your quarters, possibly for the last time.

Mace Windu's face as he'd thanked you for your guidance is only a distraction, now, and you need to put it out of your mind.

Besides, it's not hard to shift your guilt. You're in the midst of betraying another friend's trust at the moment, as you press a button to activate the sound on a live feed of a dingy little storage unit on one of the lower levels.

You'd snuck down there shortly after leaving the temple the previous day, knowing immediately that Anakin's speeder would provide one of the best locations for unfiltered information.

It had made you sick, punching in the code that you wish you hadn't memorized to a rusted-out keypad and invading what he'd probably believed to be his last private sanctuary. You shift in your seat, testing the sound quality of the feed as you remind yourself that this is all in an effort to prove Anakin's innocence. He'll understand when you tell him. Someday.

You refresh the connection to a few other feeds strategically placed in Anakin's ship and personal quarters. Normally, for a target with a possibility of multiple conspirators, you would use cams, too. A visual feed could be critical in identifying suspects.

But Anakin isn't just any target. He isn't one of the scheming Separatist traitors you're used to tracking, and putting cams in his personal quarters is a violation you aren't willing to commit. Not yet. Not unless absolutely necessary.

You check your commlink for the fifth time in as many minutes. It's not quite showtime yet. Anakin had spent the remainder of his morning in one of the tactical planning rooms with Rex, monitored at all times, and had met his master directly afterward, to see him off. Mace will be notifying you once they go their separate ways. For now, cycling your feeds is the only thing to do.

That, and wonder when - or if - your visitor from last night will return.

A new knock at your door almost makes you jump, pulling your thoughts to the present. You silence your equipment, dimming the screens to black and pulling a compartment built into the desk closed. Cautiously, you answer the door, making sure to keep it cracked only enough to see you, and not enough to seem like an invitation to come inside.

"I thought we might have some time to talk."

Obi Wan stands on the other side.

Your hand releases its grip on the door, letting it open. When the door closes, you turn to face him. You should have been expecting this. After all, he'd told you that you'd talk as soon as time allowed. You just hadn't wholly believed it.

"You kept your promise."

You don't know why your voice holds a slight note of bitterness. Perhaps you're still struggling to control your emotions, trying to get used to your new relationship with the Force. Perhaps it's just lack of sleep. But he gives you a curious look, then smiles faintly. "I always do. Even the ones I've promised not to make."

You bring your eyes up to his. "That's true."

"But I would still like to know why."

You glance down, taking a few steps away to unlock the compartment again and take your equipment back out. You should have known better. That's why he's here; he wants information.

"What do you mean?" you ask, sitting down.

He crosses room to look into your eyes. "Master Windu stopped by to speak with you, did he not?"

You nod along with the question, not willing to bridge the gap and give him more detail than he asks for.

"Then I imagine he told you the significance of Utapau. That General Grievous is rumored to be there?"

Your chest tightens. "Yes, he told me. I shared with him everything that I could. Which wasn't much, unfortunately."

"Is there anything you can tell me that you already haven't?"

You take in a breath, pretending to mull it over despite already knowing the answer you'll give. Then you shake your head. "Not really. The only thing I can say is that the same feeling doesn't seem to apply with anyone but you."

"The same feeling? What feeling?"

"Of... failure," you lie, steeling your nerves as he stares down at you. It wasn't failure you'd felt. It was death.

"And with Mace, this sense of failure is not there?"

"No," you lie, to protect him.

"You're certain there's nothing more you can tell me?"

"I'm sorry," you lie, putting out of your mind the dozens of details you could easily share. Location, weapon, angle of attack...

"No. There's nothing. I wish there was more."

His shoulders drop as he regards you a moment longer before sinking down onto the edge of your bed. He drags a hand down his face. You don't remember ever seeing him look so tired.

"I'm sorry," you say, catching yourself sounding more sincere this time.

His eyes soften, the dull ache behind them subdued while he looks at you. "No, don't be. You've done nothing wrong."

He seems to think for a moment, gazing through you.

When he doesn't speak again, you turn back to the screens in front of you and re-activate them. To fill the silence, you mumble, "Everything is in place, now. For Anakin, I mean. Audio recorders practically everywhere he goes."

Obi Wan blinks, as if coming back to the present. "'Practically'? You didn't place one on his person?"

You shake your head. "Too risky. In his robes, it could be left behind. His clothing changes. And in his lightsaber, I'm sure he would find it. I don't know how, but I just feel he would... know."

Obi Wan nods. "Yes, you're right. So where did you place them?"

"His ship and his personal quarters, of course. The chancellor's office. And..." You trail off suddenly, realizing you'd almost let it slip.

He tilts his head, reading you carefully. Then his eyes seem to sparkle when it occurs to him what you're holding back. "And his speeder?"

For an instant, you're speechless. Then you remember who you're dealing with, and wonder why you ever doubted that he would know. You give in, a smirk surprising you by easing its way out. "He said he never told you."

Obi Wan lifts his eyebrows. "Some time ago, I heard engines in the background of one of his calls. I thought he might have returned to the underground racing circuit again, and I followed him down to the storage levels. When I saw that he was only working on a speeder and not some... customized monstrosity, I decided to leave well enough alone."

Your smirk turns into a smile, thinking back to Anakin's younger days of sneaking off to the races, much to Obi Wan's dismay. You'd both agreed never to tell Anakin's master, so long as he never went there again. You had your suspicions that he'd never been caught there again, but he'd probably never really stopped until the war started monopolizing his free time.

"Well, you're right," you admit. "I have a tracker there, too. So now, it's just waiting. He's with Mace at the moment, but it shouldn't be much longer."

Obi Wan nods, watching your smile fade. He leans forward. "You are right to do this, you know."

Again, the tightness in your chest returns. You stare at him, not quite sure how to respond.

"The situation is..." He glances away. "Complicated."

You read his real meaning: The council is wrong.

"But," he continues, "you are the right person for this job. If someone must be responsible for finding the truth, as well as protecting Anakin, I am very glad it's you."

With the last of his words, he leans over and places his hand on your knee. In spite of the heaviness of the moment, you feel like you're glowing. But you can't bring yourself to reach out and touch his hand back. As much as you want to, it doesn't feel like something you deserve.

Obi Wan clears his throat, gently pulling back to stand up. You're both quiet - not because you don't want to speak, but because there is too much to say.

After a moment, he starts to gaze around the room, taking in your simple decor, and it occurs to you that this is the first time he's set foot in your quarters in years. The same thought seems to be playing over his features as he slides his palm along the top of the dresser near your bed.

"Do you remember moving that in here?" you ask.

He doesn't exactly smile, but his gaze lightens. "Remember? How could I forget?"

The dresser is far too large and takes up more space in the room than is practical. It had held all your toys as a youngling, and when you became a padawan it contained all your most precious belongings - clothing, books, and even a few pieces of jewelry. Your dresser had been one of the only constant items to follow you into adulthood.

When you'd moved out of your padawan's quarters to join the rest of the knights, you'd found your new quarters much smaller. Seeing how much it meant to you, your master had spent an afternoon disassembling the dresser and piecing it together in your new room. He'd helped you shuffle it into the corner where it sits now, resulting in no small number of bumps and bruises along the way. You might have used the Force to slide it into place, but the risk of damage to the dresser outweighed the benefit of protecting your shins.

"I walked with a limp for a week, as I recall."

With a tilt of your head, you smile. "Only because you wouldn't listen to my instructions."

"I shouldn't have allowed it in the first place. Jedi Knights are meant to use standard-issue furnishings."

You step beside him, crossing your arms and looking down at the dresser as well. "I'm grateful you did. It made me feel at home, when everything else had changed so suddenly."

"Perhaps feeling at home wasn't what you needed," he says, still staring down. "Perhaps it would have been better to teach you a lesson in attachment."

He looks so serious that you're suddenly overcome with the idea of cupping his face in your palm and kissing him. Instead, you just tell him quietly, "You were never such a cruel master as to teach me lessons I wasn't ready to learn."

He turns to look at you, but says nothing.

"You knew how to teach me, and met me where I was. I always appreciated that. And I think it was why you succeeded where others had failed me."

Your words don't seem to cheer him up. In fact, they seem to have the opposite effect. His eyes are so full of sorrow he looks ready to collapse where he stands.

"Obi Wan," you ask, worry starting to set in. "What is it?"

He seems to consider a long time before answering. Then, it's as if you can see a decision being made.

"If Master Windu succeeds," he begins slowly, "If Grievous is captured, the war could end in a matter of days."

It's a possibility that up until now, you've hardly let yourself conceptualize. But his words make it seem closer to the truth than ever before.

"There will still be much work to do, of course. But the transition to peace could be handled largely by the clones, once an agreement is reached. And the Jedi would no longer be an integral part of the military."

You nod, following his logic but unsure as to where he might be going.

"Yesterday, I came to realize something: I had been thinking of myself as two beings: One who walked the path of the Jedi, and one who..."

He trails off, staring intently at you, gaze steeped in emotion. You try to read him, but you can't. There is no opposite you can imagine to finish his sentence.

"One who longed to know another path."

Your breath stops. This can't be real.

"I had thought I could leave that part of me on Ilum, until... what happened between us yesterday showed me how wrong I was."

You swallow, shame fighting to burn as hot through your blood as the euphoria of hearing his confession.

"Yet, in a war, it made no difference. The right thing to do would be to-" He falters. Then he clears his throat and the words come out slowly and evenly. "To leave the Order. But I could not. Not when so many suffered."

"I..." Your voice cracks as you try to piece together what he's really saying. "I don't know what you're trying to tell me. You're leaving the Order?"

"The longer I stay, the more irresponsible it becomes to keep these secrets. If the fighting ends, I will tell the council I am no longer fit to serve."

There's a high-toned echo reverberating in your ears, as if you're crawling out from the rubble of a bomb being dropped.

"And- and go where? And do what?"

"I don't know," he admits. "I don't know what comes next. But there is a place on Saleucami - a small farm. I've always thought it was rather well-priced. I would not be disturbed, and could try to reconnect with the Force in peace."

You're quiet for a long beat. You don't want to ask the question, for a myriad of reasons. But you have to.

"Would I ever see you again?"

He smiles, very faintly. "If I am to find out what sort of Jedi I am, I must no longer turn away from these feelings. You would be most welcome to see me whenever you like."

Your heart seizes, pierced with a sudden joy so deep, so impossible, that it's painful.

He would welcome you. You could forge a new path, together, and away from everything that had ever kept you apart.

He's holding you gently in his gaze, waiting for you to respond, and you can only whisper, "And... when I come to see you..."

You close the distance between your bodies, trading shimmering glances between his beautiful, sorrow-filled eyes, his warm breath drawing you in.

"...yes?" he asks softly, encouraging you. It's half a question, half an invitation.

You brush your lips over his, feeling him open up and lean to the side. His mouth pushes back, his hand sliding up your cheek to rest behind your ear, his thumb at your cheekbone.

In the kiss, you can feel everything. The past and the future. The years spent at his side. The longing, heartbreak, and uncertainty. Disagreements, distance, and every other obstacle that had been placed between you.

The thought of a life together. Warm sunrises spent in his arms. Time that's no longer stolen, but yours for the keeping.

When the kiss ends. You're left staring at him, breathless with unbridled happiness.

"If I were to-" you begin, about to spill everything - to tell him that without the war as an obligation, you would have left the order long ago. You want to tell him that if he invites you to visit, you'll never leave his side again.

But low voices begin to fill the room, and reality crashes down on you, forcing you to remember that everything is, right now, still hypothetical.

There is no certainty the war will end tomorrow. The only thing that is certain is that the war is still very real, today.

As Anakin's muffled voice comes through the recorder, you close your eyes, pulling back from Obi Wan's touch and exhaling through your nose. You still have your parts to play. For now, there's nothing more to talk about.

Obi Wan gives you the space to step away, blinking down at the floor and back up again, mask firmly in place once more as you pull up the screen to see which feed is active.

Glancing down at your commlink, you see that Mace had sent you a message several minutes ago. You hadn't even heard it. Anakin left the temple a long time ago.

You check the active feed. It's his speeder, and there is a softer, lighter voice joining his.

"Ani, it's perfect. But, you realize we already have mine? We have all the transportation we'll ever need, and in Naboo we'll have my parents-"

"On Naboo you'll have everything," Anakin interrupts. You turn your head for Obi Wan's reaction. He doesn't give one.

You've both gone stiff, frozen in place. It's one thing to suspect, but another to confirm with your own ears: Anakin is with Padmé. And within the simple exchange, it's already blatantly clear this is not a professional consultation.

It's surprising, certainly, but not a complete shock to either of you. Anakin's feelings toward the senator have been clear to both of you for a long time, and Obi Wan has told you Padmé hasn't seemed to rebuff his interest since their capture on Geonosis. But a bit of flirtation is one thing; a clandestine meeting is another.

"You've made it clear how much you'll have," Anakin goes on, "but this - this is from me. It's something I wanted to do for you. For us."

There's a short silence, and the sound of shuffling. Your breath goes shallow; tight. They're probably kissing.

"You do enough for me. I don't need things," she tells him. "I just want you."

There it is: undeniable. You chew the inside of your lip, tense and uncomfortable.

Anakin's response is soft, yet insistent. "Let me take you for a ride."

You can hear the smile in Padmé's voice. "Do you think it's safe? You know..."

The lilt at the end of her question is odd. So is her question, really. You've never known her to show fear of anything.

"Of course," Anakin answers, and you hear the closing of doors signaling that they're getting in. "Don't worry, I'll go slow." Another strange thing for him to say. Perhaps this is him flirting. "We can't go very far anyway. I have a meeting with the chancellor in an hour."

"I can't be long either," Padmé says over the whir of the engines. "I'm still in the middle of drawing up that document. I promised to have it finished by the end of the day."

Anakin makes an annoyed sound. "And I suppose that means you're having another 'working dinner' this evening?"

"Ani-"

"You promised me that you would take it easy. You should be resting."

"I feel fine, Anakin. You shouldn't worry so much."

Is she sick?

"It's my place to worry," he insists. "And it's your place to do as I ask."

She's quiet for a moment. You want to throw a glance at Obi Wan, but you don't want to compound your concern along with his, yet.

Padmé replies quietly, with a forced lightness in her tone that's almost apologetic. "You don't need to be so protective of me, Ani. I can rest when we leave for Naboo, and the baby and I will have all the help we need back home. I promise."

It hits you like a punch in the stomach. Obi Wan is absolutely silent, his jaw rigid. A permanent false picture of control is plastered over his features. You can't even begin to imagine what he's feeling beneath it.

"Obi Wan, it's-"

"Don't," he bites, the low word hanging between you. "I don't wish to discuss it."

He knows you too well. You can feel the anger and sadness rolling off of him within the Force, knowing he's contained as much of it as he can. He knows you would have tried to help him understand Anakin's position, comparing it to your own mistakes. But this is different. Decision after decision had to be made to place Anakin here. This is not impulse. It's a choice. A dangerous, foolish, and deliberate choice to which he's repeatedly committed himself.

You listen to the rest of their conversation, and soon Anakin drops Padmé back off at her apartment. There's a length of time where Anakin is on his own again, dropping off the speeder and returning to his ship, presumably heading for his meeting with Palpatine. During the interim, one of your screens lights up with a message from the council - Master Windu has located Grievous. The fighting on Utapau has begun.

When Anakin enters the chancellor's chambers, Obi Wan's blue stare is fixated on the screen as you both listen. You can feel how tense he is. He's waiting for the very instant the meeting ends.

"Chancellor," Anakin greets. "We've just received a report from General Windu. He has engaged General Grievous."

"I only hope Master Windu is up to the challenge," Palpatine answers readily, the timbre of his voice as withholding as ever.

"I should be there with him," responds Anakin, quietly. It's an inappropriate comment for him to make, but he knows that. He said it not with the tone of a General speaking to high office, but as someone confiding in a friend.

"It's upsetting to me, to see that the council doesn't fully appreciate your talents. Don't you wonder why they won't make you a Jedi master?"

Your pulse quickens. It's long been suspected that the chancellor encourages Anakin's disagreements with the council. You hold your breath for Anakin to correct him.

"I wish I knew. More and more, I get the feeling that I'm being excluded from the council."

Your heart sinks, and you can see the sting on Obi Wan's face, though he tries to remain impassive, listening intently. Anakin goes on, adding fuel to the kindling Palpatine has given him. "I know that there are things about the Force that they're not telling me."

"They don't trust you, Anakin. They see your future. They know that your power will be too strong to control."

You're deadly silent, briefly checking that the recording is being stored as you turn up the volume.

"You must break through the fog of lies the Jedi have created around you. Let me help you to know the subtleties of the Force."

Eyes wide, you turn to Obi Wan.

"How do you know the ways of the Force?" Anakin retorts, sounding as stunned as you feel.

"My mentor taught me everything about the Force. Even the nature of the dark side."

A sick chill runs through your bones, and suddenly your stomach is halfway up your throat.

"You know the dark side?"

"Anakin, if one is to understand a great mystery, one must study all its aspects. Not just the dogmatic, narrow view of the Jedi. If you wish to become a complete and wise leader you must embrace... a larger view of the Force," Palpatine explains, ever the benevolent leader; ever the kindhearted guide. "Be careful of the Jedi, Anakin. Only through me can you achieve a power greater than any Jedi. Learn to know the dark side of the Force, and you will be able to save your wife from certain death."

"What did you say?"

"Use my knowledge. I beg you."

The sound of a lightsaber exploding to life. "You're the Sith lord."

Obi Wan is running for the door, closing the distance in two bounding strides.

"Wait!" you call after him.

"I've heard enough. Send a message to the rest of the council and tell them where to find me."

"I'm coming with you."

"No," is his reply, as he throws the door open. "Do as I say. Anakin and I will handle this. He's too powerful for you."

"I can help," you insist, almost begging. This is what you trained for. He doesn't understand how powerful you've become. He doesn't know that it was all for this; leading to this moment.

"You can help by making sure that recording goes on file in the records department immediately, and by remaining safe inside the temple."

There's a pause as Palpatine's low voice interrupts, freezing you both where you stand.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asks.

Anakin's blade hums. "I would certainly like to."

You and Obi Wan stare at one another, all your concentration fixed on the tiniest of decibels coming through the recorder.

"I know you would. I can feel your anger. It gives you focus. Makes you stronger."

The galaxy stands on a knife's edge.

The blade extinguishes.

"I'm going to turn you over to the council."

Obi Wan's robe snaps in the rushing air.

"Stay here," he calls over his shoulder, sprinting directly into the maw of fate.

You don't bother to close the door after him. Already transferring the recording to the archives, you're dashing out a few moments later.

--

A/N: The final chapter and epilogue will be posted tomorrow! Sorry for any confusion - this turned out much longer than expected!

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