#(the fact that Bail and Breha Organa seem to have made a point of always speaking to and of Ferus with respect)

[bluescluelessly]

Tossing the Script out the Airlock (and Good Riddance to it)

[Rating: Teen] || hurt/comfort, suspected infidelity, polyamorous relationships, made up Stewjoni biology because George Lucas didn’t say Obi-Wan wasn’t a little weird and if he’s gonna give his birth planet a stupid name then I’m gonna give him stupid biology tweaks, and use of Dai Bendu, the language of the Jedi (translations at the bottom of the post)

tw: mentions of grooming (because Palpatine)

Ships: Bail Organa/Obi-Wan, Bail/Breya, Anakin/Padmé

Palpatine tries to convince Anakin that Padmé is cheating on him with Obi-Wan. Anakin confronts his friend about it, finds out a bit more than he bargained for, and not at all what he was expecting to. 

°|●.*•

From the Revenge of the Sith Novelization:

“That’s why I put you on the Council. If the rumors are true, you may be democracy's last hope.”

Anakin let his chin sink once more to his chest and his eyelids scraped shut. It seemed like he was always somebody’s last hope.

Why did everyone always have to make their problems into his problems? Why can’t people just let him be?

How is he supposed to deal with all this one Padmé could die?

He said slowly, eyes still closed, “you still haven’t told me what this has to do with Obi-Wan.”

“Ah, that – well, that is the difficult part. The disturbing part. It seems that Master Kenobi has been in contact with a certain Senator who is known to be among the leaders of this cabal. Apparently, very close contact. The rumor is that he was seen leaving the Senator’s residence this very morning, at an… unseemly hour.”

“Who?” Anakin opened his eyes and sat forward. “Who is this Senator? Let’s go question him.”

“I’m sorry, Anakin. But the Senator in question is, in fact, a *her*. A woman you know quite well, in fact.”

“You–” He wasn’t hearing this. He couldn’t be. “You mean–”

Anakin choked on her name.

Palpatine gave him a look of melancholy sympathy. “I’m afraid so.”

Anakin coughed his voice back to life. “That’s *impossible!* I would *know*– she doesn’t… she couldn’t–”

“Sometimes the closest,” Palpatine said sadly, “are those who cannot see.”

Revenge of the Sith, Matthew Stover, p. 250

°|●.*•

This is it. Anakin is going to just… ask him. He’s not sure what he’ll do if he finds out Obi-Wan has been sleeping with his wife, but…

Well, he’ll figure that out if it’s true.

He went to Padmé’s apartment, felt for himself the evidence that Obi-Wan had been there.

Now, he needs the truth. He needs to be wrong.

“So… I heard you spent a late night with a senator,” he asks, trying not to sound overly accusing. Obi-Wan always gives him the benefit of the doubt.

Several emotions flicker across Obi-Wan’s face then. He eventually fixes his gaze on Anakin, a modicum of panic in his eyes. Anakin’s heart sinks.

The next words out of his old Master’s mouth, however, catch him by surprise.

“You… know about Bail?”

Anakin’s eyes go wide. No, he didn’t–

– but he can’t help thinking he knew it, it was a male senator –

– “Bail?” He blurts out, confusion showing. “No, Palpatine said–”

“– Palpatine saw me with Bail?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice rising an octave.

“No–” Anakin insists, hands going up in a placating gesture. “Not– I didn’t know about Bail. I uh. Palpatine told me he heard you were seen leaving Padmé Amidala’s Apartment.” He explains, and some of the worry drains from Obi-Wan.

“Oh,” he says, sounding infinitely relieved. “No, I, er. Well, I definitely haven’t been making ‘late visits’ to Senator Amidala.” He gives Anakin a curious sort of look. “I hear she’s spoken for, not that I would pursue her, in any case. It would be… awkward.”

“Awkward?” Anakin asks, feeling as if he’s missing something.

Obi-Wan gives a tired sort of smile. “Besides the fact that my preference is not for the fairer sex; she once made an advance, and I turned her down.” Seeing Anakin’s flaring temper, he is quick to clarify, “long before your knighting, Anakin. But, as I said, awkward.”

Anakin nods, appeased. Then, he remembers there’s a more important topic to focus on here. “So… Bail?”

The reaction is immediate; Obi-Wan’s face blushing a dark red as he looks away. “Yes, I– if you could keep that to yourself, I’d appreciate it.”

To hell with it, Anakin thinks. “Sure Master, I’ll keep your senator a secret if you keep mine.”

“The fact that you think your relationship with Senator Amidala is a secret is adorable,” Obi-Wan responds, a glint of amusement in his eye. “Half the council is still asking me why they weren’t invited to the wedding; I can’t give them an answer, as I wasn’t invited either.”

Anakin looks shocked by that information, which is truly endearing. “Wait, they aren’t mad?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “You proved to me that you could put responsibility over your wife on Geonosis. Relationships aren’t forbidden so long as there’s not an unhealthy attachment involved. Anyways, we’ve always bent the rules a bit for you.”

Anakin feels as if a weight has been removed from his shoulders. A weight that Palpatine put there, he thinks.

The old man has been wrong about the Jedi on two accounts now… why does Anakin hold what he says about the Jedi in such regard?

Perhaps he should fact-check more of the Chancellor’s absurd claims.

“Ah.” Anakin responds intelligently. “… so why does your, um, thing with Bail need to stay a secret?”

Obi-Wan’s red cheeks return once more. “Well. A… few reasons. Not that I think I’d be in trouble for it, but… I’d like to respect Bail’s privacy. He is, after all, Married.”

“Does Breha not know?”

“She knows,” Obi-Wan assures his former Padawan. “I wouldn’t agree otherwise. But that doesn’t mean they want the whole senate knowing about their … arrangement with me; or others.”

Again, Anakin nods to show his understanding. “The less people who know, the better. Right…”

“Exactly.”

“Still,” Anakin starts, bemused, “I didn’t take you for the 'mistress’ type.”

A complicated flurry of emotions cross his friend’s face. “… neither do I,” he responds, a little clipped. “I think of myself more as Bail’s type.”

Anakin realizes how insensitive that came off a bit too late. “I’m sorry–”

Obi-Wan waves him off. “It’s difficult to understand when I haven’t explained. Bail is Bi; he generally prefers men, but his heart belongs fully to Breha. I prefer men as well, and I have… a condition… so we came to a mutually beneficial arrangement, in which Bail and I enjoy one another while on Coruscant, as he and Breha cannot be together as often as they’d like to be.”

Anakin gets all that, he does. But one thing sticks out to him that he feels needs to be clarified. “You have a condition?” Is Obi-Wan sick?

If its possible, Obi-Wan grows more embarrassed. “Well, I’m from Stewjon.”

That clears nothing up.

At Anakin’s clueless expression, Obi-Wan sighs and explains. “Right, quick biology lesson. Somewhere down the evolutionary line, it was decided that Stewjonians need more incentive to reproduce. So, while it isn’t necessary in order to live out a full, average life span, our bodies naturally produce more beneficial hormones during sexual intercouse. This means, the more I…” he pauses, looking displeased by the verbal corner he’s painted himself into. “… get laid, the slower I age, the faster I heal, and the less sleep I need. All beneficial to fighting a war, yes?”

That’s all news to Anakin. Fascinating. “So do you have… other arrangements too?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “As of now, just Bail. I could, of course, visit the lower levels to the same effect, but I find it safer and more preferable to have intercourse with someone I like and trust.” Less likely to catch something that way, too.

Anakin nods, strange mixtures of relief and utter confusion swirling in his mind. At least he knows Obi-Wan has no interest in Padmé… but that doesn’t explain the way he felt his presence in the force, in her apartment.

“Okay. Uh.” He hesitates, knowing there’s no real, good way to word this. “Just… to be 100% clear, you’re not having secret meetings with Padmé in an attempt to overthrow Palpatine and the Senate?”

The look Obi-Wan gives Anakin would make someone think he had just grown a second head.

“… no, wherever did you hear such nonsense?”

Anakin rubs the back of his neck, feeling the last bit of worry ebb away. “Just rumors.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Truly, the Senate gossip gets wildly out of hand. I’ll admit, I do on occasion have tea with Padmé, but there’s nothing treasonous about friends visiting one another and trading stories and doing each other’s makeup from time to time.” He pauses. “And while neither of us have very high opinions on Chancellor Palpatine’s term, there’s no plot against him, as far as I am aware. We are both just eager for this war to end, and for him to release his emergency powers so the Republic can return to democracy.”

“You think his rule is undemocratic?” Anakin asks, looking appalled by the idea.

“He’s been in power long past his elected term,” Obi-Wan points out. “A new Chancellor should have been elected already. Over this time, he has used the war to gain far more emergency powers than any one person should hold.”

Sensing Anakin’s impending argument, he continues. “… Of course, this makes it far simpler to fight a war; I simply worry that when the war has ended… he won’t give up his power so easily. He has resisted peace talks, and every other attempt to bring this war to an end sooner. So I… have concerns.” He gives Anakin a tired sort of smile. “But last I checked, he hasn’t yet made it treasonous for Padmé and I to exercise our right to free speech.”

“Of course not,” Anakin responds, sounding distracted. He’s always thought having one person to make decisions was a good thing… or, does he just think that because Palpatine has told him it’s a better idea so many times?

He has many things to question. But, more importantly right now, Obi-Wan mentioned make-up?

Anakin shakes himself from his thoughts, giving his friend a curious look. “Uh. Rewind a second. Did you say Padmé did your make-up?”

“And I did hers,” Obi-Wan answers easily. “We both had dates.”

That would explain why they were, in some cases, sitting closer than friends would; as far as he could tell in the force.

“Bail takes you on dates?” Anakin asks, curious but trying his best not to be pushy about it. This is something new, which he never anticipated learning about his Master… he wants to know more, but as a Jedi with his own secret significant Senator, he understands the secrecy.

“Not all of them are Bail,” Obi-Wan answers after a moment, as if weighing how much he should admit to. “But yes, he does. He’s quite a gentleman really; I do look for other potential partners, but I fear he’s spoiled me for most.”

Anakin can imagine; having a Senator as a partner is pretty nice. “The tea is that good?”

“And the company,” Obi-Wan agree, a crinkle at the corner of his eyes. “I’ll admit… I’m glad you know now. I don’t like keeping secrets from you.”

That warms Anakin’s heart, so much that he doesn’t quite know how to express it, so he deflects. “If you have pictures of yourself in that makeup, you better not keep them secret anymore,” he teases with a grin.

the teasing pulls a laugh from Obi-Wan, who shakes his head. “I don’t; but I’m certain Padmé has plenty. I think she even took a few of us the one time Bail stopped by her apartment to pick me up.”

Oh, he is definitely getting those from his wife later. “So Padmé knows about you two?”

“She introduced us,” Obi-Wan admits fondly. “I don’t share details with her, but she’s a smart woman.”

That she is. “Why am I the last to find out?” He protests, trying his best not to let it come out sounding whiny. 

“Because, my dear padawan,” Obi-Wan starts, gently ribbing him. “You are a dear friend, and an unparalleled partner in combat, but you can’t keep a secret to save your life.”

“I can keep a secret!” he argues! “I swear, Master, no one else will ever know. I only talk to you and Padmé, anyways.” He pauses, “Well, and Palpatine.”

“And he mustn’t know,” Obi-Wan insists, more serious now. “Bail is one of the leading senators advocating for clone rights and peace talks, Anakin. He is a good man. And, he disagrees with Palpatine quite often. I shudder to think what the Chancellor would do with this information, should he find out. I wouldn’t put it past him to use it in an attempt to not only discredit Bail, but to berate the Jedi as well.”

“But neither of you are doing anything wrong,” Anakin states, frowning.

Obi-Wan’s eyes close for a moment. “And it’s not wrong for a system to want to remain neutral and out of the war, yes? And yet, Palpatine did everything in his power to try to strongarm Republic forces onto Mandalore, even rushing a vote 3 days ahead of time, without Satine present, based on a doctored holorecording.”

Anakin doesn’t look at it that way… but he’s not going to argue with Obi-Wan where Satine is involved. Though he now questions how romantic their relationship really was, he knows they were, at the very least, close.

“Just please, don’t tell him, Anakin.” Obi-Wan persists, looking up at his friend beseechingly. “If for no other reason than Bail values his privacy.”

“Of course,” Anakin agrees easily. “Like I said, I won’t tell anyone. I just… nobody really talks to me about Palpatine like you are now. I guess most people know he’s my friend and are too afraid to say anything less than flattering… You’re giving me things to think about.”

“I try to be honest with you whenever I can,” Obi-Wan responds cautiously. “You aren’t a child anymore, and though old habits are hard to break, I don’t want to keep sheltering you as if you aren’t a capable adult.”

“I sense you have more to say,” Anakin prompts when Obi-Wan doesn’t immediately continue.

His friend nods, looking troubled. “I know he is a close friend of yours, Anakin, and one of the few people you knew and liked here, after leaving your home. Which is why I–mistakenly, I think–didn’t object to his interest in you. Initially, I had hoped another friend would make your transition from Tatooine to Coruscant easier… but… well. I find the way he treats you… inappropriate. In some cases, predatory.”

And with those words, Anakin suddenly feels on the defensive. No, Palpatine is his friend, like a grandfather to him. He isn’t… predatory, or–

Obi-Wan’s hands are up even before Anakin can think of a rebuttal. “I don’t claim to know all the details… but the fact that when you were younger, you didn’t feel comfortable telling me anything of your activities on your outings with him says quite a lot, Anakin. And more than that, when I started to suspect something was amiss, and attempted to join you on visits with him, or simply ensure you weren’t left alone with him, he used his position as the Chancellor to strongarm me into backing down. It was… is, concerning.”

And, that’s news to Anakin. He understands why Obi-Wan hadn’t told him sooner, too. He was a headstrong kid; any attempt to protect him, especially from someone he saw as a friend, Anakin would have just taken as Obi-Wan ‘controlling’ him. He knows better now; after years of being Obi-Wan’s equal. But then, it may have just pushed him away, and further from where Obi-Wan could attempt to protect him.

Still, he feels the need to explain himself. “It’s not– He didn’t do anything… like that…” He starts, floundering a little. “It’s just, I didn’t want to tell you, because he took me places I shouldn’t really be going, and I had fun, so…” might as well come clean now, it’s not like he can get in trouble for it anymore. “He used to take me on trips to the lower levels, like, clubs. And he taught me how to make a chance cube land on the side I wanted, so we would find corrupt senators, and cheat them out of their credits. And, Palpatine said he gave the money to charities, so we were doing good things, you know?”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, and Anakin is reminded of when he tested his patience early on as a padawan, and his Master would silently count to keep himself calm.

He hasn’t needed to in a long time, not since well before Anakin was knighted.

And despite what the action reminds him of, Anakin knows his Master’s temper isn’t directed at him.

“… Anakin,” he starts, tone gentle but tight. “Please, just. For a moment, put Ahsoka in your place. If she was telling you what you are telling me now… what would you think?”

And Anakin’s gut does a flip, because deep down, he already knows.

He… he knows that Palpatine uses him, says one thing and does another, feeds him constant doubt about his friends, about the Jedi…

He knows this, and yet, no one before has had the nerve to say anything even slightly negative about Palpatine to his face. No one has ever dared do anything but say how great his close friend, the Chancellor, is.

Because like Anakin, people are afraid of him.

He feels a tremble start in his fingers, finally faced to acknowledge how afraid he is. How much it terrifies him to know that Palpatine holds all his secrets, that should Anakin ever be less than his enthusiastic friend, he could be ruined.

He, the hero with no fear… is afraid; a frightened boy in the face of a decrepit old man.

And only now can he show it, in the presence of the only person he’s ever known to have the courage to speak up about someone so untouchable.

As if sensing Anakin’s oncoming panic, Obi-Wan interrupts his thoughts, voice kind and sad. “Anakin, dear one, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He moves closer, and any restraint Anakin had breaks.

He feels 9 years old again, lost and seeking comfort in Obi-Wan’s arms. “I can’t say no,” he whispers brokenly. “Master– Jaieh, I’m terrified of him.”

Hearing Anakin call him Jaieh, like he hasn’t since he was young, since it was too hard for him to call anyone ‘Master’ without dredging up bad memories, Obi-Wan accepts Anakin into his arms, no hesitation or holding back.

Anakin needs support right now, needs to know that he isn’t alone in this, that if he asks, Obi-Wan would walk right into Hell with him. “Enoah foh bika, Anakin.” he promises him, reassures him. “Enoah foh mikeelal.”

“Paienoah kodaih bika,” Anakin says, but it comes out unsure, like he’s asking. Like he doesn’t know if he’s accepted, if he’s really not alone in this.

Obi-Wan’s heart aches, and he holds Anakin closer, pressing a reassuring kiss to his temple. “Haj Dai, Anakin. Paienoah kodaih bika.”

Anakin shatters then– or it feels like he does. So many doubts, so many fears, and Obi-Wan bats them all aside with a few words. Words said so easily, words Anakin feared shouldn’t apply to him.

He cries, his earlier suspicions and anger forgotten, absolved now, as he is faced with the truth that Obi-Wan cares for him; that his best friend is his truest ally, that Obi-Wan accepts him and will always accept him.

As he allows himself to acknowledge that Palpatine is a liar and a manipulator, and he is (and always has been) coming up with vile falsities in his attempts to drive a wedge between Anakin and Obi-Wan; the one person he can rely on absolutely.

And through it all, through his tears and his shattered sense of self, Obi-Wan holds onto him; not judgement or disgust, nothing but kindness and acceptance as he carefully picks up the pieces and helps Anakin piece himself back together.

How he could ever doubt Obi-Wan’s character… he would say he doesn’t know, but he remembers. He knows all the little things Palpatine said, all the betrayals he implied, the way he twisted Anakin’s thoughts to see himself pitted against Obi-Wan instead of regarded with him, as he should. They are a team, The Team.

He should have recognized long ago that their accomplishments aren’t a competition, they are an accumulation of the good they can both do, together and apart.

Anakin may be late, but late is better than never, and he recognizes it now, at his lowest and most vulnerable moment. A competitor wouldn’t hold him and build him back up, stronger than before. A friend does that, a friend and mentor and good person.

When he can speak, albeit in a watery way, Anakin wipes his eyes, face still hidden in his Master’s shoulder. “What am I going to do?”

The answer doesn’t come immediately, and that in itself is a reassurance. Anakin doesn’t want unthought-out platitudes, he wants honesty, and preferably, a plan.

“I don’t know what we can do right this moment, Anakin.” Obi-Wan admits. “He is still the Chancellor… and that won’t change until we end this war. But I can promise you this, my dear padawan, you will never have to go see him alone. You need only ask, and I will be by your side. And as soon as circumstances change, I will do all there is in my power to make sure he never comes near you again, Anakin.”

He sniffles, more reassured by the realistic response than he could ever be by promises that can’t be fulfilled.

“Then we’ll just have to try harder to end this war, huh?” Anakin goes for an optimistic tone, hugging Obi-Wan more snugly.

Another comforting kiss goes to his temple. Obi-Wan is frugal with his shows of affection, so it means all the more now that he is giving them so openly. “We will, Anakin.” He promises, and his voice is so steady, so sure, the rock that Anakin can always lean against. “Together, I doubt there’s anything you and I can’t do.”

“Together,” Anakin agrees, a knot in his very soul coming loose. 

Obi-Wan is right. They are The Team, and that isn’t just a title. Together, they can do anything they set their minds to.

They can defeat Sith Lords, they can end a war, and maybe, just maybe, they can even save Anakin Skywalker’s soul from the Devil.

°|●.*•

Dai Bendu Translations

“Jaieh” || ● Simplified Meaning: Master

Literal Meaning

roots: ‘je’- mystic, ‘ai’- mastery, non ownership. so ‘one who is a Master in the ways of the Force’, implying more like a teacher than an owner.

“Enoah foh bika, Anakin. Enoah foh mikeelal” || ● Simplified Meaning: I am here, Anakin. I am with you.

Literal Meaning

Enoah fo - I am (in a permanent state, not transitive) 

bika- here

[Anakin]

Enoah foh- I am (in a permanent state) 

mikeelal - comitative ‘you’/with you.

“Paienoah kodaih bika.” || ● Simplified Meaning: We are here together, now and forever.

Literal Meaning

Paienoah - We are (in a permanent state, and this has implications for the future)

kodaih - Exclusionary ‘We’ - all of us jedi (exclusionary, implying the inclusion of Anakin in the Jedi and alluding to the exclusion of Palpatine as not a Jedi)

bika - here. 

so essentially, “We are jedi, and we are together, and Palpatine is not, and this matters for the future.”

“Haj Dai, Anakin. Paienoah kodaih bika.” || ● Simplified Meaning: Yes, Anakin. We are here together, now and forever.

Literal Meaning

Haj Dai - literally ‘Force Wills’, a reassuring ‘yes’.

[Anakin]

Paienoah - We are (in a permanent state, and this has implications for the future) [italics stress is on ‘are’]

kodaih - Exclusionary ‘We’ - all of us jedi (exclusionary, implying the inclusion of Anakin in the Jedi and alluding to the exclusion of Palpatine as not a Jedi)

bika - here. 

so essentially, “Of course, Anakin. We are jedi, and we are together, and Palpatine is not, and this matters for the future.”

Thanks to @jasontoddiefor @ghostwriterofthemachine for the translations to Dai Bendu, their fancrafted Jedi Language!

[yubsie]

Hand Me Downs

Breha gives Hera baby gifts. Which means she can pass them on to Leia for her child. (AO3 if you prefer)

No one had warned Hera that being a high-ranking member of the Rebel Alliance was going to involve ruffles. She was prepared for overwhelming odds, to risk her life against an enemy who gave no mercy. And in the early days, that was exactly what she got. A lot of sneaking around and flying and getting shot at and  wearing a flightsuit . Then she’d worked her way up through the ranks and found herself having to attend formal dinner parties that covered for high-ranking strategy sessions. The perils of being a general.

If she had a choice, she would have gone for formalwear with a bit of slink to it. But her rapidly expanding midsection didn’t lend itself well to that at all. The only dress she’d been able to find in... whatever her current size was took the philosophy that the bump could just blend in with the rest of the floof. Her attendance in her condition would surely fuel all sorts of gossip about her and the man Breha had chosen to sit her next to. Gossip was useful; it meant that everyone was speculating about her personal life instead of what they might actually be discussing. The trouble was it also meant they were speculating about her personal life and the child who hadn’t volunteered for this. It wasn’t even the worst thing to happen this week, but it felt so incredibly alien.

She wished she could talk to Kanan about it. He would have delivered some sort of over-the-top compliment. And then Ezra would have somehow still not noticed. At least she could still hope to explain to a very baffled Ezra where her child had come from.

But neither of them were here. Now she had the new constant figures of her life: Mon Mothma and the Organas. She trusted the high-ranking members of the Alliance; it would be disastrous if she couldn’t. She even liked them quite a bit. They were good people. Friends, even. They just weren’t family, and she wanted so much of that around right now.

Her glass represented their current target in the makeshift map they were drawing up on the dinner table. The fact that she was the only one currently restricted to water set it apart conveniently from the wine glasses representing rebel units. She tapped Bail’s glass. “If we bring the demolitions team in from the west, they’ll have the sanitation droids as cover.” Sabine would be thrilled, she was sure. Garbage had so much artistic merit.

Mon Mothma nodded. “And that will help minimize the collateral damage to the surrounding citizens.”

Ierlin Allston, head of their fledgling public relations department, nodded. “The benefits of that are pretty obvious.”

They probably didn’t need to consider it from the public image perspective. It was enough that it was right. But it was still a useful angle. Anything to win hearts and minds over in the fight against the Empire. While also winning key weapons factories. They had a solid plan that was sure to go out the window and require extensive improvisation, but at least they had something to build on now.

It was also as far as the plan could possibly go before that first engagement with the enemy. They were still waiting on several key intelligence reports Mon Mothma had hoped they would have in time for this session. There hadn’t been a way to postpone the dinner party that wouldn’t attract suspicion when the information. So they would have to fill the remainder of the dinner party with actual dinner party activity. Definitely not Hera’s specialty, that was more for those who had come here from the senatorial side of things.

“General Syndulla, a word?” She didn’t actually know enough about the etiquette of these sorts of parties to know if it was unusual for Breha to break away from her carefully balanced seating arrangement. They’d eaten most of the courses at this point, so perhaps mingling was entirely normal.

At any rate, when the Queen of Alderaan requested a word, one gave a word. She didn’t need to know anything about royal etiquette to realize that much. “Yes, of course.” How was she supposed to address her? They were on friendly terms, and in a flightsuit she would probably address her by name without a second thought. She really was out of her element in all these bolts of fabric. Who had bought out the store to construct this ridiculous dress? “Your Majesty?”

The queen smiled. “It can still be Breha.” She paused. “This is absolutely a personal interaction.”

Hera had almost forgotten what those felt like in recent months. They were always for family, but even the ones she could locate were scattered. Zeb and Kallus came by often, but they had their own work. It was often just her and Sabine, since Ezra vanished. And she didn’t want to put too much pressure on the girl. It wasn’t fair. “It is?”

“You know, Leia was rather unexpected.” It was obvious enough where that was coming from. No one had to be told that she hadn’t planned this. Even if Kanan had lived, they were in the middle of a war, and she still wasn’t quite sure how she was going to balance the baby with all of that. How she was going to keep him safe. He would need her to step back, especially at first, but he would also need a safe galaxy to grow up in. She had to find a way to give him a mother and a future at the same time. It would have been easier if Kanan were here to help. But she’d tried to stop dwelling on things that were well and truly impossible. She had to deal with the situation as it was.

“Wasn’t she adopted?” That was the sort of development one usually tried to plan. It didn’t just happen like having strange symptoms weeks after losing the love of her life and realizing that the Force apparently wanted more little Jedi running around. Or something like that.

Breha laughed warmly. “She was. The last days of the Clone Wars were the strangest.”

She’d only been a child then, but old enough to realize how quickly everything was changing. The galaxy suddenly looked completely different and as dangerous as ever. That was just never going to end, it would seem.

“We had talked about it, but I wasn’t expecting Bail to come home with a baby that day.”

Hera couldn’t even imagine. She was already struggling to prepare for her baby with months of warning. Having one just show up was a logistical nightmare. But she wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going. “You seem to have managed quite well. She’s remarkable.” The princess was involved in more missions of late. And she didn’t disappoint.

“There are... certain advantages to a hereditary home. The attics have more than anyone could possibly use in a lifetime. So it was easy to prepare a nursery.”

That wouldn’t really help on the emotional front, but sometimes logistics were the easiest thing to focus on. Their supplies had never been so well documented as right after the liberation of Lothal.

“I was wondering how you were doing on that front?”

“I...” She’d been trying to figure out how to care for the child. “Our usual suppliers don’t tend to trade in infant goods.”

“That’s what I thought.” She would never have expected a queen to be so practical before she met Breha. But what was government if not a giant exercise in logistics? She’d seen quickly that Princess Leia Organa had not been routinely handed off to nannies. They probably would have attempted to exert some sort of moderating influence to keep her out of the Rebellion. “Bail and I wanted to give you a few items. Some clothing, a travel bassinette. We have more spares than we could ever need. Leia could be a great-great-grandmother before we had to reuse a single item. It will go to so much better use with you, I think.”

“I...” She suddenly pictured items from a royal palace tucked into one of the Ghost’s empty rooms. The image was strange enough to bring laughter instead of the usual sadness at the state of those rooms. “That’s so generous.”

“Alderaan favours simplicity.” Translation: don’t worry, I’m not handing you something jewel encrusted to furnish a freighter. “The craftsmanship is excellent.”

Hera rested her hand on her belly, taking a moment to imagine her future. “He’ll be the most elegantly dressed baby at the spacestop.”

***

No one had warned Leia that victory would involve quite so many Functions. She should have been prepared for them, growing up in a royal palace, but after fighting a war for so long, she’d let herself forget. Now they moved more and more toward an actual government, and she had to learn an old role all over again. She’d gotten used to her days involving more strategy sessions than dinner parties.

Of course, she still had military officers approaching her. They just wore the notoriously unpopular dress uniform now. They had barely had a uniform at all when her parents first let her get involved in the Rebellion. Now there was a dress variant, and the people who wore it had no end of opinions. Even if a general would, of course, never breathe a word about it. “Senator, a word?”

Leia maneuvered herself around carefully. That was the only way she could actually move these days. Her small stature made her increasing bulk feel all the more unwieldy. “Of course, General.”

“It’s really more of a Hera conversation.” They’d known each other too long to always stand on ceremony. Right now, Leia didn’t much care for standing at all. “Can you handle the walk to the Ghost?”

“As long as there are chairs at the end.” At least they had enough history that she could admit that.

Hera nodded and started to lead the way. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she said almost automatically.

Automatically enough that Hera immediately raised an eyebrow.

“Tired.” It was a completely different brand of exhaustion that the sleepless nights in a battle zone. Not necessarily worse, but unique. She’d never grown a human being before but it was taking more out of her than she was eager to admit. Especially when she was trying to convince her staff she wasn’t an invalid. “Exhausted, really.”

Hera smiled. “It’s like that a lot. I’m not going to lie and say it gets better, but it’s a nice sort of exhausted. Most of the time.”

“How’s your son doing? I hope he’s well.”

“He spent this last deployment with Zeb and Kallus. He’s amazing, even if keeping up with a Force sensitive child is more work than three full starfighter squadrons.”

More of a preview of her life than she meant it to be. Deep in her heart, she knew that was true, but she hadn’t had anyone who’d knowingly experienced that to talk to. She couldn’t have been that bad a child, could she have?

She probably had. “Just regular squadrons, I hope?”

Hera shook her head. “All of them are Rogue Squadron.  All   of them.” Current reports indicated that the general they were currently attached to was rapidly balding. Also making remarkable progress through former Imperial territory but in utterly exhausting and unexpected ways. “Of course, I don’t really have a non-Force sensitive child to compare him to. Sabine was already a teenager by the time she was in my life.”

She could handle it. At least she had some amount of Force sensitivity herself. Poor Han, she should warn him. Maybe have him talk to Hera, if they could stop arguing about the relative merits of their ships long enough to discuss anything else. This might actually be important enough to manage that.

Hera keyed in the sequence to open up the hatch and led the way into the common area. Which had some remarkably comfortable chairs. Well chosen. Maybe she could get Han to install something like this on the Falcon. At the very least she had to find out where these cushions came from. Maybe she could even sneak one for the next Function...

Once she was suitably settled to relieve her overtaxed feet, Hera tried several times to open a conversation. Finally, she managed, “It can be hard to stop thinking about who you desperately want to be there, with a child.”

Leia’s hand drifted to her belly. “Han’s the important part.” She’d worried a lot when he was off dealing with Kashyyyk. But he was back now and ready to be part of their son’s life. It wasn’t like what Hera had had to deal with when her son was born. She had so many others around her, it wasn’t fair to wish for the things she couldn’t have.

“A baby can never have too much family. The whole crew helped me with Jacen.” She reached over and took Leia’s hand. “And so did two people who would be the most delighted grandparents anyone could ask for.”

Hormones were completely unfair. She was a senator; she couldn’t go crying like this. “I keep thinking of all the traditions I always thought any child of mine would participate in.” There was a lot involved with being the heir to the throne of Alderaan. For all that she’d complained, she couldn’t have imagined back then things going another way. Her child wouldn’t be the heir to anything— only a field of rubble.

“I had no idea what I was going to do without Kanan. But your parents were so kind to me.” She’d been busy with her own missions and a certain amount of teenaged tunnel blindness, but she did remember General Syndulla being around more often in the months leading up to the Battle of Yavin. She’d assumed it was all about the Rebel Alliance getting more established and the longtime leaders having more work to do. But of course, a pregnancy would change the day to day activities of a general. For all that she told her staff she wasn’t an invalid, she did occasionally have to slow down.

“They were always like that.” That was why it hurt so much. The galaxy needed people who were that kind. She tried to carry on their legacy, but she could only do so much. It would never be enough.

Hera pulled two crates forward and opened the first to reveal an assortment of baby clothes. She handed Leia the top onesie to examine. It wasn’t the sort of clothes she would have expected an active rebel to pick out, but these must be Jacen’s old things. They didn’t get a lot of babies in the Rebellion, after all. She ran her hand over the fabric. “This is beautiful.” It almost felt like rannasilk. But the only place to get that was... “It can’t be...”

Hera handed her another piece of clothing. The same craftsmanship. The same material. “Your mother said she had more than she could ever dream of using.”

“I remember. We had more than we could ever need, but no sense letting perfectly good things sit by, even if they were a little bit too luxurious.” It wasn’t what most people expected of royalty. But Alderaan wasn’t like anywhere else in the galaxy.

“She told me you could be a great grandmother before they ever had to reuse any baby things.” And then all of that had gone to waste when Tarkin said fire. Except for these boxes.

Leia held the onesie to her heart. Any connection at all.

“The other crate is a few items of furniture. I assume you have something permanent set up at home, but they knew I was mostly going to be travelling.” Settling down only became a real possibility for any of them in the past year. And even that was slow going. “It would make a good shipboard nursery.”

She’d been surprised that Han was willing to make changes to the Falcon. Putting in a galley. If he’d do that for her, surely their baby would also be worth it. They weren’t going to leave any permanent marks, and there was that strange room that Lando kept referring to as his cape closet. There wasn’t much in there but junk now. They could sort through all of that and make space for the baby. Space for... she opened the crate.

A perfectly crafted travel bassinette. Just like she would have slept in for all but her very first trip to Alderaan. Artfully carved, solid craftsmanship. Though the straps attached inside didn’t look at all Alderaanian. A practical addition, but added with respect for the aesthetic. She tugged on them. Solid, that would keep a baby from going anywhere even if his father decided it was a good idea to go into an asteroid field. But also quite lovely.

“That was Sabine’s work. Alderaanian royal politics don’t tend to quite rival an active rebellion for excitement.”

“If you go far enough in our history...” There was a reason Alderaanian royals had found themselves drawn to rebellion. She’d like to think it was all about justice. But they didn’t come from a tradition of sitting quietly, no matter what her tutors had tried to convince her of at the time. “I hope they’re never necessary.”

“That’s what we all hope for our children. And we actually have a chance at giving it to them, thanks to the work your parents started.” Started. They’d all continued it. And now, her child would have more of a link to that than she’d ever dreamed.

“I don’t know how to thank you enough for this gift.” She didn’t expect anything from family for the next generation. It would have been a foolish hope. That was all lost years ago in the worst moment of her life. Except, it seemed, this one gift. Because her parents had taken the time to care for someone else. They couldn’t have known this would come back to her; they were expecting her to use the rest of the excess in the palace’s vast storage.

She would have to teach her child to be like them. Dreaming cradled in this gift they didn’t know they were giving him.

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

The Mask of Death Chapter 14 - For Her Sake (Vader Being Scary Fanfic)

Bail Organa had never been so terrified. He felt the layer of cold sweat damp and clammy against his forehead, his lips drawn into a strained grimace to prevent them from trembling. He had been through war zones, kidnappings, terrorist attacks and assassination attempts. He had aided Jedi fugitives Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi as they went into exile, right under the nose of the newly announced Emperor Palpatine. He had adopted the daughter of one of his best friends in the wake of her tragic passing, and was actively raising her as his own. He had seen the child’s father murder younglings, in the name of The Dark Side. What he hadn’t counted on was for said adopted daughter to grow to resemble her father more and more with each passing day. She had her late mother’s political lenience, her debate skills, her keen intellect, her dark hair and brown eyes. But she had her biological father’s dry sarcasm, his stubbornness, his nose for trouble, his courage.

Anakin Skywalker died on Mustafar, Obi-Wan had said. At the very least, he had been left for dead, consumed by flames. Perhaps, Obi-Wan had known that was a lie. Perhaps, he had known his former apprentice lived albeit a changed man.

Bail had never been as closely linked to Anakin, he’d been Padmé’s close friend and although Anakin had always been polite and easy to make conversation with, there’d always been a barrier he couldn’t penetrate. Sometimes, he’d wondered whether Anakin was jealous of his friendship with his secret wife - something he wouldn’t find out about until much later. Either way, whereas Obi-Wan and Yoda had deemed Anakin Skywalker to be dead as soon as he transitioned from Jedi Knight to Sith Lord - Bail didn’t share their opinion. Perhaps Obi-Wan had loved the boy too much to see the darkness in him, but Bail has noticed his dull edge early on. What little he had gathered from Padmé when she would mention him, had only served to further his suspicions.

Bail had been wary enough, knowing he’d need to keep his daughter, Leia, under wraps to hide her potential from the Emperor, were she to have inherited her father’s Force abilities. That was trouble enough, knowing the power of Palpatine whose cunning intellect had played both sides of The Clone Wars right into his own hands. No, worse yet was this.

Leia was all of six ars old, and while Bail would have preferred to leave her behind on Alderaan with either his wife, Breha, or a handmaiden, or nursing droid - her big brown doe eyes pleading with him to attend the senate banquet with him had made him cave. It might be dangerous, but she hadn’t displayed any latent Force powers so he deemed it safe enough. She was his daughter, there was no reason for anyone to suspect where her biological heritage might come from. Except, once they arrived - little Leia dressed in a baby blue, frilly gown with puffy sleeves, befitting of her status as crown princess of Alderaan, and a sheer embroidered silver scarf resting over her narrow shoulders - the banquet had turned out to be preceeded by an unprepared gathering. Apart from Bail Organa himself, the small party involved Mon Mothma of Chandrila, Gall Trayvis, Burla Pao, Adrian Loto and Lafreeda Zint - all member of The Imperial Senate, as well active members of the organized secret Rebel Alliance. That in itself was enough to make Bail break into a nervous coldsweat.

Still as the less than unwitting senators settled down, realizing far too late it may be a trap rather than an actual briefing - they were joined by three additional party members. The first two, Bail knew all too well. Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin, with his receeding silver hair meticulously combed back; his piercing, steel gray eyes scanning the faces of each attendant. His thin lips twisted into a callous smile, as he gave a curt bow of greeting before settling down at the head of the long table. The warm mahogany shades of the unusually well decorated dining lounge seemed so much less inviting, his presence bringing everyone up on their toes. Bail felt Leia’s big, dark eyes study his expression as she peered up at him from the spot on his lap where she sat poised; before her gaze travelled over to Tarkin’s gaunt, lanky form.

Hard on his heels strolled the newly appointed Captain Rae Sloane, whose prestige had gained her favours to climb the ladder after her aid had helped retract the Emperor himself unscathed after an assassination attempt over Ryloth; lead by a close ally to Bail himself, twi’lek freedom fighter Cham Syndulla. Her frizzy dark curls were tied back into a neat, tidy ponytail and she held her head high, confident in her newfound position. Bail had no doubts she possessed the ambition necessary to make a name for herself. It was the person to follow after her, that made Bail’s heart drop into his stomach. He gulped, and bit back the bitter taste of bile that welled up in his throat; hands suddenly unsteady as he held Leia closer to his body, as if that would help secure her. It didn't ease his nerves.

Captain Sloane sat down on the chair next to Tarkin, looking suspiciously like his right hand woman, and the small smirk on her painted lips suited her. The third guest the Imperial party had brought along, no doubt as an intimidation factor as he cared little for politics, opted to stand silently to the left side of Tarkin’s chair. His strong arms were folded nonchalantly across his wide chest, the constant sound of his respirator giving off a rhythmic pattern - breathing in and out in steady intervals. Behind the trio, at least a dozen stormtroopers, armed and ready, loomed outside the hydraulic doorway. They stood immobile, the door locked on open as a grim reminder of their presence. But Bail didn’t even glance at their gleaming, polished white armors and helmets. Instead, he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from Darth Vader; as the enforcer of the Emperor hovered like a makeshift harbinger of death right behind Tarkin.

Anakin Skywalker is dead, the Jedi exiles had said. But Bail had seen the holo recording, he had seen Emperor Palpatine - Sith Lord Darth Sidious - deem Anakin his new apprentice. Darth Vader, he had been dubbed. And Darth Vader was very much alive.

There were no physical remnants of the man whom the girl queen and senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo had fallen so madly in love with. Gone was the unruly dark blonde hair, the stormy blue eyes, the cocky smirk, the boyish attitude. Instead, Vader came across more like a reaper. Clad in all black, billowing cape trailing behind him. Taller than Anakin had ever been, by at least a few inches. Bail remembered Anakin had been shorter than him, but Vader made even him and his six foot three frame feel small; forced even him to tip his head backwards to meet the Sith Lord's gaze. Except, Vader’s gaze existed only as a pair of crimson, opaque lenses as eye holes for the face plate he wore. A mask, and helmet, concealing his identity. Making him unreadable, unpredictable. The mask itself eerily reminiscent of a human skull, with exaggerated and accented angles. As Bail peered uneasily down at Leia, he noted that her eyes, too, were glued to Vader’s form.

“I suppose it’s about time I explain the idea behind our little rendez-vous,” said Tarkin’s shrewd, authoritative voice.

“Please, do,” Mon Mothma agreed, faking a rather believeable smile as she invited one of her least favourite people in the world to take the lead.

Vader didn’t move. Bail wasn’t sure whether he was listening, or simply lending his physical form as a prop for intimidation. Even as Bail tried his best to pay attention to Tarkin’s lengthy speech of the Emperor’s supposed faith in this exact group of Imperial Senators - a blatant lie they were all aware of - he failed to maintain his focus. Instead, he carefully watched Vader out of his periphery; feeling Leia squirm, unruly on his lap as she began to get bored and restless with the drawled lecture.

“I was not aware there would be children present,” interrupted an unimpressed Vader, his tone booming and powerful as it ricocheted off the walls - in response to Leia’s annoyed grunt, as she attempted two wriggle loose from her adoptive father’s vice like grip.

“I’m terribly sorry, Lord Vader. Senator Organa was not aware of your direct involvement, we were summoned on the behalf of the annual banquet, as you are aware. He came prepared for the festivities,” Mon Mothma was quick to inject; and Bail stifled a small sigh of relief.

“I see. It is… unfortunate, that he lacks adequate foresight,” Vader replied, the short pause drawn out and premeditated, and Bail felt the hairs at the back of his neck rise.

To calm himself, he gently smoothed back Leia’s soft fishtail braid, looping it through his fingers and she huffed in protest.

“I apologize, with all due respect. This is my daughter, and while I agree that it is not an optimal arrangement, there is little else I can do at this point,” he quickly said, to hopefully mend the situation and direct the attention away from himself and back towards the issue on the table.

“I was under the presumption that you have little trouble gathering up servants upon request. A nurse would hardly be inssufficent for a man of your status.”

Vader seemed to go for a matter of fact delivery, but his voice was as monotone as ever, filtered through the vocalizer as it altered his naturallyspeaking voice. Anakin had had a cheeky, but soft tone - sometimes whiny, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes kind. The dry sarcasm persisted, but all else seemed to have ebbed away until only the unnatural baritone of the modulizer remained. Vader shifted a tad, hooking his thumbs casually into his belt and Bail had to force himself not to clear his dry throat when he realized the man’s head was tilted ever so slightly in his - and subsequently Leia’s - direction. The words were a thinly veiled jab, but Bail didn’t reply. Instead, he carefully bounced Leia a bit on his lap to amuse her and she seemed to relent for a moment, though she was back to fiddling with his laced fingers, determined to break free.

“Either way,” Tarkin picked up where he had been cut off, “ there is in fact a reason this security debriefing was deemed a necessity. The banquet will transpire as is tradition, but I was tasked with informing your particular parties of suspected terrorist activity in your immediate sectors. You are not being accused of anything, neither are you presumed to be involved with these nefarious activities. But, it is our duty as Imperial sovereigns, to warn you on behalf of the Emperor himself. Unfortunately, he will not be able to attend the festivities, much less this brief meeting. He does, however, send his best regards and my only priority is to forward his deepest condolences.”

It was nothing they hadn’t heard before.

In fact, Bail could count the very few and far between appearances the Emperor had made in person since the day he was announced as such. He blamed his physically marred features for his unwillingness to attend social ceremonies. Bail nodded, only half listening.

It was uncomfortably cold. A frigid, dry, jagged sort of icy chill lingered in the tense air. Before the Imperial trio arrived, the company had been warm and friendly, though poignant with suspicion. Now, the space seemed cramped, constrictive and suffocating. As Bail tried to focus on the culprit of the eerie, uneasy sensation - he found its source without really trying. Stinging, piercing, sharp pin pricks emanated from Vader’s direction. As if his very aura, his Force signature as the Jedi called it, was oozing off him. As if the sensation of dread was part of his very core, as if it was emitted from him in a cloud of invisible, foggy haze. Its shadow fell upon the small group, trapping them in despair, contempt and an awkward stillness. Peforating every inch of their perimetry.

That was the moment little Leia chose to make a break for it.

With an agile twist, she rolled around full body and slipped promptly out of her father’s now slack grip. Bail flinched, already reaching out for her to restrain her yet again, but she ducked and avoided his hands. In an instant, all eyes were first on the viceroy's helpless expression as his clumsy hands fumbled through empty air for his daughter’s tiny form. Then, they travelled over to Leia who had already managed to slip underneath the table; dive between Sloane’s legs to crawl under her chair, and pop up right in front of Vader. He towered over her, even as he too appeared to be staring at her petite figure. Her cheeks were tinged pink, the cold of the room nipping at the tips of her ears and nose. One tiny hand clutched at the lace embroidered along the hem of her lavish dress; the other was thoughtfully rubbing her little chin as she tipped her head so far back, she nearly toppled over to peer inquisitively up at Vader.

Bail was up on his feet in the blink of an eye, scrambling as he took a few rushed strides towards his daughter - and the Sith Lord. Vader regarded the small child, head tipped forward to grant him a better view through his seemingly cumbersome head piece. He said nothing, and Bail noticed the green and red blinking lights of Vader’s belt reflected in Leia’s large, dark eyes. He didn’t dare look away, didn’t dare tear his gaze away from the visage of his daughter standing in front of a child murderer, a monster - and unbeknownst to both her and him, her biological father. Bail’s outstretched hands retreated slowly, and he curled them into fists for lack of anything better to do with them. He let out a small gasp through an open mouth, and watched as it came out in a cloud of condensation. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Tarkin’s amused expression, one silver eyebrow quirked at the display.

“You’re cold,” proclaimed Leia in a high pitched tone after what seemed like an eternity. "You could get sick."

Vader did not reply, but neither did he ignore or brush off the comment. Bail felt his heart hammering wildly against his ribcage, as he watched in awe while Leia promptly reached up to slide the flimsy fabric of her decorative scarf off her shoulders with a shrug. She pouted, determination furrowing her fine brows as she stood on her tiptoes.

“This will help,” she declared proudly.

Wobbling slightly, she raised her arms as far as they would go only to tuck the frilled end of her little ornate scarf into the crook of Vader’s sturdy elbow. He stood unrelenting, and Bail wasn’t sure whether he should be horrified by how uncanny the child’s resemblance to her late mother was when she smiled; a wide, toothy beam revealing the missing front tooth. He felt fear pooling in his belly, his stomach churning and his face pale as Leia took a step back to admire her handiwork and thoughtfulness. She clapped her hands, pleased with herself. Vader’s hollow eye sockets shifted to stare first at the small girl, then at the scarf that was barely wide enough to reach around his arm where it rested draped over his elbow. Then, whatever spell had transfixed him seemed to wear off, as he turned his head to lock eyes with Bail. Even through the face plate, Bail could readily feel the intensity and weight of the bewildered glare he was rewarded. It took all his resolve not to shrink back; his concern for Leia’s safety winning out as he hurriedly closed the gap between them to scoop his daughter up into his arms, and settle back down in his seat. Tarkin was first to break the tension, as he chuckled at the unexpected display.

“You have raised a quite remarkable child, Senator Organa,” he said, his tone an odd mixture of snide and amused. “Let us hope she will grow up to develop your sense of propriety.”

The rest of the meeting progressed rather effortlessly, a tirade of threats and insinuations hidden behind a facade of protocol politeness and curtesy. Bail had heard it before, although the knowledge that the Imperial fleet had detected suspicious movement around the Alderaan system did nag at the back of his mind as a foreboding warning. Leia settled down, silent and obedient as soon as she had carried out her mission. The room was still freezing cold, but Leia was warm to the touch; her skin soft, and her head heavy as she rested it against her father’s chest. Soon, she drifted off into the light, easy sleep only a satisfied child could muster. Her expression remained proud even in her sleep, as a dark brown strand of hair fell into her chubby little face. As the party said their goodbyes, concluding the meeting, Bail gathered up his sleeping daughter to close to his chest - protective and paranoid.

When Bail exited, last in line, Vader lingered just outside the hydraulic doors. Tarkin, Sloane and the troopers were already retreating down the hall in the opposite direction - no doubt to touch up on their own appearances before the banquet come evening. Bail hoped Leia’s nap would give her enough energy to enjoy herself, seeing as there were more likely to be at least a few other children in attendance for her to play with. He hoped it'd help her forget the encounter, he didn't look forward to her asking questions about the Dark Lord. Still, as he moved to swiftly pass Vader, a chill went down his spine and he instinctively stopped; an inherent need to adress the man screaming at him to tread lightly.

“Lord Vader. I must apologize for my daughter’s brash behaviour. She can be rambunctious, she has a mind of her own. It will not be repeated, I assure you,” he said, in what he hoped was a respectful voice as he turned towards the other man to face him.

Vader stared dismissively down at him, his head tilting downwards as his gaze shifted to the sleeping Leia. She snored quietly, mumbling something intelligible as she rubbed her cheek against her father's frock. For a fretful instant, Bail felt terror wash over him as he dreaded the thought that perhaps Leia’s obvious resemblance to Padmé was not lost on Vader. Perhaps, he had put it all together. Perhaps, the effort that had gone into hiding Leia’s true parentage had been in vain, to no avail.

Hesitating, Bail held his breath as Vader reached into the left side of his inner robes - only to pull out the little, frail scarf he’d been offered. It was wrinkled, comically tiny where it rested across the Sith Lord’s large, gloved palm. He held it midair for a short moment, as an offering; as if unsure of what to do with it - and Bail took the opportunity to force out a hushed ‘thank you’, relief washing over him when he gently tugged at the end of the fabric and it slid effortlessly out of Vader’s loose grasp.

“Indeed. I would expect as much. For her sake,” Vader said as a reply to Bail's earlier attempted apology, and the impact of those words were not lost on him.

Without further ado, Vader turned on his heel to stalk in a quick pace down the same corridor Tarkin and Sloane had disappeared along. Heart still thundering away in his chest, Bail watched the black shadow of his form disappear in the distance, menace of his presence dying away with it. He knew what that threat meant, and he was determined to honour Vader’s assessment.

After all, Vader didn’t know the entire truth - and he was no stranger to spilling blood of the innocent youth.

------------

So, I love the installments I've written for Leia and Vader so far in this fic, and I wanted to write something from Bail's POV. What better than to have him fear for his daughter's safety the very first time she is introduced to Darth Vader? Leia is so young, she doesn't remember this encounter later on and whatever she may recall she would chalk up to a fever dream or childhood fantasy. Bail, of course, never brings it up again except for to Breha in secret.

Hence, my explanation for the existence of this chapter. Most of all, I wanted a different angle and take on the dread Vader emanates, and I'm glad to have another installment of this series out. It's been forever!

Enjoy!

Ao3 link below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24049894/chapters/69212226

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 18 - Year 2: February

(ao3 link)

In lieu of the incident with the sleeping draught, all prefects were mandated to enroll in Professor Palpatine’s brand new weekly Potions seminars. As the misstep with the Vitamix potion along with Maul’s nearing presence showed, it was ideal that all prefects be properly trained in the event that professors were once again subdued. This, they felt, combined with Professor Fisto’s ongoing dueling club, would prepare them.

Obi-Wan’s doubts of how prepared they could possibly be for something so unpredictable grew stronger with each day. Although he was already enrolled in the advanced potions class, he would never deny the opportunity to learn more. If anything, it would at least offer more practice.

“Given that it’s February, I figured it best we start with a common favorite amongst the masses of troublemakers,” Palpatine’s shoes clicked on the ground as he paced at the front of the room.

From what Obi-Wan understood, Palpatine didn’t receive any punishment for the accidental sleeping potion brew. Yoda had, of course, received a rather scathing howler from the Ministry at his supposed flightiness, of which he took the blame for. It seemed Anakin had stepped up and claimed it was he who accidentally knocked the draught in the already brewing potion.

That all certainly added up and did not help Anakin’s reputation amongst his peers.

“Any guesses to what that would be?” Palpatine asked, eagerly taking in the small crowd of Hogwarts’ best with expectant eyes.

Because this was a class full of prefects, each were considerably decent students and wanted to learn. There were exceptions, Obi-Wan realized as he looked over to a nearly snoozing Zeb, but they were outliers.

“Love potions?” Breha Organa said rather dreamily. Obi-Wan didn’t need to turn around to know she’d been looking at Bail as she said it.

“Right you are, Breha!” Palpatine smiled, “Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world, at that. Many of you and your students are for the first time diving into the wondrous and mysterious landscape that is romance. Some of you aren’t even aware that you are.”

Did he look at Obi-Wan on purpose? No, that would be silly. Palpatine always took care to rove eye contact throughout the classroom. It was a sufficient method of maintaining focus and Obi-Wan knew this, but he still shifted his gaze immediately elsewhere like he’d been caught copying homework.

“Love and potions aren’t all that different, really.” He continued, “The right and organic combination makes a fruitful and prosperous brew. The wrong and inauthentic combination is bitter and not made to last.”

“And if you’re not careful, you could end up with a wrinkly, scrawny little creature.” Zeb added knowingly, earning a few chuckles throughout the group.

“As if you’ve got anything to worry about there.” Caleb muttered, and much to Zeb’s dismay, acquired a more popular response.

“Boys, please.” Palpatine chastised, “I don’t want word to travel that Gryffindor’s prefects lost them points.”

“Cody would have an aneurysm,” Satine whispered and Obi-Wan only nodded in response. It was no secret to either of them that their friend was less than pleased with how bleak Gryffindor’s odds of obtaining either the House or Quidditch cup were becoming. If he heard that Caleb and Zeb worsened those odds, neither would be awaiting a very pretty conversation.

The troublesome two seemed to recognize this and justly shut their traps.

The class turned back to Palpatine, who seemed rather satisfied with the change in their mood and circled around the cauldron at the center of his desk. From it, emerged a pink fog that resembled a cloud at sunset and judging by the smile its scent drew from Palpatine, it smelled as pleasant as it looked.

“A love potion manufactures the deepest desires from the person who ingests it, manifesting them all at once in an intoxicating fashion that causes them to see the intended target in a different light.” He said almost reverently, “Ironically, it’s called a love potion, when it should really be called an infatuation potion.”

“That’s because you can’t build love from a substance.” Satine muttered from beside him. “Try as some might.”

Obi-Wan stared at the cauldron. He’d heard of amortentia. Evidently, a cheap ineffective version was sold at Zonko’s in Hogsmeade, though he never took much care to notice. He didn’t know much about love, save for the fact that it seemed highly unlikely for anything to recreate something as complicated as attraction.

She raised her hand, “Professor? Aren’t love potions banned at Hogwarts?”

“That they are,” Palpatine said with crossed hands, “Though that’s not to say they haven’t been smuggled in before.”

“Why would they do that?” A familiar high pitched voice from the back called.

Despite his interest in the subject, Obi-Wan couldn’t resist snapping his neck in turning to see none other than Anakin Skywalker sitting at the back desk, looking incredibly small in stature next to Onaconda Farr. Farr, in his defense, looked just as confused by Anakin’s presence as Obi-Wan felt.

“What are you doing here?” Obi-Wan asked him, “This is supposed to be for prefects only.”

“Not to worry, Mr. Kenobi, I did grant Anakin permission to attend.” Palpatine answered before Anakin could muster up a smart response, “Anakin shows a real knack for potions and given the circumstances, I would say it’s best that he be included whenever he could be protected.”

Obi-Wan slumped back in his chair, feeling properly admonished. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Anakin was capable. It was quite the opposite, actually, but there was an order to these things and learning advanced spells before one was ready did not seem indicative of a sound idea. Anakin needed to learn the building blocks still, whether he believed it or not. Despite his talent, he knew there was an absence of maturity to handle heavy source material. Dueling was one thing, as there was an obvious precedence for it right now and it was typically taught to some degree during second year anyway. Teaching Anakin about love potions felt more like giving a dog a steak and telling him not to eat it. He could try to convince everyone that he was over his crush on Padmé all he wanted, but it simply wasn’t true.

“To answer your question, Anakin,” Palpatine continued, “When someone is too blind with desperation to see reason, they will do just about anything to acquire what they want. A love potion, while sounding frilly and fun, occludes all rational thinking from the person it's given to.”

“And typically, it’s not ingested voluntarily.” Satine added.

Obi-Wan frowned, thinking of the potentially dastardly effects such a tool could provide for a desperately lovesick person. It was no different than being under a curse, in a sense, because the poor sap trapped in such a state had no agency whatsoever.

“How does one tell if someone is suffering from the effects of a love potion?” Fenn Rau asked.

“Why, you see them every day in young and happy couples as you walk through these halls. They’re starry-eyed, flushed, unspeakably happy, practically in a trance.”

“How are we to tell the difference then?” Obi-Wan asked.

“These features tend to be a good deal more exemplified and elongated.” Palpatine said, “For instance, while the honeymoon phase is technically normal, it’s really not meant to last. There’s also known to be loss of memory in the person as the potion begins to fade. We advise that you all keep an eye and see if you notice any excessively clingy and almost controlling couples.”

Obi-Wan thought about his parents, finding it very hard to believe they ever had any semblance of a honeymoon phase. They were so professional all the time that he’d rarely seen them even smile in the other’s presence. Of course, he was always splitting up sneaky couples that tried to sneak off to snog, so he supposed he did have some experience witnessing what Palpatine was referring to. Part of him was having a difficult time reconciling with the fact that it was their ancient potions professor who was explaining to them the complexities of romance.

“Because of the dangers that this possesses,” He waved a little pink vial around for all to show, allowing the light to catch it in a way that made it sparkle, “I believe it’s important that you understand these properties quite well and that you take care not to share this information outside of this room.”

There was a warning tone to his voice that was rarely used and Obi-Wan swore everyone sat up even straighter, though he doubted that was possible for Satine, who already appeared quite alert.

“It’s okay to take notes, of course, right?” Hondo asked from the other back corner of the room opposite to Anakin.

“Yes, but-” The older man did a double take as he whipped back around, “Hondo, what are you doing here?”

Obi-Wan thought it was fairly obvious what Hondo was doing and why he was suddenly so apt to take notes. He hadn’t thought to say anything when he originally saw him, seeing as if Anakin was invited, maybe he’d thought to include another unexpected guest. Hondo was possessed for a significant amount of time, after all.”

“Just trying to perfect my recipe is all.” Hondo had the gall to shrug, “What’s so wrong about that?”

“You mean besides intruding upon a meeting where you are not welcome and admitting in advance that you intend to sell an illegal substance throughout the school?” Palpatine asked, “I suppose we could discuss your time management skills, seeing as you have plenty of potion’s homework that you could be catching up on.”

Reading the room for a change, Hondo sighed like a great disservice had just been done to him, “You can’t fault a guy for trying.”

“Actually, I can. 15 points from Slytherin.” Palpatine crossed his arms, “And I expect your essay on Felix Felicis on my desk tomorrow morning.”

“My tutor isn’t going to like that.” Hondo grumbled as he walked by Obi-Wan, “He’s not even finished my Charms presentation.”

“Why would you say that to us?” Satine hissed, knowing full well that they were now going to have to look up the legitimacy of Hondo’s new “tutor” in their dwindling free time.  

“I’m honest to a fault!” He shrugged as he fully exited the room and was promptly locked out by Palpatine. He even took the effort of using two padlocks to secure the job. To be fair, Hondo was quite slippery.

“Now,” He said as he clapped his hands together once, “Why don’t we get to the important part? Brewing!”

***

This was a colossal waste of his time, skills, and resources.

While Sidious normally enjoyed when the school devolved into chaos, he did not appreciate when it stood in the way of his plans. Right now, his former apprentice was the obstacle that could feasibly destroy everything he’d worked tirelessly to achieve, all before it could truly start.

He knew he should have killed him when he had the chance, but Azkaban just seemed all the more fitting for the murder machine to waste his days away at the hand of his own failure. He would not make that mistake ever again.

So, it seemed Sidious’ own interests aligned with the rest of his colleagues: get rid of Maul. It felt peculiar- to be on the same side as the enemy, but if he wanted to defeat them, he needed this loose cannon of a pawn to be decimated before it was too late.

And through it all, the putrid “open-minded” community only served to remind him why they needed to be brought to an end. In what world would enlisting the Potions professor to teach love potions be useful? How he managed to seem convincing, he was unsure, because there was no greater waste of time than the frivolous pursuit of love. Well, unless it was being manipulated as a fulcrum for change.

Even with as little soul as he had remaining, if any, he still found the smell of amortentia to be utterly arousing. They certainly wouldn’t enjoy to know what he smelled when he breathed in amortentia: fire, ash, rubble, stained blood.

They should be barricading, sending students out in troves to hunt the demon down, and utilize the muggle-borns as bait in a trap to be sprung. Maul couldn’t resist the hunt. He knew such instincts never changed, not even from the waning sense of purpose that Azkaban reduced men to.

Instead, here he was, giving a pointless lecture on the dangers of love potions. After which, they’ll have another practice dueling session with snowballs. It was pitiful. At the very least, they should be using stones. Children needed to learn pain at an early age. They needed to become so familiar with the sensation that they found home in it. In the hearth of that home, is the power that exists from within. Only then, can they prevail.

He glanced to the back corner of the room and felt his lips twitch. Between this year and the last, Skywalker was becoming quite acquainted with pain. He grimaced as he took in the rest of the lot, noting how soft they all were as they nervously discovered what attracted them when they leaned over their brewing cauldrons. At least he’d been able to kick that waste of blood Ohnaka out. He was spared of that particular headache, especially when just looking at the boy angered him to no end when he considered how deeply that botched experiment failed. Truly, that family couldn’t do anything right- not even when under hypnosis.

He had no doubts that Maul was scoping out the land, realizing just how weak these wizards had gotten since he was in school- that his lessons from Sidious had always reigned supreme and that no one stood in his way, save for Yoda and Sidious, himself. That would be disastrous if anyone witnessed a reunion between the two. They would know instantly.

Then again, if Sidious were to capture and kill Maul, he would only further his popularity amongst the simpletons that allegedly “ran” their community. Perhaps, there could be salvaging of this wreck. Tyranus need not be the only one to pull strings in the wake of Maul’s drama. It was only fitting, since Sidious was the marionettist and this was to be his show.

Not only that, but such a feat would certainly impress the boy, who clearly had a sound reason for disliking Maul. While Sidious loathed the concept of needing to work towards the trust and approval of a child, understood that in due time, it would be worth it.

Even if such a boy nearly killed them all with his own klutziness.

Sidious breathed a steadying breath, just barely turned away from any possible lingering gazes.

He moved over to his desk and opened the top drawer. He needed a drink.

***

Satine, like many of the curious girls in her year, had done fair research on the subject of amortentia. Apparently, it had ruined its fair share of marriages as well as mental health states, making it completely illegal to produce for private or public subsidization. It seemed, curiously, only the aurors could do so with Ministry approval. That, much to Satine’s confusion, was the case for many subjects.

“Because I would hate to have a bunch of little zombies in my class, we’ll just be smelling the potions today.” Palpatine announced.

Despite her knowledge that amortentia affected everyone differently, she still wasn’t quite expecting the drunk-like sensation that filled her up from head to toe as she took a deep breath in from the fumes that emanated off the surface. Everything around her seemed to move in slow motion and her chest rose and fell with the relaxed notion of falling asleep, except she simultaneously never felt more stimulated in her life.

She’d never known that you could smell so many wonderful things at once yet still differentiate them for what they were and more importantly, how it got her flushed in a way that made her shift in her seat.

New books, homemade apple pie, crisp fall air, the lingering remnants of a minty aftershave wrapping around her like a scarf…

She started out of her reverie, blushing too mad to even consider looking to her left no matter how curious she suddenly was. Her heart was beating out of her chest and if she wasn’t absolutely certain of the potency of amortentia, she’d have the decency to be more embarrassed. Instead, she willed herself to calm down and refused to breathe through her nose any further, no matter how warm she felt when she had.

While none of what she witnessed was news to her per say, it wasn’t like she made a habit of lollygagging and daydreaming in the middle of a classroom setting. It was quite disarming to be so vulnerable yet also so close to what (or who, for that matter) was driving her crazy to begin with.

“Problem, Mr. Kenobi?” Palpatine was suddenly standing in front of them, which was at least a little bit of a distraction.

A ringing in her brain wanted desperately to ask him what he smelled, but she felt herself frown deeply when she noticed Obi-Wan was leaning with his entire face in his little cauldron, trying desperately to catch a whiff. Surely, if he got any closer, he was going to accidentally inhale the potion through his nose.

“I might have brewed it incorrectly.” He muttered, echoing a bit from still having his head in the cauldron.

“Let me see,” Palpatine urged him to lift his head and under normal circumstances, Satine might tease him for the little creases that the rim brought to his face.

The professor raised his nose to the fumes that still wafted through the air and smiled dreamily. She wondered if they would ever know what he was seeing when he inhaled the scent. It was none of their business to ask, but she really couldn’t picture Palpatine being in love with anyone.

“No, no, it’s perfectly correct,” He said with the airs of residual glee, “Why?”

Instead of giving him a straight answer, Obi-Wan turned to Satine, “I think I need you to move.”

Any previous concern, as per usual with Obi-Wan, was replaced with a scalding sort of annoyance only reserved for him, “What? Why?”

As she held her own special adverse reaction to him, he had one for her that matched. His eyebrows furrowed as he gestured to his cauldron. Sometimes, he was far too serious for his own good, “As lovely as your perfume is, you don’t need to go so heavy-handed with it! I can’t smell the potion.”

Satine, who initially believed they were going to get into an argument, found that she had no points to be made, because all that came out of her mouth was a little puff of air. Palpatine, if she had the eyes to spare him a look, was equally as surprised, even if not nearly as emotionally invested in such a rebuff.

“What?” Obi-Wan finally asked, growing more annoyed at not being in on the punchline.

Everyone else was suspiciously quiet too, much to Satine’s growing unease, but she could hardly spare a thought other than to say, “I’m out of perfume, actually. I sent Copikla home yesterday so my mum could send me a new bottle.”

Instead of being annoyed, the clouds seemed to clear, if only a little bit, and he flickered back to the potion, “But how-”

“-It smells different to everyone.” Palpatine, who looked between the two of them with his face stretched in discomfort and eyebrows raised beyond physics, clarified with a tone that was clearly meant for only them, “Based on what the individual finds attractive.”

All of the color seemed to wash out of Obi-Wan’s charmingly embarrassed face as his mind worked rapidly to wrap his head around that answer. Even though she hadn’t breathed in her potion again, Satine still swore she was suddenly feeling the effects of it.

“I- Well,” He tried to formulate a response, but to his credit, he had just admitted that he was at the very least attracted to her perfume (which she made the mental note to stock up on more frequently), in front of the entire class of prefects and Anakin.

“Oooooooh Obi-Wan likes perfume.” Anakin, while completely missing the point and a big teasing opportunity, shattered the tension that previously froze the entire room and everyone burst out into a fit of needed laughter. Even Obi-Wan laughed, though nervously, as he flashed Satine the occasional glance here and there through lowered lashes, as if trying to gage her reaction to this accidental admission.

She smiled. Clearly, it was to her benefit to read ahead of him.

“For what it’s worth,” She said in the midst of the uncontrollable chatter that erupted thanks to Anakin’s offhand comment, “You smell nice too.”

He blushed, which she found she quite liked the shade of pink on his face, “Thanks.”

It didn’t address the underlying implications, just as neither of them seized the moment to do so on Christmas Eve. She found it was just as frustrating trying to guess what was going on inside of his head as it was waiting for him to do something about the things she did know.

As much as she wanted the cat to be fully out of the bag, she knew the middle of Palpatine’s potions class wasn’t the time or place.

***

“I believe it’s a mistake to have any more Hogsmeade trips this year,” Qui-Gon said to his other heads of house and to Yoda, who was staring quite pensively out the window, “Not when we know what we know. It’s quite possible that Maul has an entrance to the school if he truly is behind what happened to Bultar Swan.”

“We have no real proof that he is, though.” Shaak Ti said, “It certainly doesn’t seem like his style.”

“While I know the usual term “innocent until proven guilty” is our mantra, I think we should consider being more hesitant with Maul.” Qui-Gon said.

“I agree,” Windu nodded, standing firmly next to him, “Though having more students out of the school would allow us a proper amount of time to sweep the school and see if he had any secret entrances.”

“We have that same opportunity at night.” Qui-Gon said.

“You know this school shifts and changes between night and day,” Palpatine said warily, “It is ever-moving and Bultar Swan was attacked in broad daylight in a common room.”

“Why are we not interviewing more Ravenclaws then?” Windu asked, “We’ve got to do something! Skywalker’s mother is missing and we all know that boy isn’t going to lay down and allow for speculation to simply rise without doing something foolish.”

“I don’t appreciate your assumptions of Anakin.” Qui-Gon said, “He’s a bright, even if impulsive boy, who is going through an unspeakable grief.”

“No one twice his age should have to endure what he’s going through,” Shaak Ti said kindly, “Let alone as young as he.”

“I’m not saying he has no reason to act out.” Windu raised his hands, “I’m merely stating that it is only a matter of time before he takes matters into his own hands.”

“That would make it easier for Maul, unfortunately,” Palpatine agreed, “Perhaps we should motion to shut off the Floo network?”

“Done that, I have.” Yoda spoke up, “Because used it, he did.”

“For what?” Qui-Gon asked eagerly.

“Unknown location, he accessed.” Yoda mused, “Unregistered through the network, it is. Talk to Dooku, I suspect.”

Palpatine frowned, “That can’t be good.”

“No, it can’t.” Windu agreed, “Can you extend your protective charms to Hogsmeade, Yoda?”

“Do that, I did, after we woke up from the sleeping incident.”

“Oh, so it’s safe then.” Shaak Ti shrugged, “The dementors haven’t detected Maul on the inside and he was last seen on Diagon Alley.”

“I’m sure this is quite exhausting for you, Headmaster.” Windu acknowledged.

It was true. Extending his powers over an entire settlement as well as the castle at all times would have drained any normal wizard to death. Yoda, as it were, was not a normal wizard. Even still, it was visible on his worn features that he was exhausted.

“Safe, the students should be,” He said instead, “But careful we will still be. Search the school we will for secret entrances while they are gone, we will.”

***

“Are they gone yet?” Anakin asked, ducking up from where he’d been digging furiously through his trunk. Rex who was sitting on the window sill keeping watch over the massive gates of Hogwarts nodded slowly.

“Yeah I think so,” He confirmed, stretching his arms above his head and yawning, “I dunno mate, don’t you think a nice Saturday in might be nicer than trying this again. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“Psh!” Anakin waved a hand, “Well we’re certainly not trying anything like that again. Although I would like to get another look at that sword.”

“I figured you’d seen enough swords in your short life,” Rex rolled his eyes, “Didn’t Dooku intend to sacrifice you with one?”

“It was still cool, but I’m not really trying to go to Hogsmeade, just give off a good impression.” Anakin shrugged before he pulled out his nicest T-Shirt, swiftly pulling the one he had been wearing off and switching them out, “Well how do I look?”

“The same but in green,” Rex deadpanned leaning his head on his hand, “If all we’re doing up here is playing dress up then I’d much rather get this show on the road.”

“Oh come on,” Anakin checked himself out in the dingy mirror on the back of the door. He was really hoping he’d run into Padmé; he thought she’d like it. He’d already seen her leave, but overheard her talking to her friends about Rabé meeting them later and taking the tunnels. His mum had bought it for him over the summer and he tried to push past the rising feeling of sadness, “We had to wait until all the prefects left anyways, I’m not really looking to be caught and dragged back here by any of them and especially not Zeb, who was eyeing us up pretty hard at breakfast.”

Rex shuddered, “Definitely don’t need him tossing us through the portrait hole again. It’s not our fault that the rest of the second years left without us!”

“I’d hate to see what happens if we’re caught alone of our own accord,” Anakin grinned, despite the true statement, such a thing wouldn’t stop them, “Well, let’s go before Windu gets here to babysit.”

“Right,” Rex grimaced, standing up and grabbing his wand. Anakin grabbed his as well, throwing it into his robe, it was much too cold to go around without it, and they headed down and out of the common room. He really hoped no one would snitch on them.

The two traversed the halls carefully. Keeping quiet for once to listen for approaching footsteps and ducking into a few empty classrooms to avoid the ghosts lurking around the otherwise empty halls. It took much longer than they’d have liked to make it down to where the tunnel’s entrance would begin. Luckily, the map showed Rabé’s little figure moving in that direction too, marking a bit of a clear path. She would lead them straight to Padmé.

Anakin’s heart rate increased for more reasons than being caught.

He thought better of it. Obi-Wan would probably kill him on the spot if he slithered out of the tunnel and into Hogsmeade. Not to mention, Maul was lurking around in the area looking for him. Maybe, if they caught up with Rabé in the tunnel, he could simply give her the necklace to give to Padmé.

It didn’t sound incredibly indicative of his house in terms of bravery, but he knew at least Obi-Wan would approve of his method.  

“Almost there!” Anakin grinned at Rex, but almost had his head knocked clean from his body when Rex grabbed his robe and yanked him hard into an empty classroom, “Wha-?”

“Shh!!” Rex was very much alert and his eyes narrowed as they both heard footsteps echoing off the walls. The footsteps paused just outside of the door and Rex cursed under his breath as a shadow moved towards the entrance. Rex glared at Anakin for a few minutes before mouthing, ‘You owe me!’ and straightening.

“Mr. Fett?” Palpatine’s confused voice echoed off the stone walls, “What are you doing here? And all alone?”

“Sorry Professor,” Rex gave Palpatine a rather over the top concerned look, “It’s just, I haven’t seen Anakin since breakfast and he did mention he was thinking about coming to see you.”

“To see me?” The professor sounded a little more surprised than Anakin thought he should, but perhaps he was trying to avoid looking like he picked favorites, “Well I certainly haven’t seen him. I’ll keep an eye out, but I’m going to need to escort you outside with the other second years.”

Anakin winced, of course even Palpatine wouldn’t be willing to overlook a student wandering the halls without an escort. He’d have to bring Rex back something good from Hogsmeade.

“Alright, thank you Professor,” Rex nodded, although he didn’t look very thankful in Anakin’s opinion.

Their footsteps faded away, but still Anakin waited a minute longer before darting from the classroom himself.

He wandered the empty halls, being extra careful to listen and flicker his eyes to the map. Rex was a little more perceptive than he tended to be. Anakin certainly didn’t want to get caught, but at least he knew what story to go with if he did.

Finally, he reached the entrance of the tunnel, looking around carefully, he quickly slipped inside and hurried to close the entrance, plunging him into complete darkness.

Anakin pulled his wand out, lighting it with a, “Lumos Maxima,” They’d been working to improve their maximizing skills in charms recently and Anakin felt it was paying off. The tunnels were rather boring and unremarkable. He remembered them being pretty long, though he’d never made it all the way to the end the last time.

He took his time, kicking away rocks and humming softly. He still didn’t want to give his position away if there was someone scouting the tunnel for mischievous students, but boredom without Rex crept in fast.

He paused a moment at an odd noise and listened hard. It was a soft shuffling noise and despite the echo, it sounded like it was coming from behind him. Could it be another student trying the same thing he was? Unlikely, most of the houses were pretty locked down outside. He wasn’t sure why the professors had been so insistent on a supervised snow day, but most students went for it.

That left the possibility that he was about to be caught.

Letting the fear of boring evenings in detention spur him on, he picked up the pace until he was running rather swiftly. With the way his wand was swinging, the light bounced around enough to make him motion sick so he gave it a quiet, “Nox,” not letting up on the speed of which his shoes pounded the ground.

He slowed when he nearly tripped over something lying on the ground, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid running right into someone.

Anakin fell backwards with an, “oof,” He tried to catch his breath for a moment, “Sorry, Rabé,” He said softly standing up, “While I’ve got you, I’ve got a question for you. Lumos.”

His wand tip glowed again, revealing him face to face with a student’s face frozen in a scream. This was not Rabé. Anakin stumbled back, tripping on what felt like the fabric of a scarf, before he saw the glint of eyes reflecting the light off his wand.

Yellow. Bright yellow eyes narrowing as they realized they’d been caught. Anakin felt his heart leap in his chest. Fear filling his lungs, causing him to nearly choke on a scream. He heard the eyes take a step forward and he scrambled to his feet and fell into a sprint. His wand light faded as his concentration waned and he shoved it into his robes.

He shouldn’t be running from Maul, because that’s who it was, of course. He’d vowed revenge even if Qui-Gon always gave him that sad sort of look when he said it. He should be back there giving that kidnapper a piece of his mind. He was the Chosen One, it was his job to save everyone and take down the bad guys.

Even as these thoughts played in his mind, he continued to sprint, fear pushing him into overdrive. He nearly screeched again when he ran full tilt into something human knocking them both to the ground.

“Bloody hell!”

“Rex!” Anakin was relieved to find someone he knew, but it wasn’t enough to stop the adrenaline that had him back on his feet and pulling desperately on Rex’s arm to get him to move, “We have to go now!”

“Great, I just escape Palpatine only to get caught again. Who is it? Windu?” Anakin nearly growled at the slow pace Rex was moving at.

“It’s Maul! We have to go!” That was enough to get him moving.

They didn’t stop to even breathe again until they burst from the wall and right into Professors Palpatine and Qui-Gon who nearly got bowled over.

“What-” Qui-Gon looked ready to start a lecture and Palpatine even looked like he was ready to dole out a few point reductions, but Rex cut them off quickly.

“Anakin saw him!” Rex was pointing his wand at the entrance to the tunnel like Maul was about to come out right then and there for a fight.

“Saw who?” Palpatine asked head tilting to the side in curiosity and Anakin nearly spat the name out as he joined Rex in his battle stance.

“Maul.”

***

The deafening screech that stretched from Hogwarts through Hogsmeade with painful clarity was one that very few students attributed meaning to. It wasn’t unreasonable that students, particularly younger ones, immediately leapt into disorder, running hither and yon, terrified they were about to be dive-bombed. It was a horrible sight to see, even if it didn’t make his job all the more difficult.

Designed with the vocal cords of mandrakes, the emergency siren was only used in times of utter duress and was a means of warning students and faculty to return to Hogwarts at once. Historically, it hadn’t been officially sounded since the early twentieth century. Even still, prefects were always trained on what to do in the event of hearing the siren.

All the training in the world still didn’t fully prepare Obi-Wan for the very real visceral reaction that the ear-splitting sound brought. Of course, he could not spare a single moment to think, a tough reality for a Ravenclaw, and immediately moved forward with what he’d been taught: gather his house, ensure they were all in company, and get them back to the school.

While not given a direct message with it, everyone seemed to share the same thought as he did. There was only one true reason that the archaic alarm would be used right now accompanied by the dementors that jetted across the sky: Maul was close.

Not only close, but likely in their midst.

Shop owners wasted little time in evacuating their premises and battening down the hatches, effectively snuffing the warm glow of Hogsmeade in a singular swoop. His brain was busy scanning the hysterical crowd that was amid constant motion, searching for every and any blue-robed student that he might come across. It occurred to him now that there was perhaps more meaning to the explicitly placed Hogsmeade dress code than the professors led on to. It certainly made rounding up students a lot easier when they were color-coded.

Moving around on the ice-laden stone walkways? Less easy. He’d not only had to catch his own balance in his haste, but many other wobbly students. Even Satine’s elbow was caught by him a time or two, of which she spared no time to thank him, though he knew otherwise she would. She was just as stern as him in their mission, practically grabbing students and sliding them across the way to the huddle of other students, hardly blinking in the process.

It was with this goal in mind that he was able to develop a razor focus that practically tuned out the alarm. That, or the pounding in his ears did a decent job of it. Silently, he found the space to be relieved that Anakin was safe back at the castle with the other younger students.

It couldn’t have taken more than a couple of minutes to successfully corral all of the students that lingered about. It wasn’t as though any of them truly wanted to sneak off, after all. The horror on everyone’s faces spoke volumes of their concern.

Each of the prefects did their headcounts rapidly, trying not to dawdle for a moment longer than necessary, all praying they reached the same number they started with. He felt capable of breathing again when Ravenclaw reached that quota. Gryffindor prefects, it seemed, had forgotten to include themselves for a moment, which briefly induced a panic that was quickly assuaged by an irritated Mace Windu.

Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous to be relieved that Mace Windu and Kit Fisto were the supervising professors that day, but it certainly helped their odds to have experienced fighters of dark magic alongside them. The sky grew dark above them, not from the descending sun, but from the mere presence of the dementors swarming together like an ominous storm cloud.

No one looked back as they were ushered down through the storm cellar beneath Honeydukes, which remained open only at Windu’s order.

“Move quickly, don’t linger, don’t stop, don’t pause!” He ordered in a booming voice that didn’t even need to be amplified with a charm.

While Gryffindor’s prefects had nobly volunteered to lead the charge of students down and through the tunnel, the others remained on the side, performing last-minute counts to ensure all made it safely while urging them to hurry it up. No one seemed to have a problem with performing the latter, but some were getting a little rowdy in the process.

“Hey, hey, this is not an excuse to push or shove!” Satine chastised a few overeager Slytherins, “The only way this works is if you work together!”

She was right, of course, but Obi-Wan believed it was falling on deaf ears. They were terrified and rightfully so. Perhaps they shouldn’t have allowed the Hogsmeade trip to occur in the first place with everything going on. It was almost like they were trying to lure Maul in. If that was the case, it was a very sadistic choice.

Padmé Amidala as well as her friends had been some of the last people to filter in, surprisingly, and tears stained their cheeks.

“Keep it moving, ladies!” Kit Fisto ordered.

“We can’t find Rabé!” Sabé, the girl who looked most like Padmé, cried.

“I’m sure she’s here somewhere.” Windu said, “Slytherin house reported no missing students based on their earlier count. Now GO!”  

“She came later!” Padmé insisted, pushing back against the hands of Fenn Rau, who was trying to make them descend down the ladder. “We never saw her!”

“Then maybe she never came at all?” Satine tried.

“She came.” Padmé looked between both of them, “I know she did! She wouldn’t flake out on us like that. What if something horrible happened to her? What if-”

“-We can explore these possibilities back at Hogwarts.” Windu said, “If she is indeed missing, I will waste no time in coming back for her. I promise you.”

“That is already a waste of time!” Sabé protested, “What if she’s hurt?”

“I cannot risk all of you, including these prefects, for one possibly lingering student. I need to get you back to safety. The tunnels will be locked behind us.” Windu said and waved his wand to provide a gust of air, sending all of the girls down the tunnel against their own will. Satine looked horrified at the choice and frankly, so did Windu for a moment, before he began insisting the prefects follow.

For Obi-Wan, time began to slow down as his brain methodically and almost mechanically traced back through that day, desperately trying to recall if he’d seen Rabé. She stood out among Padmé’s friends in that she was the only Slytherin and yet it was still odd to see them apart. Before the alarm had turned the world on its head, it had been a rather mundane and peaceful day at Hogsmeade. The weather had been nice, if not quite nippy. He’d popped into Tomes & Scrolls with Satine while Cody lingered around Spintwitches, but none of them bought anything. If they had, surely, it would have been lost in the chaos with many other student’s purchases.

He’d debated getting a box of every flavor beans, since Hondo said he had a game of Russian Roulette, but with the beans, brewing. Cody seemed interested and it sounded like less of a consequential gaming experience than Hondo’s usual ventures. He wasn’t afforded the opportunity to go into Honeydukes, but…

Obi-Wan felt his heart stop altogether in his chest. He hadn’t gone into Honeydukes, but he almost did. And who was lingering by the butterbeer stand when he was busy deliberating with Cody?

Rabé.

He’d only caught a glimpse of her for a fraction of a second before he turned around. Clear as daylight and standing at the far end of Hogsmeade. There were other Slytherins around her, but like Padmé, her hair was always intricately woven and this made her stand out.

Where did she go so that none of her friends saw her?

“She was here today,” Obi-Wan lurched forward, grabbing Satine by the arm on instinct.

“How do you know?” She began to ask, eyes searching his own with growing concern.

“I saw her.” He said and then shoved against the stream of students that were still pouring down the tunnel.

“Ben,” It was her turn to grab him, “Wait!”

He didn’t wait, though. Instead, he slipped out of her grasp, which had been firm enough to take his robe with it, and pushed through the crowd. Windu, never the slouch, noticed him instantly and his eyes widened as he realized what Obi-Wan was trying to do. Unlike Padmé and the girls, he didn’t give him the opportunity to stop him, instead lunging forward and falling into an immediate sprint out the door- the cold wind whipping his face so hard that it caused tears to freeze in their wake.

He vaguely heard his name shouted from behind him, but he could only think of finding Rabé before it was too late. It might have been impulsive and it was definitely foolish, but he wouldn’t be able to leave with a clear conscience unless he did everything in his power to bring every student back safely. He understood that the professors needed to do their duty, but Obi-Wan was to be an auror someday. Running into the line of fire was surely a requirement of such a field.

All he could think of was how he knew what it was like to be forgotten. If there was even a small chance of preventing someone else from befalling that fate, he had to try.

Running across the slick stone walkway proved itself to be even more difficult than walking had, but Obi-Wan was utilizing the forward motion that the ice provided him for acceleration. The sky above him was almost completely black- as though Hogsmeade was at risk for being sucked into outer space. Suddenly, the cold that Obi-Wan felt no longer seemed to be as a result from the climate.

He’d studied dementors a good deal over the years and objectively understood how they drained a person from their hopes and dreams, removing the parts of them that basically made them human, but he realized then that he never really knew. He wasn’t even the target for these dementors and just being in their presence made him feel like all color was depleting from the landscape.

He forced himself through it, focusing on the task at hand and what purpose that gave him. He decided to slide by the (now closed) butterbeer stand at the end, where he’d last seen Rabé. After all, it was entirely possible that he was the last person to see her alive. That certainly didn’t give him much comfort.

He turned his head from side to side, trying with a last stitch effort to see if she’d taken refuge in one of the closed shops. The keepers were kind and would more than likely house a lost student during a crisis such as this.

As dread pooled deeper in the pit of his stomach and his body struggled to fight off the shaky chill that climbed its way up his spine, he dared to look up, noticing that the dementors were no longer searching, but swarming. The snowfall only seemed to thicken, which was rather unfortunate as Obi-Wan had to swipe his arm over his eyes several times to continue seeing.

They congregated at the Three Broomsticks- in front of which, Obi-Wan did not stop, but in his haste, did meet the bloodshot amber eyes of none other than the Dathomirian known as Maul. In their midst, Obi-Wan found he would rather embark on a lengthy stay with a dementor than look another second into the killer’s eyes. He was leaning back in his seat with casual aplomb and raised his stein of butterbeer as though in cheers or celebration, selling the chilling lack of regard for life with a cruel smile curling his black and red lips.

It was if he was saying, “I’ve won.”

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly and averted his gaze immediately, understanding that this might be his final moment. If that were so, he would use it wisely.

“No, you won’t.”

Maul’s smile broadened, resembling the actual devil as he did so.

Yes, Obi-Wan was definitely about to die.

However, the moment ended as quick as it started, for once the dementors dive bombed past Obi-Wan and straight for Maul, he flipped a galleon into the air and caught it, allowing himself to disappear to whatever rock he dragged himself from before.

Obi-Wan only thundered forward until he arrived at the end of the limits of the town, sighing deeply and wincing at the wreath of frost that circled his head as he caught his breath. He was immensely cold and with nothing to do about it and worse, began to feel quite defeated. Part of him wanted to rationalize that Rabé did likely go back to the castle. However, whether it was intuition or simply an unknown magic in the air, he could practically feel the presence of another.

Then, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed something poking out of the snow- just next to an old townhome, and drew closer. His steps were heavy and without hopeful anticipation as he regarded the gray fingers breaking through the massive snowdrift.

He knelt down slowly, and raised his wand to blow away the piles of snow and ice and used his hands to remove the last remnants on his own. Attached to the outstretched hand, which served as much as a warning as it did a signal of distress, was the petrified gray face of Rabé.

***

“You have to go back for him!” Satine demanded as she was practically carried by Fisto all the way back to Hogwarts. It had been the only way they were able to prevent her from slipping after Obi-Wan in a panic-induced gut-reaction. She believed he was an idiot for running off the way he did, but that wasn’t to say she didn’t understand the feeling.

“The dementors are mobilizing, Satine!” Windu turned on her with fire in his eyes, “Had Mr. Kenobi not been so uncharacteristically impetuous, we wouldn’t be here.”

“And there would still be a lost child out there!” She growled, not usually one to ever speak to a professor so brazenly, but this was Obi-Wan they were talking about, and she would always be a bit irrational when it came to him. “It doesn’t seem like anyone really cares about that though!”

“Not care? I would lay down my life for every single one of you. Do you think it pleases me to know that not one, but two students could be suffering at the hands of that animal on my watch?” Windu said hotly, “But I cannot jeopardize the dementors potentially catching a murderous sociopath. Obi-Wan would not want me to do that!”

She knew deep in her bones that he was right, but she didn’t take to it any better, instead feeling bile rise up her throat- only subdued by the way it seemed to constrict at the wretched thought of losing her best friend. The cold weight of pure dread settled on her chest, evaporating her fury and nearly suffocating all logical thought.

Nearly.

She turned on her heels back to Ravenclaw house, who were staring at her with a mixture of sympathy and shock. Satine knew she had the capacity to lose her patience, but she tried to always do so with some semblance of professionalism.

“We’ll go find him ourselves then!” Cody, equally as heated as she had been, raged alongside Echo and Fives. All were still dressed for the winter and had their wands at the ready.

“You will do no such thing.” Professor Fisto pulled Cody back by the arm, “Headmaster Yoda is the only one who can save your friend now.”

“What was the point of teaching us all that stuff if we aren’t going to use it?” Cody fired.

“In the event that there is an inescapable situation, Cody.” Fisto said, “I commend your bravery, but there is a line between courage and stupidity.”

“So, that’s it?” Echo chimed in, “We’re just going to run and hide every time a bad guy comes knocking on our door?”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to teach us defense against the dark arts!” Fives added, “I’d say Maul qualifies.”

“Maul is much more than any of you can understand or handle.” Windu’s voice no longer spoke with anger, but from a deep place that teetered on remorse and pity. There was a defeated look in his eyes that Satine would never forget, as though Maul had already won.

“Glad you’ve all been effectively wasting our time then.” Cody snarled, “Propping us up and making us feel as though we’re really doing something all year. What has all of this been? Some show for the Ministry?”

A few other Gryffindors pooled around him and it occurred to Satine just then that if Cody hadn’t been so set on pursuing Quidditch as a career, that he’d make a mighty fine commanding officer. People rallied behind him. They believed in him.

She just wished that call to order wasn’t coming from a place of wishing to fight a dark lord.

“Cody, I highly recommend that you stand down.” Fisto said, “I get that you’re upset, but we need to remain calm. Take your brothers back to the Great Hall and wait for further instructions.”

Cody was teeming with anger- she could tell just looking at him and for a moment, she feared he was going to act brashly. Windu seemed to think the same thing judging by the appraising look he gave him.

He didn’t move, but he did send Echo and Fives back with the Gryffindor prefects and the rest of the house. The other houses and their respective prefects trickled afterwards, each going to the Great Hall for what was surely to be another lockdown.

“Great, another sleepover.” Fives huffed as he went.

“Yeah, telling ghost stories by candlelight altogether will surely keep us safe.” Echo complained under his breath.

“I thought I said-” Fisto began.

“-I’m not leaving until Kenobi is found.” Cody said, “Dead or alive.”

“Don’t you dare talk like that.” She seethed, grabbing his attention instantly and Cody, to his credit, did appear riddled with guilt at her reaction.

“Sorry.” He muttered.

“I expect this level of irrationality from Cody.” Windu said and eyed Satine, “But not you.”

“I’m not leaving either.” She said, clutching Obi-Wan’s robe tightly between clenched fists, “Consequences be damned.”

Where she thought there would be retribution or even more yelling, there was not. Fisto, of the two of them, actually appeared more upset. Windu, instead, nodded slightly. It seemed he understood that this was a battle he would not be winning today.

Satine scanned the area, remembering someone very curious to be missing from the pack. As if it were possible, more horror gnawed at her nerves, “Where’s Anakin?”

That was Maul’s whole purpose for scouting out the school, right?

Windu grimaced, “He did try to sneak out to Hogsmeade earlier.”

Her eyes widened, “But he’s alright?”

“It is to my understanding that young Skywalker is with Professor Jinn.” Palpatine swerved around the corner, dark cloaks flowing behind him dramatically as he reconvened with the professors, “Any update on Maul?”

“No,” Windu said tartly, “But seeing as our students have been debating on staging a coup, it might have been useful to have your presence, Professor.”

The tension, as it was, seemed unbreakable.

“My apologies, Professor Windu, but I will say these students have the right to be upset. All of our efforts to protect the school have thus far failed.” Palpatine said.

Satine also couldn’t blame everyone for being upset. In their effort to make everyone feel safe, they only propped them up with delusions of grandeur. There was a fine line to walk between keeping the student body informed and propagating debilitating fear- at least in this predicament.

“You’re here now.” Fisto said, “That’s what counts.”

Satine wasn’t so sure, but then again, Maul hadn’t broken in yet.

“Surely, it’s not wise to have students so close to the entrance.” Palpatine said.

“Yes, well, it also wasn’t wise to allow Anakin so close to your Vitamix potion.” Windu countered, “I guess we’re all doing things a bit differently right now.”

Palpatine seemed properly slapped by that, because there was little argument that could be brought up to counter the comment. That was, indeed, what happened and it left the school wide open for possible attack.

“Yoda should be back any minute.” Fisto paced the floor, his wet boots making a squeaking noise as he did so, “And hopefully, he has good news.”

“If not?” Cody asked.

“If not, we might have to help him and if that’s the case, you two will stay back.” Windu ordered.

Even Cody didn’t argue with that logic.

Not but a moment later, erratic banging came from the metal door, growing more desperate as the seconds went on. Palpatine leaned forward as if to open it and Fisto grabbed his wrist before he could perform the charm.

“There’s a password.” Fisto said.

“And why would Maul just come knocking on the front door?” Palpatine scoffed.

“Maul is anything but conventional.” Windu reasoned.

Cody and Satine looked between each other as the three professors deliberated. They were beginning to understand why it sometimes felt like it took forever for anything to get done. No one could agree on the simplest things.

“What if it’s Ben?” Satine stepped forward, “You’ve said it yourself that the tunnels are blocked off now.”

“Yoda would have found him and brought him back by apparition.” Fisto said.

“And if he didn’t?”

Windu opened his mouth to respond, but then from a familiar voice, “HELLO THERE? IS ANYONE THERE?”

She glared between the three professors, who were all a bit dumbstruck as they hastily moved to open the door. As it swung open unceremoniously, her heart resumed beating as Obi-Wan Kenobi, pale, drenched and speckled with snowflakes, practically fell through the entryway.

She moved on instinct rather than thought and caught him in a tight hug, combatting the sharp chill that traveled up her spine at his frigid body with the warm relief that he was alive. She only removed herself enough to tightly wrap his robe around his shoulders before pulling him closer.

“Get him some blankets!” Windu ordered while Palpatine was simultaneously brewing a warm beverage from thin air. Satine, for her part, could not let go.

“N-nice t-to see you t-too.” He shivered and did not reject the warm contact.

“You’re an idiot, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” She muttered into his shoulder, but it really didn’t have as much fire as she would have liked it to- not when he looked so pitiful with wet hair in his face, teeth chattering, and a nose and cheeks red from the cold.

“I’m aware.” He said.

“You could have been killed!”

“I know.”

“And you really couldn’t have at least brought your robe with you if you were going to go running off on a deadly mission?”

“You’re right.”

“Stop agreeing with me!” She leaned back and glared at him.

“My apologies,” He smiled ruefully, but it faded almost instantly, “All the trouble I’ve caused, I’m afraid it was for nothing.”

“What do you mean?” Fisto cut in.

“I saw him.” Obi-Wan’s voice was hollow when he said it. His eyes became downcast as he reminisced, “And Rabé. I couldn’t move her on my own… She was frozen in carbonite.”

Windu cursed, scrubbing a hand over his bald head, “And Maul?”

“Gone.” Obi-Wan said, “He used a portkey before the dementors could get to him.”

***

The dementors separated like parting clouds, allowing for remnants of dwindling sunlight to cast a yellow beam onto Hogsmeade. Even with the sunset behind it, the usually buzzing and quaint town looked barren without the lively folk that inhabited it. It was to their best interest to hide, of course, and he knew that once this awful storm passed, they would return again. Yoda moved slowly through the snow, feet unbothered by the crunch of the ice beneath him.

He had no doubt that Maul was here, but held equal assurance that he no longer was. His protective charms were supposed to stop people from getting in, not out.

He grimaced as he knelt to the Slytherin girl’s motionless body- frozen in time with a horrific expression painting her features. She would need to join the growing group that took up beds in Madame Nema’s hospital wing. He just hoped with everything in him that they could make this right.

It tugged at his heart that children always seemed to be the ones to suffer for the choices of adults. This one was not excluded as Yoda and the other professors deemed that it would be safe.

It should have been safe.

He cursed as he thought back to the extensive lengths he’d gone to in protecting the school. He was exhausted, constantly firing off on all cylinders to keep this place safe. Even Hogsmeade hadn’t been exempt from his reach.

Well it had, but it seemed the small window of Maul’s murder in Diagon Alley to Yoda waking up from the botched Vitamix potion was the hole he’d crawled through. The dementors hadn’t detected him, which was a whole other concern that he would need to investigate at a later time.

There were so many ways that they failed.

Yes, well, this girl’s parents will not enjoy a meager response like that, so he ought to think of something better. Either way, he would not be sleeping well for his hubris. Maul might not storm the castle with his being there, but he was not above dancing around it. He was boxed out for now, but there was only so much that could be done. He had managed to convince them to disallow apparition for the time being without Ministry approval. This combined with the monitorization of the Floo network, limited Maul significantly.

However, there were always portkeys, which was the most secure way for a person in hiding to quickly transport. You didn’t need a license for it and you didn’t even leave a trace on your wand in the process.

It seemed Maul was getting significant joy from toying with them by instilling fear. It was just like a dark wizard to play on people’s emotions as such.

And yet…

He looked back down at the girl with a different sort of befuddlement. Not that he was complaining, but why hadn’t he killed her? Was it because it would have drawn too much attention for his liking? That didn’t seem right, though, because he had no problem murdering the guards at Azkaban or that store owner on Diagon Alley. Why utilize this mysterious alternative method now?

It hadn’t been the first time, obviously. There was the first official occurrence in December, not to mention the carbon remnants found in Shmi Skywalker’s flat, and Obi-Wan and Satine’s discovery at the Shrieking Shack.

Maul had certainly developed a predilection for the long con in his time locked away in Azkaban. Yoda would say it was out of character if he didn’t understand how much a man could change from trauma. He’d seen it in his own face and he’d seen it in many other’s. Maul didn’t want to mess up this time. He wanted his target and he wanted it done right.

But why Anakin Skywalker? Surely, Maul didn’t buy into the Chosen One prophecy. And if he did, why the sudden malevolence towards the boy? Nothing from the ancient texts seemed to make any reference to Maul in the slightest. It wouldn’t have affected him in Azkaban.

Would it?

As Yoda waved his wand once to lift the casket of carbon from the ground to float aimlessly behind him, he turned back towards the castle, realizing not for the first time that the more he learned, the more he had to ask.

***

“We were worried you became a popsicle out there,” Cody said as he took off his own robe and coat to also wrap around Obi-Wan. They all sat in the Great Hall with the rest of the student body, each positioned on their own sleeping bag as they faced each other. Despite having been inside for over an hour, Obi-Wan still clutched the blankets that were given to him tightly and didn’t reject Cody’s addition to the pile.

“I’m sure he was more concerned about seeing Maul.” Satine said.

“I’m sure he was.” Ventress sauntered by with her trademark smirk painted on her black-stained lips.

“Come off it, Ventress,” Cody scowled, “Kenobi wouldn’t lie about such a thing. Dementors were there too.”

“They’ve been here the entire time, Fett.” Ventress said, “How many false scares have there been? I’m beginning to believe it’s all conspiracy, myself.”

“It’s that level of thinking that’s going to get someone seriously injured.” Satine said, “Or worse.”

“Maybe then someone will start to take legitimate action,” She sighed almost dreamily, like she was fantasizing about the possibility.

“And I suppose Rabé basically turning to stone was just nothing.” Cody barked.

“A pity, truly.” She inspected her fingernails, which were actually quite noticeably jagged and cracked with chipped black polish, “Have we not noticed that every victim has been pureblood? You don’t hear the Ministry talking about that, of course.”

“What are you getting at?” Satine growled.

“I’m just saying, Duchess,” Ventress displayed her best pout, which coming from her, still had all the appearances of a cat ready to pounce, “I would hate to see a group marginalized by their blood type.”

“Listen here, Ventress-” She clutched his sleeping bag tightly and was surely ready to fire off on a meaningful tangent of her own, but was interrupted by the sound of barreling footsteps coming their way.

Anakin and Rex came sprinting down the aisle and slid onto their knees towards where they sat. Anakin, for his part, skidded right into Obi-Wan and nearly knocked him over by the velocity at which he traveled.

“Where have you two been?” Cody asked.

“We were with Qui-Gon!” Anakin said and looked around to Obi-Wan, “Fives just told us about what happened at Hogsmeade and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Obi-Wan’s heart melted at the thought of Anakin’s concern and ruffled his hair, “Not a scratch on me.”

Anakin nodded in relief, “That’s good. It’s crazy that we both saw Maul today and he didn’t even do anything to either of us!”

Obi-Wan, Satine, Cody, and the briefly forgotten Ventress all snapped their attention towards Anakin in surprise.

“I’m sorry, what?” Satine was the first to speak.

“When and where did you see Maul?” Cody followed shortly behind.

“And you lived?” It was unclear whether Ventress was surprised or disappointed.

Obi-Wan, in all fairness, was still processing the small twelve year old boy, who presumably alone, faced the bloodthirsty killer that had it out for him. He knew he must have looked horrified, because Anakin’s own worry seemed to grow by just looking at Obi-Wan.

“I’m okay!” He said first, knowing that this was the most important thing, “And for the record, it wasn’t my fault.”

“It was a little your fault.” Rex winced.

“Rex! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Anakin whined.

“What did you do?” Obi-Wan pinched his brow.

“I already told Qui-Gon and he promised me immunity and while I don’t know for sure what that means, I’m pretty sure it means you’re not allowed to get mad.”

“That’s not what it means.” He said.

“Well, then, who’s got a decent ghost story to share?” He tried, looking around to each of them, “Ventress? I’m sure you’ve got some just by looking in a mirror every day.”

“Anakin…”

“Fine…” He sighed, “I… Might have sort of tried to go give Padmé her Valentine.”

“Of all the foolish and impulsive things to do!” Obi-Wan roared instantly.

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“No I did not!” He snapped, “Do you not realize how incredibly dangerous that was? And the kind of risk you were putting yourself at? What would have happened if he had gotten you? I swear, I know you’re young but you need to think in terms of the long-”

“-Mate, not sure you are in the best position to be giving that lecture today.” Cody said, “Seeing as you also ran right into Maul’s clutches.”

“Yeah, really!” Anakin defended, “I heard all about what you did!”

“To save someone!” Obi-Wan rounded on his friend, “Not to retrieve a pretty trinket for a girl I fancy!”

“Based on your taste that’s a good thing.” Ventress scoffed.

Satine, who was admittedly calmer than Obi-Wan, frowned and looked at Anakin, “What happened?”

“If I’m allowed to continue.” He said pointedly before going on, “I wasn’t actually going to go to Hogsmeade. Believe it or not, I’m not completely stupid.”

“You just said-” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked.

“-Ben, let him finish.” Satine admonished.

“Thank you,” Anakin nodded and the kid really had the nerve to look smug, “I wasn’t going to Hogsmeade, but Rabé was and believe it or not, I get nervous too sometimes. I wasn’t sure I would have the nerve to give it to her in person, so I was going to ask Rabé if she could give it to Padmé for me. So, I used the map to follow her, obviously, and was never going to leave the tunnel system. But then about halfway through, I saw him.”

“Maul?” Cody asked in awe.

“No, the boogeyman. Yes, Maul.” Rex rolled his eyes.

“Seems like the same thing to me,” Ventress yawned, clearly unimpressed, “Seeing as Maul can’t be in two places at once, I would say one of you is lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Anakin asserted and looked to Obi-Wan, “And he’s not either.”

“Rabé didn’t just turn to carbonite on her own.” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin’s eyes widened, “He got Rabé too?”

“What do you mean too?” Satine asked.

“I mean, Tiplee was also frozen in carbonite down in the tunnels. I only managed to get away because I must have caught him off guard. I ran as fast as I could.” He patted his pockets, “Dang! I think I dropped the map in the process. Again.”

“Seriously, no more of those for you.” Satine said.

“Not like it’ll be of much use now that Yoda is closing the tunnels again.” Cody said.

“That’s horrible.” Obi-Wan frowned and stroked his chin thoughtfully, “But I wonder why he wouldn’t have come into the school.”

“He’s afraid of Yoda.” Ventress scowled, “Everyone knows that, but clearly, he’s a fool to be leaving all of these little clues around.”

“There’s got to be a bigger plan at play here.” Satine said.

“Like what? Two Maul’s?” Ventress rolled her eyes, “I could see the creep going after Skywalker as that is clearly his primary intent, but Kenobi? Who would bother to go after someone who cowered at his own shadow at one point?”

The particular incident that Ventress was alluding to happened when they were only five years old, he might add, but even in his head it didn’t pack the same impact that she wanted it to. Instead, Obi-Wan flashed her a disapproving look.

“Rabé is a member of your house.” He pointed out, “I didn’t see you running back to save her.”

“Actually, I didn’t see you at all.” Satine added.

Ventress, nonplussed, rolled her eyes dramatically, “Good to know the two of you are still conjuring nonsense that would rival The Quibbler, but if you must know, I was tutoring in the library.”

“Wait a second,” Obi-Wan allowed some of the blanket to slide off of him when he sat up straighter, trying his best to suppress a shiver that immediately followed. He was grateful that Satine set it back into place, “Don’t tell me you’re Hondo’s tutor.”

Ventress furrowed her brow, “Be wary of the tone, Kenobi. My marks often rival your own.”

She wasn’t wrong. Horrible personality aside, Ventress was an exemplary student. Like him, she sort of had to be, given the reputation their respective families upheld.

“I wasn’t underestimating your intelligence,” He said, because he wasn’t a total fool, “But I never took you for a good samaritan.”

“Surely, he’s paying her.” Satine groaned as she leaned back on her hands.

“I don’t need the money, muggle-born.” She hissed.

“Since when has galleons been his only form of currency?” Satine shrugged, “Everyone has a price, is all I’m saying.”

“Fools,” Ventress shook her head as she walked away, “All of you.”

“Yeah, well, when you turn to stone, it’ll match your heart.” Anakin said and stood up, “I’m going to go apologize to Padmé.”

Obi-Wan watched him sadly as he walked over to where the crestfallen group of usually chipper girls huddled together. At least they were able to comfort each other in this trying time. Obi-Wan looked to Cody and Satine, who were both wearing a considerable amount of concern on their features.

He knew their responsibilities as older students and prefects, alike, were only going to rise as the fear and sense of danger increased. Anakin had nearly come to his end if he hadn’t been so quick on his feet. He supposed those dueling classes did have their uses if implemented properly. As it were, Maul would likely not make the same mistake twice.

***

The atmosphere was much more subdued than most Quidditch mornings. Even Cody found himself sitting quietly across from where Obi-Wan was falling asleep over a plate of pancakes. Ventress was the only one not subdued, she was glaring around at her team, snarling at anyone not paying attention to her. He didn’t think she’d get very far with an attitude like that. As captain, sometimes the best thing you could do was read the mood of your teammates.

Obi-Wan’s head dropped forwards almost landing in the syrup before Satine managed to pull him back without even a glance over. He blinked, looking around like he hadn’t even been aware they were in the Great Hall in the first place.

“Might want to eat something, mate,” Cody suggested, gesturing to his plate that he seemed surprised was loaded even if he had done it himself.

“Right,” He did so without another word. Satine looked fairly volatile this morning, having woken up extremely early for a morning patrol so there wasn’t much conversation for them to be had. He was tired too, having been picking up a few patrols of his own. Palpatine’s accidental sleeping potion may have been an unfortunate idea, but a few extra hands that could take on prefect duties were still welcomed. It’s not like Cody could say no after watching his friends be run ragged.

“You sure you’re going to be awake enough to stay on a broom?” Cody asked as they both watched a piece of pancake fall slowly off his fork. Obi-Wan just nodded looking up with a sigh.

“We’re all tired,” He nodded towards where Koth had passed out at the breakfast table. Aayla and Cin were awake enough to doodle on his face so it maybe wasn’t the entire team, “Hopefully this will make for a short game.”

“Hopefully,” He nodded, but he wasn’t sure he was honest in his statement. Ventress was looking especially poisonous this morning and wouldn’t take anything sitting down, “Maybe we shouldn’t be playing anyways.”

Obi-Wan and Satine both looked at him like he’d just grown a second head and he met their looks with a glare.

“Who are you and what have you done with Cody?” Kenobi squinted at him as if checking to make sure he hadn’t been cursed.

“I think hell must have frozen over,” Satine added with a nod, “I never thought I’d hear Cody Fett, not want anything to do with Quidditch.”

“Hey! Woah!” He shook his head quickly, “I never said that.”

They both raised an eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Even I am not enough of a sports fan to look past the elephant in the room,” He jabbed his fork at them, “Maul’s close and we’re just going to take the whole school outside? Again? Plus, morale is down,” Instead of gesturing to the two obvious examples in front of him, he pointed to Koth, who had just woken up and hadn’t figured out why everyone was laughing at him yet.

“When you put it that way...” Obi-Wan flicked his eyes to the professors, who were desperately trying to keep warm inviting facades. He took a sip of pumpkin juice.

“Why go through all this trouble for such a barbaric game anyways,” Satine glowered, “We need a break from potential violence not more.”

Cody knew explaining the dynamics of Quidditch would not change her mind any so he kept his own thoughts to himself on the matter. He thought of Quidditch as a much needed break most of the time. But it was hard to deny the fact that only a few people would be having a good time today and that wasn’t how he felt a healthy Quidditch environment should be.

The screech of an owl alerted everyone to the arrival of the morning mail. It was always a little hectic, but it didn’t stop them from being able to spot one of their three owls if it chose to show up. The only owl Cody could recognize was a large tawny one. Well manicured and, if memory served, sharp talons. Obi-Wan barely avoided getting his letter dropped on his head, his hand flicked up to catch the falling parchment with deft precision. As most letters from his parents, he was careful to shield it so Satine couldn’t see, something that always had her frustrated despite knowing that it was fair given the nature of these letters.

Obi-Wan read the whole thing in lightning speed, eyebrows furrowing the further he got, although he nodded before swiftly depositing it on the table next to his plate. His owl swooped down again landing on his head causing him to wince.

“Alright message received,” He tried to pick up the pesky owl, but it looked rather indignant to be manhandled. Still because he was gentle and fed him a bit of breakfast, the owl allowed itself to be set on his arm, “Tell them they’re early,” He tried saying it quietly enough so neither of them would hear, unfortunately they were both rather intune to his voice. If an owl could show emotions, which Cody had, up until this moment thought untrue, Obi-Wan’s owl would look almost melancholic for a moment. A hard thing to do for a bird that had permanent angry eyebrows colored into its feathers.

It took off in a hurry, nearly taking off a few heads as it went and disappeared back into the flock it had arrived with.

“What did they say?” Satine asked, as she usually did, but he just shrugged.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” He gave her a smile, but she frowned.

“That never makes me feel better,” She told him sternly. He just shrugged.

There was a loud pop and they all looked up to see Palpatine and Qui-Gon standing at the head of the Great Hall, the two of them would be escorting both teams outside and to the pitch. It was best to have an experienced teacher at the helm and who better than those who had earned their titles as Heads of House.

Obi-Wan stood swiftly, accepting their well wishes and good lucks, before falling into line behind Eeth. Satine was watching them leave with narrowed eyes and Cody wasn’t sure what was going on, but she certainly looked much more focused than earlier. She slid her hand across the table, snatching the note from where he’d left it, clearly for the trash pile, and spread it open.

“Should you do that?” He asked even if he was curious himself, he wasn’t about to get accused of reading other people’s mail.

“It’s a suspicious piece of parchment I found unattended,” She lied as she peered down at it. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as she read it just loud enough for him to hear.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,

As you are about to turn 17, we remind you once again of your duties and expectations. In one year you will turn 18 and we’ll discuss then your future. Despite your best attempts to undermine our plans we will do what we can to work around your failure.

Don’t expect a gift this year, you received one last year and we’ll be happy to give you one when you turn 20. Consider continuing to go to school despite your constant disappointments gift enough.

-Mother”

Cody felt the grip on his fork tighten as he stared a hole through the paper. A correspondence with Obi-Wan’s family really was never pleasant, but did they have to be so outwardly despicable? What surprised him most was the excitement lighting up Satine’s eyes as she read the letter over again.

“Brilliant!” She grinned and he practically snapped his fork in half.

“What’s so brilliant about those two bastards continuing to tighten the noose around his neck?” Cody growled and Satine looked up, having the decency to look aghast.

“Oh heavens no,” She looked sick at the thought, “That’s not what I was referring to at all. How could you think-?”

“-How could I not? Maybe hell is freezing over,” He ran a hand down his face as she rummaged around in her bag before shoving plates and goblets out of the way, nearly toppling a few over. She set down a massive book-like object with a white exterior and silver rings. It was full to the brim with pages and she opened it up excitedly.

“It’s a binder,” She told him at his look before moving on to what must have been the important thing at hand, “You know how Ben’s rather dodgy about his birthday?” Cody nodded, “Well I’ve been tracking him ever since 2nd year,” She flipped around in the binder and Cody could see so many color-coded graphs it made his head spin.

“You did this? For what?”

“If he won’t tell us, I’ll find out on my own,” She glared sternly at a picture of Ben that blinked up at her from the page, “That’s what I told him,” She flipped through it, pointing at various sections, “I was able to surmise that his parents tend to have a letter pattern. They only send him mail on major holidays or if he’s done something they disapprove of.”

“When is that not the case,” He muttered.

“I was able to narrow it down after a few years to February or March,” She was in the back of the book now where a calendar full of crossed out dates sat, “It was confusing, sometimes they sent him a letter end of February like this one,” She waved the letter at him, “Sometimes it was in March. This is the first time I’ve been able to read one,” She grinned proudly tucking the letter into the back pocket for evidence purposes.

“What good does that do? They didn’t say what day it was,” Cody studied the calendar in interest.

“It does a lot of good!” She pulled a fancy highlighter from her bag, “He said they were early, meaning it can’t be any of these dates,” She ran her finger through most of the month. They only had a few days left until March though, maybe she’d figured out the month, “Most importantly!” She looked at him face as serious as it was when she was taking her OWLs, “They said they got him a gift last year-”

“Yeah a ruddy gift,” Cody frowned, “What good is an antique quill if it doesn’t even work?”

“I agree,” She said impatiently, “That’s not the point. They said they’d get him another one when he turned 20. He turned 16 last year-”

“Your point?” Cody was beginning to get lost and would rather she hurry up her point than leave him thinking.

“He doesn’t have a birthday this year at all!” She announced and Cody straightened, staring at her in shock.

“Well that’s not possible!” He declared, “Everyone has a birthday once a year! Even those who don’t care much like Kenobi.”

“It is possible!” She grinned proudly drawing a line on her calendar right between the 28th of February and the 1st of March, “He was born on February 29th! A leap year!”

Cody blinked. That actually made a lot of sense. Kenobi wasn’t a liar and he was sure he’d asked about specific days and been told he was wrong. He’d only seen Kenobi get a birthday present their first year (a pack of gobstones) and their fifth year (the aforementioned broken antique quill). Cody had just figured they wouldn’t ever figure it out unless he told them himself, so he usually just tried to get him a good Christmas present every year. He had noticed Satine had started to give him a present around this time of year, but now they had the exact day.

“Does this mean his parents use that as an excuse to never get him anything?” He frowned and Satine angered instantly.

“I’m almost shocked they haven’t forgotten the date themselves.”

“So,” Cody looked at the little highlighted line indicating the fruition of 5 years of work, “What are we doing about it?”

***

“I still say we should have gone with March 1st,” Cody said from where he was balanced rather precariously on a ladder taping the end of a streamer, “Then we’d be celebrating him having turned 17.”

Satine, who was holding onto the ladder to make sure she didn’t have to take anyone to the hospital wing today, glared up at him, “Absolutely not! He has a February birthday, we’re celebrating it in February. Otherwise he’s going to assume we’ve forgotten it!”

“He doesn’t even know we know it,” Cody rationalized, but came down from the ladder anyways to admire his work with her.

“Alright,” She looked down reading her list. She’d had years to plan this event, he’d never had a party before that she knew of and she wanted it to be perfect, “We’ve got the streamers and the balloons. The guests have been told what time to arrive...” She checked off the boxes as she went, “Can I trust you to go and get the cake without dropping it?” She looked up at her friend and he grinned giving her a thumbs up.

“Oh yeah definitely,” It didn’t instill in her a lot of hope, but he was at least eager to do it.

“Alright go, but hurry!” She checked the time off the clock in the corner. “They’ll be here soon.”

“On it!” He saluted her and raced out the door.

Satine observed her surroundings once more. They’d chosen an empty classroom rather than something elaborate like the Great Hall or too intimate like Qui-Gon’s office. She’d gotten approval, Qui-Gon was to arrive any minute now to supervise. He’d been the only professor she could think of that would understand how important this was to do. She was sure if she’d talked to Windu or even Headmaster Yoda, she’d have gotten shot down before she even began. Qui-Gon knew about Ben’s family though and like her, seemed to want to give him the best experience he could.

There was a spot for the cake on the teacher’s desk as well as plates, utensils, and napkins. The ceiling was practically drowning in streamers of all different colors and balloons were floating around aimlessly. Her and Cody’s presents to him were sitting in a neat pile on a couple of tables pushed together. She hoped he’d get a few more, but hadn’t explicitly said anything on the invitations. It was rather short notice after all.

“You’ve done a wonderful job,” She turned to see Qui-Gon in the doorway. He was holding a colorfully wrapped package which she gratefully took from him placing it on the table next to the other.

“Do you think it’s too much?” The last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm him, but she’d learned over the years it was hard to figure out what would.

“I’m sure we could all do with a little cheeriness,” He said in lieu of answering. Maybe he didn’t know any better than she did.

It didn’t take much more time before the students she’d invited began to arrive. The entirety of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team poured in along with Stass. They’d been a little downtrodden at being beat so terribly by Slytherin, but seemed happy enough to be there. The clones were the next to arrive with Anakin in tow. Anakin proudly added his gift to the stack before going back over to Rex.

Cody arrived again, loudly kicking in the door gingerly holding the cake. It hadn’t gotten squashed which she was thankful for. Behind him was Breha and Bail, both levitating trays of food and a bowl of punch, letting them settle into place on a row of desks.

More prefects appeared as well as a few other students. Hondo had seemed rather pleased to have been invited, but Satine was a little worried about what he had possibly brought as a present. Soon the room was pretty full and Satine shushed everyone as well as she could without shouting.

“Alright I’m going to get Ben,” She announced, “Be ready.”

“Yes ma’am!” The Fett’s all saluted her and the others in the room nodded keeping their chatter to a minimum.

***

Obi-Wan was growing a little concerned. Satine had been the one to ask him to meet her in the library, but she had yet to appear. He’d kept himself occupied with his textbooks, but he was tempted to go out and look for her. It was no sooner than he closed his textbook and stood that she rounded the corner looking rather flustered.

“Sorry I’m late,” She panted as she flipped her hair back and out of her face. It was down today, which was becoming a bit of a rarity and he smiled.

“It’s no trouble,” He said sitting back down, “Was there something in particular you wanted to work on? I’ve already finished my essays, but I can help you with yours.”

“Actually,” She was fidgeting nervously and he gazed up at her in concern, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if we went on a walk first.”

“A walk?” That was an unusual request.

“Yes I- I just think it would be nice, don’t you?” Well, he was hard pressed to deny her anything. Especially something as simple as a walk around the castle.

“Alright,” He agreed, sliding his text book back into his bag. She was scrutinizing him and he looked down to make sure his clothes were straightened, because the last time he’d gotten that look his fly had been undone. Rather embarrassing.

He looked up again, starting in surprise, when he felt a hand in his hair. She gave him an apologetic look as she stepped back.

“Sorry, your hair was messed up,” She told him and he felt his face warm slightly, but she just coughed awkwardly and started walking. He ran to catch up.

He couldn’t help, but to run his own hands through his hair, just to ensure that it wasn’t still a mess, “It’s fine Ben,” She told him as she walked just far enough ahead to force him to follow her path.

“I didn’t think you minded much if it was messy,” He said instead of removing his hands.

“I don’t, I just-” Satine cut herself off with a shake of her head. Obi-Wan was confused, but let his hands finally drop to his sides.

“Well alright?” He wasn’t sure what else to say. She was acting off and he couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe she was upset? But she didn’t look it. Even if she was, the library was perfectly quiet that evening. His heart beat a little faster in his chest as he remembered another time the two of them had been alone, the Christmas party. Did she- were they going to talk about it? He wasn’t sure he knew what to say about such things.

“Ben?” He looked up at his name and she was frowning at him, “Are you alright? You look pale.”

“I’m completely fine,” He confirmed, “Are you?”

“Yes?” Maybe they were both acting a little off this evening.

“Good,” He smiled at her and she returned it easily.

She turned then and walked towards the door of an empty classroom, disappearing inside. What on earth could she want with him in an empty classroom?

He refused to lose her though and quickened his pace until he was pulling the door open only to be assaulted by many loud cheers. It took him a moment to register what they were saying in the first place.

“Happy Birthday!”

His birthday? He blinked, taking in the scene. Many of his close friends were there, his Quidditch team, Anakin, Qui-Gon. All of them were standing there watching him which made him more than a little nervous. The ceiling was decorated in nearly every color of the rainbow and it was complete with balloons. He gripped the strap of his bag, unsure what was expected of him. He certainly had never had a party for himself before.

“Happy Birthday, mate!” Cody appeared in front of him practically dragging him into the room and pushing him towards the professor’s desk. It broke the tension in the room and chatter resumed much to his relief. There were less eyes on him.

“Uhm, thank you,” He managed a smile.

“Look at your cake! We had it made special.”

He looked down in surprise at a white cake decorated with 17 silver candles. Written in delicate blue icing was, “Happy Birthday Obi-Wan!” He’d never had his own birthday cake before, but he’d seen them when Satine or Cody had celebrated theirs. It was kind of them to think of him, he just wished he knew the proper way to respond. The parties he attended usually had scripts to follow and he had never been instructed for one like this.

“It’s chocolate,” Satine’s hand landed right next to his on the desk and he looked up catching her eyes, “I know it’s your favorite.”

“It is,” he agreed almost solemnly.

“Do you like it?” She asked and he nodded quickly, his face heating up, how rude that he hadn’t immediately offered them a thank you.

“Yes of course! I- Thank you,” He told them both seriously, “I’m sorry, I’m just not at all sure how I’m supposed to react.” Satine’s eyes flashed sadly at him for a moment before it was gone and she smiled at him softly, bumping her fingers into his.

“You can react however you’d like,” She assured him, “Yell at me that you hate it for all I care,” He took a step back and nearly tripped over Cody at the insinuation.

“Absolutely not, I’ll treasure it!” He vowed with a stern expression and she laughed a little, it was a sound he quite liked.

“Don’t treasure it too long,” Cody warned him, “Because after we sing to you we’re all going to eat it.”

“Sing?”

Neither of them answered, but he found himself pushed into the professor’s chair and everyone seemed to gather all around him. He felt his face get warm and he hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. Both Cody and Satine were lighting the candles on the cake and right when they were done a rather off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” was sung and shouted at him. There wasn’t much for him to do except sit there and try to look less uncomfortable. When Fives and Echo finally finished drawing out the last “you” Satine told him to make a wish and gestured for him to blow out the candles. It took him two attempts and he wondered if he looked as foolish as he felt.

Soon, however, everyone was preoccupied with their slices of cake and mingling with one another. Obi-Wan had to admit despite his embarrassment of having so many eyes on him, the cake was rather good. It was certainly his favorite kind from the Great Hall and he was quietly delighted when Satine offered him another piece.

“You know today’s not my birthday,” He told Satine as she sat down next to him cutting into her own slice.

“I know,” She smirked, “I know that your birthday isn’t today or tomorrow, but is actually February 29th. Despite what anyone else may say about this though, is that it’s still worth celebrating even if the day won’t appear again for a few more years.”

He blinked at her, shocked. He knew she’d been interested in figuring out his birthday, but he had assumed she’d dropped it by now, “How did you find out?”

“Years of observation,” It wasn’t a helpful answer, but he had to admire her intelligence in getting this far, “So am I right?” She leaned in close to him, her eyes searching his for the answer.

“Yes,” He answered quietly.

“Kenobi!” Hondo nearly knocked him into his cake when he slapped him on the back, “Why have you not shared your birthday with me before! Hondo gives fabulous presents that one would not wish for in their wildest dreams!”

“Ah thank you Hondo,” He peeled Hondo’s arm off his shoulders. He was fairly sure Hondo was correct in his assumption that he definitely wouldn’t have wished for whatever lurked in Hondo’s present in any of his dreams.

“You’re welcome, my friend! Only the best for one of my closest associates,” He winked at him before waltzing away back into the crowd. Obi-Wan watched him go as Satine stifled her laughter.

“I assumed you’d want to open your presents later?” She asked.

“I have presents?” He looked around the room until he spotted them and blanched. There had to be at least 10 sitting there in a pile just for him, “I can’t accept that,” He looked at her with wide eyes and she narrowed her eyes.

“It would be ruder for you to reject them,” He looked between her and the presents. A catch 22.

“I’m not opening Hondo’s in front of anyone,” He decided and she laughed again.

Suddenly there was a loud crash and they both looked up to see Anakin sprawled out on the floor. Obi-Wan’s heart flew into his throat thinking of a similar event at the last party he’d gone to at this school. Before he could run over there though, Anakin was sitting up with a dopey smile on his face. He giggled.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief, but something still didn’t seem right. Anakin had Qui-Gon’s help to stand up, but he wobbled. He looked a little bit like he was drunk, but he doubted Satine or Cody would spike the punch at his birthday party. Cody seemed to have a similar guess because he took a sip of his own punch and frowned.

“Don’t you think,” Anakin giggled so hard he almost fell down again, “Don’t you think that Miraj Scintel is the most beautiful girl you’ve ever met?”

The room went silent.

“She’s really beautiful,” He said again giggling wildly. He tripped and Qui-Gon just barely managed to catch him.

Half the room broke out into laughter, it was a ridiculous sight, but Obi-Wan was more worried about what the cause of this was. Qui-Gon was too and immediately slapped a cookie out of Hondo’s hand.

“Someone’s snuck a love potion in,” Satine said standing up, looking particularly mad.

“Miraj Scintel by the sound of it,” Cin Drallig raised an eyebrow as they all quietly set their food down.

“Must have been after you Kenobi,” Fives pointed out, “After all this is technically your party.”

“Me?” He barely talked to the girl and found her quite detestable, they were as different as they came.

“It’s possible any of you were the target,” Qui-Gon frowned as he picked up Anakin to keep him from getting anywhere.

“Hey put me down! I need to go tell Miraj Scintel that I love her!” Anakin cried, “Rex, do you think she’ll like me back.”

Rex was looking at Anakin as if he were contagious, but he just gave him an awkward nod and a, “Sure mate.”

“I’ll take him to Madam Nema,” He told everyone and gave a steady gaze at Obi-Wan, “He’ll be fine. In the meantime I’m sorry, but it looks like we’ll have to cut this party short.”

Before long the room had thinned out leaving just Obi-Wan, Satine, Cody, and a mess to clean up.

“You don’t have to help, Ben,” Satine said with a sigh as she pulled out her wand, “It’s your birthday after all.”

“And leave you to do all the work? I don’t think so,” He stood beside her as they both pulled the streamers off the ceiling with their wands. Cody made short work of sending all their food back down to the kitchens. The three of them moved the desks back to where they were meant to before collapsing together at a section of desks in the center of the room.

“Who knew a party would be so much work?” Cody complained as he picked a bit of streamer out of his hair.

“I did,” Obi-Wan answered quietly, “I really appreciate the thought, but I’m not sure I like having all the attention on me.”

“The point of a birthday party is just to be around those that love you,” She told him, “Yeah it’s a little embarrassing being sung too or opening presents, but there are some things in life you just have to accept.”

“I’m not sure,” He would really rather not make such a big fuss about something as mundane as the day he was born. Satine gave him a rather scathing look for a moment before sighing deeply and reaching into her bag.

“Do you remember when I was late coming back to school?” She asked them.

“Only every day,” He complained and Cody just nodded. She sized them both up before pulling out her wallet and, as if it was physically painful for her she pulled out a thin white card.

“I was late because I was getting my driver’s license,” She set the card down in front of them, revealing Satine in rather bad lighting. On the right was a list of identifying information and quite interested, Obi-Wan picked it up to look at it.

Cody immediately had broken into a fit of laughter, catching the end of Satine’s fiery glare, “It looks like a mug shot!”

“That’s why I wasn’t too interested in telling anyone!” She snatched the card out of his hands and Obi-Wan just blinked looking over at her.

“What’s wrong with it? You look lovely,” That comment just made Cody laugh harder and earned him Satine’s glare as well.

“It’s a bloody terrible photo!” She shouted shoving the thing far back in her wallet and stashing it back where it belonged, “The point is,” She emphasized, “Sometimes you have to suffer through some embarrassment in life, I doubt having a birthday party is as terrible as having that as an identifying picture.”

“I don’t see what’s so bad about it,” He looked between Cody and Satine. It showcased her hair and although she wasn’t smiling, in it he could see the softness in her eyes.

“You are unbelievable, Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Satine’s face had gone red, “I show you the worst picture of me forced to exist and you still think being sung too is worse?”

“Let’s open presents!” Cody changed the subject quickly, shoving a shoddily wrapped gift into his hands and trying to whisper, “Come on mate, open it! She already has a mugshot, what’s going to stop her from murdering us.”

“Cody!”

[labyrinthof-fan-fiction]

The Princess and the Smuggler

Leia Organa X Han Solo Drabble

Summary: Leia’s been wrapped up in the politics of the New Republic and the politics of her new marriage. At least political abilities run in her blood. 

A/N: These two are my original OTP. I love them with my entire soul. I miss them and the new trilogy did them so wrong. Look I enjoyed it, but I wanted better. Finnpoe for example, would have been better. But I’ve always wondered how the years after the First Rebellion went for my favorite duo, or at least take my own personal spin on it.

Warnings: Sexual Themes, Annoyed Leia.

Word Count: 1,026

Leia was hiding, she knew this, she acknowledged it, but she still hid in her room. When she had been a senator her privacy had been often sacrificed, yet she still persisted. Even when she began to join the Rebellion she continued on. She stared the Emperor in the eye, she faced Darth Vader, her father, she should not be hiding in her room.

Her mind froze when she remembered her lineage. For years she had lived as the daughter of Bail and Breha of Alderaan. She was a princess, then the youngest senator ever elected. This fact now amused her upon the realization of her birth mother. Padmè Amidala. Politics seemed to have been hardwired into her genetics, not her brother’s though. The amount of minor conflicts she spent her time cleaning up related to Luke were enough to send her into the center of another galactic war.

Yes, rebuilding the Jedi Order was on her list of things that needed to happen to rebuild the New Galactic Republic, but it was not a driving force for her. Luke would talk her ear off about being sure to mention the possibility of a new Jedi Order, about how it could bring peace to the New Republic. Convincing Senators that they should not execute Luke as the son of Vader took most of her time, and some days she wanted to offer him up to them on a silver platter. When it became public knowledge that she was his sister, they called for the public execution of both children of Vader, completely forgetting her work as a Senator and leader within the Rebellion.

Several assassination attempts had been made, at this point she had lost count. Han, however, had not. He kept a constant tally of the number and reminded her when she attempted something that he thought too risky. Han was a protective and loving husband, it was that first bit that made diplomacy hard, especially after the assassination attempts. Meeting with planetary dignitaries with Chewbacca behind you was not the most effective way of creating alliances. Mon Motha had sent the duo on several missions to keep the peace when sensitive dignitaries and representatives made an appearance.

Tonight she found herself standing on the balcony of her Senator apartment. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was how her mother had felt. Staring into the city, determined to change the galaxy, scared that she would fail. After the Rebellion she had become determined to learn about her family. The Organas and Alderaan had been her family and home, but she was curious. Padmè Amidala had been inspirational for her when she became a Senator. Amidala had been able to institute so much change at a young age. Questions swirled around inside her mind, ones that she doubted would ever be answered. Did she know that he was going to become Vader? Had she seen it? How did she mange everything?

The woman who gave her life had faced the fact that she was pregnant from a secret relationship. That she would never be able to openly be a married couple with her husband. Then she had to watch as he became consumed by the Dark Side. There had been several moments when she wondered how her mother coped with the knowledge of what he had done. Luke had been adamant about sharing all the knowledge he learned about the Jedi Order, including the massacre at the Temple. Leia felt a chill down her spine as she remembered his detailing of the events. She didn’t know what she would have done if it would have been Han and herself. She shook the thought from her head.

Han was a good man. That was evident by his campaign to liberate Kashyyyk with Chewbacca. He had been determined to release the Wookies from Imperial control, even at the expense of his own life. His friendship with Chewbacca was the motivation to help. He pulled together an unruly group of smugglers to help. It was admirable, and made her love him more, even if at the time she had been irritated with his choices. By removing himself from the New Republic General position he had relinquished any rescues. With the Imperial control begin stronger than they had thought, the New Republic finally sent ships to aid them. Chewbacca had stayed behind with his family. This had given the couple the first time alone since Endor.

Han entered the apartment, she could hear him muttering to himself. She would bet that it had something to do with the most recent mission he had been sent on. She heard him toss his jacket on the back of one of their chairs. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder. “Hello, princess.”

“Welcome back.” She murmured, closing her eyes as he nuzzled his face against her neck. They remained silent for a moment, taking in the small window of time they had to be truly alone.

“R2 has asked that we don’t go on another mission with your brother for at least a month.” Han said, breaking the silence.

“Oh, has R2?” She asked, the corners of her lips turning up.

“Yes, he has.” His arms pulled her closer to him. “He misses his wife. He’s feeling awfully lonely in the Falcon.”

“He knew that this was going to be a part of their marriage.” Leia murmured, turning in Han’s arms so she was facing him. She looked into his hazel eyes. “It won’t last forever.”

He nodded. “My offer to escape on the Falcon and become a smuggling duo still stands.”

She chuckled, putting her forehead against his. “Might be a nice change of pace.”

“And we could start on that family we talked about.” He placed a kiss to her forehead as he said this.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “We could start thinking about that now.”

“I love you.” He said, picking her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“I know.” She said before pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

[jasontoddiefor]

Tiny Emperor Luke AU Chapter 10

Also known as “Obi-Wan thinks Luke is dead and grieves on Alderaan ft. Bail Organa”.

Tumblr Tag | AO3

The first few days back on Alderaan passed in a haze. He knew he had all but collapsed in Breha’s arms, running low on energy. Obi-Wan had made it through the worst the war and all that Tatooine’s summers had to offer and yet he had broken down like a youngling, utterly exhausted. The Queen had put him in the same little cabin he’d lived in just a month ago and given him strict orders not to disappear.

It seemed unbelievable. Obi-Wan’s life had changed within the span of days so often, and yet he couldn’t grasp that just a month ago everything had been alright.

Not perfect, far from it, but alright.

He had told Beru that he’d be gone for two weeks while Owen was out working on the vaporators. She had laughed, told him not to worry and allowed him to visit Luke. The boy had been sleeping right up until Obi-Wan had stepped into his room to leave him another toy ship.

Beru had once let it slip that Luke adored the handcrafted ships much more than any other of his toys, much to Owen’s annoyance.

“Owen Lars was a good man,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

Bail took a seat next to him on the sofa. Breha had returned to the palace while Bail had stayed behind.

“He took in Luke without asking another question, loved his wife and his nephew dearly. I think, for all that he resented the pain Anakin represented, he might have loved the chance to have a brother as well.”

During the really dark days, the second year or so he had been on Tatooine, Obi-Wan had wondered whether the reason they didn’t get along was the fact that Owen Lars was an inherently good man. He was protective of his family, devoted, and wanted nothing but to see them happy. He was honorable down to the core and had even brought water and food to Obi-Wan’s meager dwellings when he had come to ask about floating toys and the kind of separation anxiety only Force-sensitive children experienced.

Owen Lars was a good man and Obi-Wan was a monster.

He’d justified all his actions in front of the Council and they had approved again and again as he committed hideous crimes in the name of the Republic and peace. Looking back, Obi-Wan knew that the Jedi had fallen from their path the moment they had stepped up to be Generals, but there hadn’t been any other options. Obi-Wan hadn’t been a proper Jedi in over a decade and that was perhaps the only reason the next words escaped him so easily.

“I hated him,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Still do. He told me to stay away so I wouldn’t get even more Skywalkers killed and I did just as he asked me to because I thought he was right.”

Bail put his arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulder, the hold so reminiscent of the way little Leia had thrown herself around Obi-Wan’s neck on the last day he had been on Alderaan the first time around.

“It’s not your fault, Obi-Wan,” Bail said. “You cannot blame yourself.”

“But it is my fault. I should have been there, begun training Luke so he’d be safer and I would know if anything happened to him. He’d already latched onto me when we had finally made it to Tatooine and that bond never broke. I should have reinforced it. I was already thinking about keeping him, raising him myself, but I thought he would be better off with his family. I walked the edge of their land so often, tempted to steal him away, but I always told myself I couldn’t give him what he needed, that he'd be safer away from me and now he’s-“

Dead.

Gone.

Like everyone else. People always left him behind and not for the first time did Obi-Wan wonder what lesson the Force was attempting to teach him that he always failed it. Maybe he had never outgrown the angry thirteen-year-old child, too attached to everyone around him. The galaxy might be a better place if he hadn’t been in it. Anakin wouldn’t have been trained or maybe he would have gotten a Master who could have stopped him from falling, who’d be able to protect his children and burn the Empire to the ground.

Obi-Wan knew he couldn’t do it anymore.

“It’s not your fault,” Bail insisted. “You Jedi always had a habit of piling the weight of every star onto your backs.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Held it. Exhaled.

“It was our calling,” Obi-Wan said. “We were meant to protect every life.”

If the desert had taught him one thing, then it had shown him in perfect clarity what the Jedi should have been doing. Obi-Wan didn’t know where Palpatine’s machinations had started and ended, how many choices his Order really had been able to make in the end before they were slaughtered, but he could feel in his bruised and broken bones who they always should have been.

And who Obi-Wan never could be.

“And what is your calling now?” Bail asked.

Obi-Wan didn’t have an answer for him. He should finish what he had started all those years ago on Mustafar, show Anakin mercy and kill Vader for his Padawan. He should look for any remaining Jedi, die in the most honorable way, like a star on the verge of collapse.

He should, he should, he should-

He didn’t.

Sensing that Obi-Wan didn’t have an answer for him, Bail began to speak again. Alderaan’s Senator had aged, but by far not as much as Obi-Wan and yet, despite all the marks grief had left behind, Bail still managed to smile kindly.

“After you left the last time, Leia kept asking for you,” Bail said. “’When is Mister Ben coming back?’ and ‘Do you think he can tell me more stories?’ She has taken quite a liking to you and not only because you showed her how to make her books float on purpose.”

“I can’t stay here,” Obi-Wan said. “The first trip here was already a risk and this second- I never should have come back.”

Alderaan was as anti-Imperial as you could be without outright committing treason. They were under constant scrutiny and Obi-Wan couldn’t risk endangering the government of an entire planet. If even just one Imperial spy could see past the image of a haunted man, Alderaan would be made an example of.

“But you did.”

“Because I was desperate.”

The brutal honesty had become one of Obi-Wan’s most well-known companions. On Coruscant, he always had to watch his words no matter whether he spoke in front of Representative or another Jedi. People had high expectations of him and Obi-Wan had lied so often to please everyone around him that the truth the sharp winds of the last years had cut into him was terrifying but relieving.

Bail let go of Obi-Wan and with a sigh unbefitting of a royal, jabbed Obi-Wan’s ribs like they were children instead of grown men.

“You are my friend and you were Padmé’s friend,” Bail said. “You’ve been alone for a very long time, so do me a favor and honor those friendships and let us help you.”

“I’m not a good man, Bail,” Obi-Wan said. “Chaos follows me everywhere.”

Bail smiled and Obi-Wan wanted nothing more but to know how he managed it after all the horrors he had been forced to witness.

“At least this way I’ll always know where it is, instead of having to chase my daughter down.”

“Leia is a sweet child,” Obi-Wan replied.

Happy too, loved and cared for like her brother had been.

“I’m not denying that,” Bail said. “I am simply pointing out that she also happens to be an utter terror with no regard for people who do not have her particular brand of luck on their side. It must be a Jedi thing, Master Kenobi.”

“I’m not a Jedi anymore.”

“You have to be. My daughter is depending on it.”

Obi-Wan was hesitant to try. There were so many things that could go wrong and Leia was safe still and with luck, she’d never need to wield a weapon, certainly nothing more dangerous than a blaster.

But if Luke had been able to, he might still be alive and Obi-Wan didn’t have anyone left. His people had all been executed and all that remained of them were him and Leia Organa, her father’s laughter and her mother’s wit.

“I need time,” Obi-Wan said.

Time to heal and time to think and time to teach Leia to be better than the Jedi had ever been.

“Of course,” Bail agreed.

Obi-Wan could only hope she wouldn’t resent him for burdening her with the legacy of a thousand generations, that someday she might even forgive him for depriving her of the chance to share that weight with her brother.

He wasn’t sure he ever would.

[ofalderaan]

Leia had never been sure of his age - most of the time, he looked far older than her father, weathered and weak. But there bad been moments when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught him moving with a surprising grace, the years falling away from his suddenly youthful face.    He lacked every quality her father had possessed: nobility, courage, wisdom. Though he called himself a botanist, his main skill seemed to be currying favor.    He grinned and nodded with greasy ease, laughing heartily at the weakest joke, complimenting the gaudiest gown. And yet Bail Organa had spoken of him privately with respect.

Rebel Force: Hostage Alex Wheeler

[gabriel4sam]

Three is a magical number, or how Bail Organa wasn’t on Coruscant on the most important day of the Republic

A little Bail/Breha/Obi-Wan fic, written for  EclipseMidnight (EternalEclipse) in  @swrarepairs​ beta-ed by @wrennette​

It all started when someone tried to murder Obi-Wan Kenobi. An inconvenient event, but not exactly a rare one. And from there, it all snowballed until three lovers found each other and Bail Organa, who had never missed a Senate session since his election, wasn’t even on Coruscant the day the fate of the Republic was decided.

All of this started without fanfare.

Well, it started with an explosion, but that was the usual. Where Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker went, and before that where Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi went, things exploded, from ships to space stations to (only once) a poor Hutt who had swallowed a grenade.

No, what needs to be remembered is that it started exactly like a lot of days started for Obi-Wan Kenobi. Someone tried to kill him. There was nothing strange about that, nothing unusual.

Someone tried to kill him and Obi-Wan didn’t even bother to act surprised. Since the first day he had stepped out of the Temple, in theory to go to the Agricorps, it had happened a lot.

So, when a warning in the Force had given him just enough time to toss the two clones with him on the shuttle into the nearest building through a window before the explosion, he hadn’t been surprised.

(On a totally unrelated note, those two clones met on this occasion the owner of the flat they had unceremoniously entered through said window and would later ran away with her to parts unknown and be very happy, but this is not their story.)

No, this story is about Obi-Wan and the insufficient time he had had to toss himself properly into safety after the clones, and about the Senator he had a meeting scheduled with that day.

A meeting Obi-Wan didn’t attend, being unconscious and in the hands of the Healers.

Bail Organa, who chaired that particular sub-committee about war refugees, was too fine a politician to let even the shadow of a moment of surprise show on his face when, only five minutes late because the Jedi were nothing but efficient, the door opened and a Jedi entered the room.

A Jedi, but not the one he was waiting for, unless Obi-Wan Kenobi had far more talent for disguise than Bail thought. As everybody took their places with the usual unnecessary level of noise, he observed the unknown Jedi from the corner of his eye. A Mirialan woman, wearing dark colours. Age had slightly hunchbacked her, she was perhaps eighty years old, probably more, but her eyes were clear, sparkling with will. Oh, what did Bail know, she could be somewhere between eighty years old and two hundred, for all he knew! Bail wasn’t very good at guessing people's ages, and Jedi were quite tricky on that matter.

He refocused on the days subject and stood up to introduce the first speaker. The Jedi Order’s envoy was only here to observe today, and the change of their representative could wait for later.

At the end of the meeting, Bail ditched another Senator trying to convince him to go to lunch, and bowed to the Jedi.

“Senator Bail Organa,” he introduced himself to the Mirialan woman, and she bowed in return.

“Your actions have made you well-known, Senator,” she said, “and House Organa’s long term friendship and help to our Order is even more known, and appreciated. I am Master Cyslin Myr.”

“It is an honor for this sub-comittee to have you attending our meetings,” Bail said, more on autopilot than anything.

“I appreciate your kindness, Senator, especially for an old Jedi you weren’t waiting for.”

“Master Myr-“

“No, no, you don’t have to be ashamed. Our Obi-Wan makes quite a sensation on the holonet, of course, and every sub-committee in need of a Jedi will  imagine its importance rising if the Negotiator himself is on board, you could say. The Order understands it, of course, and we play the game, no matter how frustrating it can be, because it is the way of democracy. Nevertheless, my former Padwan told me your interest in Master Kenobi is more than professional?”

“Friendship, Master, there is a shared friendship between Master Kenobi and myself, dare I say.”

“Then, Senator, I have bad news.”

****

It was rare that people who weren’t Jedi were allowed to step into the Healing Halls. Jedi had no family outside the Order after all, a clean slate from the moment they entered the nursery. Friendship was of course permitted, but it wasn’t usually close enough for visits.

Bail Organa knew all of that and he wisely didn’t comment on the invitation Master Myr had offered, like it would jinx it and he wouldn’t be permitted to see Obi-Wan.

His friend had always had the complexion of a fair maiden in a holodrama, he was a red head after all, but he was quite ashen that day, even the lips.

“I don’t understand,” Bail said to the Healer, a stern Twilek Jedi, after contemplating the unconscious man a few minutes, “I believed Jedi healing was almost immediate.”

“It is,” the Master said grimly. “Master Kenobi had been healed from the internal bleeding, the torn ligaments and the broken bones. Like he had been, three days ago, when he came back from a mission with damage to his neck. And two weeks before that, with a crushed leg. And the week before, directly from the field, with a shoulder wound, and-“

“I think I understand, Master Jedi, the list is unnecessary. At the Senate, we’re quite aware of the blood the Jedi spill for the war effort.”

“That’s not the impression we have,” the Healer commented, her tone harsher that Bail was used to from one of the warrior-monks.

“It will be enough, Master Che,” a voice said, and Bail turned to it and immediately bowed very low, this time more with great respect than out of habit. He had come to know Mace Windu in the Senate, and the man deserved his admiration and frankly more help than he usually received from Bail’s colleagues. Sometimes, Bail had the frustrating thought that the Jedi would have stopped the war long ago if the politicians didn’t get in their way so much.

“Walk with me,” Mace Windu said, and Bail half-turned to Obi-Wan in surprise, because the poor man was so pale, he looked like he would go into the Force if someone didn’t watch over him. And Bail had always been a bit of a mother hen with his friends.

A small smile played on the severe face of Master Windu, taking away a few years, and he added:

“I can assure you, Obi-Wan is in good hands in our Halls, and my Master will even keep him company.”

Bail hadn’t even seen the frail silhouette of Master Myr, behind the impressive shoulders of the Master of the Order. He hadn’t even known she had been Mace Windu’s master and he realized, as he saw her sitting down next to the bed, that it hadn’t been a coincidence which brought her as Obi-Wan’s replacement to the sub-committee. Mace Windu had sent her, as a way to bring Bail at Obi-Wan’s bedside in a way that seemed only a natural sequence of coincidences. He looked closer at Master Windu. He knew the keen intelligence behind those black eyes. It certainly wasn’t compassion that had made Mace Windu take the time to bring one Senator to one Jedi’s bedside. Not that he was devoid of sympathy, but he had better things to do with his time in these difficult war years.

So, Bail’s first question, once they were walking in the Room of the Thousand Fountains, was straight to the point: “What can I do for you and for the Order, Master Windu?”

Bail could have wrapped it up in other questions, or let Mace Windu arrive to the point slowly, but he was pretty sure the other man was even busier than Bail, and it would have been almost insulting to the long tradition linking the Order and the Organa family, to pretend he wouldn’t give what they wanted of him. He trusted that man enough to know Mace Windu would never ask something that wasn’t honourable.

“Obi-Wan’s mind isn’t healing the way it should,” Mace Windu said instead of the request Bail was waiting for. “It happens sometimes, when the body had been through a quick succession of grievous wounds and fast healing. He is one of our best Generals and we aren’t numerous enough anymore for the task the Republic ask of us. I grieve the fact that many of us have been returned too soon to the field, after being healed.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Master Windu, and everything I can do to lessen the tasks of the Order…”

“I know,” Mace Windu said, and once again, that quick half-smile, “but what I will ask you will be easier than what you imagine. I want you to take Obi-Wan to Alderaan.”

“It …yes, of course, but I must confess-“

“You were imagining yourself playing defector and spying on the Separatists?”

“Almost. And…not that we don’t have very good medicine on Alderaan, but isn’t the best care for Obi-Wan here?”

“His body is healed. He should even awaken in a few days. But his mind will need time, time he wouldn’t take here. And I have another reason to ask you, something that you’ll need to discuss with your security officer. This morning, when Obi-Wan was stable and sleeping, a droid entered the Temple through the vents. It was a vicious little thing, and it went directly to Master Kenobi. If Master Che hadn’t forgotten her set of healing crystals in his room and arrived just in time to disable the droid, he would have joined the Force.”

“Someone tried to assassinate Obi-Wan in the Temple ?!” Bail blurted in surprise, and his chest felt tight, despite the wonderful scent of plants in the air and the singing of the fountains.

“Yes. He is a ferocious warrior, I don’t need to tell you that, as you undertook that terrible mission with him a few months ago. The perpetrator simply decided that, since Obi-Wan was vulnerable, it was the right time to finish the job. When he couldn’t defend himself. It was probably the same perpetrator who exploded the shuttle he was on, and your security officers need to be aware of the circumstances. Even if we, the Council, hope that sending Obi-Wan away from Coruscant will be enough for his - for his enemies to redirect their plotting in another direction.”

“You aren’t talking about Separatist spies on Coruscant, are you? You are talking about the Sith Lord.”

Bail could feel the Jedi tensing up, like a physical feeling; like an ancient, animal part of his brain, had suddenly registered the other man not as the pleasant being he had met dozens of time, but as a predator, ready to pounce. Mace Windu stopped walking and studied Bail’s face with an off-putting attention. Jedi sometimes had predatory gazes, not very comfortable for the one under scrutiny. In the Senate, Bail had seen grizzled politicians fold under Master Windu’s eyes like houses of cards under a strong wind.

“Obi-Wan’s lips are looser than they are supposed to be,” The Master commented finally.

“Oh, it wasn’t Obi-Wan,” Bail said, before closing his mouth so hard his teeth hurt. It was a Junior Senator’s mistake, saying that. If Master Windu didn’t like that Bail knew about the Sith, he wouldn’t appreciate that it was Padmé Amidala who had told him, and he would like to know who had told Padmé!

Bail immediately carried on:

“I will prepare for departure immediately. My junior Senator will undertake my tasks in the Senate.”

Master Windu was kind enough to go along with that obvious change of topic.

“Thank you, Senator. You accomplish a great deal in the Senate and I know it certainly isn’t easy for a man like you to leave the arena for a time.”

“May I ask, you say what ails Obi-Wan happens sometimes…. What of the others? We can certainly house other Jedi if necessary.”

Mace Windu seemed surprised. How long had it been, since someone had offered help unasked to the Jedi Order? Offered more than was asked? The Jedi were always the ones helping, such was the way of the galaxy. Who helped those who helped the galaxy?

“I insist,” Bail said and Master Windu nodded, and that small smile made an appearance again. It was oddly endearing and Bail realized that he would like to become that man’s friend, and not only his ally. Perhaps he should send an invite for the next party they would have at Alderaan’s embassy…even if forcing Master Windu to spend more time with politicians could perhaps be seen as a declaration of war, more than an offer of friendship!

Ten hours later, Bail supervised the loading of a shuttle with tinted windows of ten Jedi, eight on stretchers including Obi-Wan. He thought the only mobile Jedi who would accompany them was a Mon Calamari Jedi Healer who introduced herself as Master Eerin, but at the last minute, the door of the platform opened and Master Myr herself came to the ship, followed by Master Windu, apparently in charge of her pack. Bail politely found something else to watch when the two said their goodbyes. In these times of war, there was no certainty the two Jedi would see each other again.

And Bail’s ship left for Alderaan.

Alderaan.

No matter how many worlds Bail visited, no other planet would ever compare.

Alderaan and the beauty of its mountains, the light playing on its lakes, the sweetness of its nights, the talents of its artists.

Alderaan, and its most precious jewel, his beloved wife Breha.

She waited for them at their arrival, something that touched Bail every time. He knew how busy her schedule was.

“Rooms have been prepared for your patients in the infirmary,” the Queen said to the two bowing Jedi, “separate from the other patients, to be sure your patients won’t pick up anything in the Force.” And to be sure any potential murderers wouldn’t risk unsuspecting civilians as collateral damage, but Breha was too smart to say that outdoors, where anyone could listen.

Even on Alderaan, the war was spreading caution.

Bail could have gone back to Coruscant, of course, but the idea of leaving the palace, even with all the guards, when some murderer could come to end one of their Jedi guests, was just impossible.

He had told the most important points to Breha already  over a secure line during their travel, but they came back to the subject once they had retired for the evening to their private rooms, nestled together on a couch.

“You did well,” Breha said, as she had before.

“Even if I brought someone that users of the Dark side of the Force could follow back to our home? Did I put our people in danger?"

She stroked his thighs, a gesture of comfort.

“Probably, but how could we spend our lives blind and deaf to the suffering of the galaxy, just for the hope that it would keep our people safe? And it wouldn’t really make Alderaan a safer place. History has taught us that the darkness you ignore because it covers others, will one day turn to you. We’ll advance the date of the last session of parliament, and it will empty a good part of the palace. And to be sure nobody thinks it’s about the Jedi, we’ll put that on my health.”

He kissed her hair, sagging into the mountain of pillows on the couch. Their rooms were the only place in the entire galaxy where he could really relax. With her, that woman he adored, Bail felt like he could stop playing Viceroy Organa, stop representing Alderaan.

“You’ll like him,” Bail said, to open a less depressing conversation.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi? I hope so. With all the compliments you’ve given him, I would be quite disappointed if he revealed himself to be boring, and your fascination only came from that thing you have for redheads.”

And Bail couldn’t do anything but laugh, because if there was one thing that Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t, it was boring, and Breha, beloved Breha, was even worse than him about red hair. The few lovers they had shared in the years of their marriage had been humans, or near humans, with red hair; and sometimes, when it was late and they were tired, they liked to talk about the possibility of finding one they wouldn’t just have for a few days. Someone who would stay.

Three was a sacred number, on Alderaan.

**********

The first Jedi, a Bothan female with the eyes of a great Krayt dragon, woke up thirty hours after their arrival, and the second Jedi two days later. One by one, the Jedi opened their eyes, or equivalent organs, in the calm haven of the palace.

Bail and Breha visited each and every one of them, to assure them of their welcome on Alderaan, to offer everything they could in terms of physiotherapy or simply time and a calm environment for them to finish healing. And every evening, they had Master Eerin and Master Myr dine at their table, as a way to reaffirm in the eyes of the court their support for the Jedi Order.

Breha loved to break her fast in the morning with the Jedi. Bail regularly endured, and that term wasn’t strong enough, work breakfasts with various ambassadors, politicians, and moguls of conglomerates. The medical specialists had dictated that Breha, with her failing health, shouldn’t be bothered so early in the day.

But the Jedi? There was pleasure in those simple moments with them. Alderaan had traditionally been their ally, but Breha had never really met one, and she began to appreciate them individually, as more than a great mass of beings with beige robes and strange powers whose objectives aligned with Alderaan’s.

The weeks passed slowly, and Breha emptied the palace the best she could, provoking an early recess for the parliament. The weeks passed and, last but not least, one fine morning, as the sun’s light slowly climbed over his face, Obi-Wan Kenobi woke up, a little disoriented since his last memories took place in a shuttle on fire, and he was waking up in a comfortable bed, on another planet, with the songs of the early birds in his ears. It was a real struggle to seek consciousness, like his body weighted too much, but finally, he opened his eyes, not sure if he was really awake or not.

Above his bed, a beautiful woman was leaning down. She had dark eyes and dark hair, and golden brown skin, and her smile was like the first touch of the Force.

“Welcome to Alderaan, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she said, and Obi-Wan’s heart missed a few beats in its usual rhythm. The beautiful apparition had no time for more words, because Bant, dear Bant, rushed into the room to subject Obi-Wan to their usual dance where he affirmed that he was “quite fine” and she looked ready to burst at the gills for his bad faith and what she loved to call “gross negligence of his health.” They were old actors on a piece they had repeated so many times Obi-Wan could play his part in his sleep.

Later, when Obi-Wan was sleeping again, exhausted by the simple act of a meal, Breha lead Healer Eerin in the garden.

“Tell me about Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she said to the young Jedi.

“I don’t know what your majesty want to know. Jedi’s lives are far less interesting than holodramas would let you believe.”

“It is impolite to contradict honoured guests, so I will pretend to believe you, but let it be known that I haven’t forgotten that Master Kenobi is here because people tried to kill him. Twice.”

“To be honest, it’s a terrible habit of Obi-Wan’s that not all our brethren share. Twice is a slow week, for him.”

“You have known him a long time?”

“Since we were no more than younglings in the creche. All my life, in fact.”

The Queen let a friendly hand touch Bant’s shoulder.

“It must be difficult, to see your brothers and sisters and others, risk their lives every day in this war, Master Kenobi and all the other Generals.”

For a second, Breha could have sworn she saw unshed tears in the Mon Calamari’s bulbous eyes, but the Jedi’s control made them disappear almost immediately. Together, they watched as Master Myr led the two Jedi patients who weren’t bed-ridden anymore in a very slow series of katas. The old Mirialan woman, who walked with a cane most of the time, showed a grace Breha found ethereal.

“My brethren who left us are in the Force,” Bant said finally, “and I find comfort in that fact. And in the fact that my patients brought here by your husband will heal better than on Coruscant. And they are safe, for now.”

“For now,” Breha agreed sadly, because the Bothan Jedi was already talking of leaving to join the war effort again. Since staying upright too long was exhausting for Breha, she sat down on a stone bench in a small alcove of vegetation, Bant hovering next to her.

After a moment of silence, observing together the katas, Bant started again:

“I know you have your own team of healers, but I would be honoured to have the permission to examine you, your Majesty.”

“Those are old problems, Master Jedi, it’s far too late to do anything about it. My medics help me manage my pain levels.”

“I am sure they are excellent professionals, your Majesty. The level of dedication and professionalism I’ve seen in your people since our first day here is excellent. But Force Healing is….it is Other. I won’t lie and say I will snap my fingers and everything will suddenly be perfect. But, as a sign of our gratitude, I would like to help.”

Breha’s throat tightened. Years of chronic health problems had made her suspicious of hope. Because of that, she had given up her dear dream of a child. Because of that, she had had to put more duties than were traditionally the consort’s job on Bail’s shoulders. Because of that, her everyday life was a careful calculation, between her needs and her duties.

“Now,” Breha said. “Now, before I change my mind. Hope is quite a dangerous drug.”

Bant bowed very low and she offered her arm to the Queen to go back to the medical wing.

The next day, Obi-Wan awoke at dawn again and felt good enough for a few steps in the sun, with Bant’s arm around his waist.

“Who was she? The woman at my bedside?” he asked. Not first. Because he was a Jedi, so he asked about his Padawan. Because he believed in democracy, he asked about the latest negotiations. Because he was a General, he asked about the war.

But the first question he asked for himself was that one.

“The Queen of Alderaan, Breha Organa,” Bant answered, and Obi-Wan went pale, then red.

Since Bant knew him so well, she said nothing more. No need to trigger a furious desire to skedaddle.

At their return in the room, Bail was there.

“My friend,” Bail exclaimed, and to Obi-Wan’s surprise, Bail hugged him, more casual that the Jedi had ever seen him. Bail Organa gave excellent hugs, Obi-Wan decided, closing his eyes and indulging in a few seconds of his friend’s warmth. There was a goodness in this man that radiated in the Force and seemed to shine from him. Bail Organa was - he was safe and comforting and solid and careful with people, and Obi-Wan craved his presence, since they had become friends, in a way that sometimes made him feel quite ashamed.

“Master Myr and Master Eerin, and all the Jedi who have permission from the healers to leave their bed, are dining tonight in our wing of the palace,” Bail explained, “and I have come to invite you too, if Master Eerin give you her benevolent permission.”

“With pleasure, your Highness. I am even grateful to you. I would spend the meal worried Obi-Wan was slipping from his bed for dangerous adventures, if he wasn’t with us.”

“I am not so bad,” her old friend protested immediately.

“From what I have seen, you are,” Bail joked good-naturally, and Obi-Wan glared at him.

The Queen and her consort didn’t use the ceremonial rooms used for state dinners for the Jedi. Not that they didn’t want to honour their guests, but the few of them would have been lost in a room designed to seat easily four hundred people.

No, that night, like every other time the Jedi had shared their table, they dined in the private wing, in the room the couple used when their close family visited. As Breha looked at them, she realized it had stopped being a political statement, to have the Jedi had their table.

It had become friendship.

She loved discussing Mirialan literature with Master Myr. She appreciated young Master Eerin’s pragmatic attitude, and her dry humour. Even the Bothan Jedi, Master Knol Ven'nari, although frankly a little terrifying, was a fascinating being, full of anecdotes on the Outer Rim. Breha had found herself taking notes during their conversations, finding in them numerous ways to better the Republic’s relief efforts, in which Alderaan played a big part.

The efforts of Bant to help better Breha’s health weren’t exactly an impediment to liking the Jedi either. The Mon Calamari had never lied and pretended the Force could do miracles. It had been too long, since the beginning of Breha’s health problems, her body was too battle-worn, and Bant would probably be called back to Coruscant, or to the front, too soon. But in an afternoon of work, the Jedi had already helped Breha regain a part of her lost range of motion, in the neck. It was only a part of a normal range of motion, but it had felt enormous and even if the effects probably wouldn’t be permanent, Breha savoured every minor progress.

And tonight, for the first time, Obi-Wan Kenobi was at their table, too. He had the most beautiful eyes in person, Breha immediately noticed, something Bail hadn’t told her, and that the holo-images of him, everywhere in the Republic, didn’t really capture.

She placed him at the honoured place, on her right. He was…he was every bit a diplomat, well-read, charming, seductive, and not really letting anything true shine out.

“Did you like him?” Bail asked that night, as he was helping her shampoo her hair. She couldn’t raise her arms to do it herself anymore, and when he wasn’t on Alderaan, her handmaiden had to help. She preferred when it was Bail. With him, she didn’t think of every little thing her illness had taken from her. With him, it became almost a treat. He made it comforting or sensual, depending on their mood, but always, always good.

Tonight, she was definitely in a sensual mood. Bant’s healing had given her a boost of energy, and Bail’s hands in her hair were giving her ideas.

“He’s very charming,” she admitted, “but also very closed off. I don’t have the option of a dangerous life or death situation to break through his shell, like you had with him.”

“And thank the Three Goddesses for that.”

She turned to her husband, enticed him closer.

“You like him,” she singsonged.

“Alderaan and the Jedi….”

“No, my sweet, my love, you like him…”, she put her arms around his neck and immediately his hands went to her waist and he lifted her to set her on their bed. Their height difference was so great that it hurt her neck to kiss him standing up.

Bail kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her ear.

“Fine,” he admitted. “I’m attracted to a red headed warrior monk with a death-wish. I find his mind fascinating and his rear nicely shaped.”

“What would you do?” she asked. “If he was there with us?”

“I don’t know what his opinion is on triads, my dear. He has…he has a bit of a reputation in the Senate, so I know he isn’t celibate, but…”

“You, Bail Organa, you, you listened to gossip!? Oh, you like him even more than I thought!” Breha teased, and in revenge, he described in excruciating detail what he would do and encourage if Obi-Wan was there. Bail had quite the way with words, not very surprising for a politician, and he extended this talent into the bedroom.

And when he was finished explaining, he did a demonstration.

******************

Summer was soon in full force and the small Jedi contingent on Alderaan lost two of its members, back to the front. Bant still refused the others what Obi-Wan called their escape from custody .

Life in the hands of the Healers could be a tad boring, Obi-Wan had discovered long ago. It was for that particular reason that he spent so much time dozing off, and not, totally not, despite what Bant said, because he had an enormous sleep debt and a body working on years of abuse.

But on Alderaan, it was less boring. Every morning, since Obi-Wan was an early bird, Bail visited him before going to breakfast with various officials, and brought him interesting datapads from the palace library. The Senator always took the time to discuss what Obi-Wan thought of the ones he had already read. Bail was quite a passionate debate partner, especially since he had already read most of the contents of the library.

Every afternoon, the Queen came to the medical wing to put herself into Bant’s hands, and after, under Bant’s orders, she spent an hour in the sun in the garden, letting the Force healing’s effects settle into her body. She never slept, and she enjoyed Obi-Wan’s company in those moments. Little by little, she understood better her husband’s interest in the man. Perhaps it was also the effects on the Force healing that gave her rose tainted vision.

Once he wasn’t trying as hard to present the face of a perfect Jedi, Obi-Wan was still charming, but in an endearing way. He was passionate in his opinions, he was stubborn as the Force itself, he had a tendency to tell terrible jokes, and the worst sweet tooth Breha had ever seen. Little by little, Bant’s judicious help lessened old pains and unlocked joints, but Breha found herself more desirous of those conversations with Obi-Wan than of the sweet relief of Force Healing.

Another Jedi left them for the battlefield and when she bowed to Breha in her goodbye, the Queen felt her heart jumped in her chest. Soon, it would be Obi-Wan who would go. Every day, she knew, he had long holoconferences with his clone commander, and even longer holoconferences with his former Padawan, that didn’t seem to go very well. He felt guilty for being here, safe, with Breha and Bail, when his men were dying, when his brothers and sisters were fighting all across the Republic.

More than anyone, Breha understood duty. She knew its cost, her whose reign would steal years of her life, incompatible as it was with her health problems.

Still, when Obi-Wan laughed and joked, seated next to her in the sun, when a moan escaped him as he tasted a pastry, she wished she didn’t understand.

Obi-Wan liked Alderaan. He could say it was for the peaceful rest it had offered him, for the climate, for the comfortable bed and inexhaustible library. He could say it was for Bant’s smile, which he hadn’t seen since the beginning of the war, and that Alderaan had made bloom again. He could say it was the culture, the food, the palace’s garden, and while all those things were delightful, it still would be a lie.

If Obi-Wan liked Alderaan, it was first and foremost for its Queen and her Consort.

His morning meetings with Bail, his afternoons in the sun with Breha, had led to lunch the three of them, to tours in the garden when Breha had the strength and the time. As the unknown date of his departure came closer with every day, the knowledge that he would lose those moments was a pain he didn’t dare to examine. He could be emotionally blind and deaf, if Siri was to be believed, but he was still aware that the two of them didn’t treat him like the other Jedi.

Breha was friends with Bant and Master Myr. Bail was friendly with the whole bunch, but they spend more time with Obi-Wan, hours charged with words unsaid, with casual touch sometimes lingering too long. And Obi-Wan wanted, he wanted so much. Every morning, and every evening, he reproached himself for his weakness in his meditation. One-night stands or casual liaisons were one thing, but here, he had already passed the line in the sand, and he had not even kissed them, or admitted anything, and neither had they.

One day, Bant finished his weekly exam, and instead of the usual “Not yet, you’re not ready,” said: “Move over, let me sit with you.”

Obi-Wan obeyed, abruptly on edge, and the Healer came to sit next to him on the exam table.

“You’re so serious, suddenly,” Obi-Wan said, aiming for humour and his tone falling flat. “Is it so terrible? Will I grow another arm, or something even more bizarre?”

“If someone would, it’s probably you. But no, you’re good. Better than you have been since the beginning of the war, in fact.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, I can….I can leave.”

“Yes, you can.”

Her webbed hand found his.

“Obi…”

“Hmmm?”

“I will say that from the bottom of my heart, which adores you like the human brother I didn’t know I wanted. You are sometimes your own worst enemy.”

“Well, I prefer not to know what you would tell me if you didn’t love me,” Obi-Wan dryly remarked.

“If Master Windu hadn’t send you there, I’m not sure you would have woken up. You were burning the candle on both ends.”

“We all are.”

“But the rest of us, more or less, understand the importance of rest, of accepting comfort and support, instead of trying to take the entire world on our shoulders.”

“You’re a tad of a hypocrite, Bant. What was the last time you left your patients before the middle of the night?”

“Well, Quinlan and me…”

“ What ?”

“We didn’t know how to tell you, we feared you would find that strange.”

“Quinlan? Bant, that’s almost incest, you were raised together!”

Bant inhaled sharply.

“If it wasn’t the shock talking, I would shove you off the exam table for that,” she said, and Obi-Wan understood he had, in his stupidity, hurt her deeply with just a few words.

“But…”

“Obi, I found some happiness in darkness, and as my brother, the correct answer is congratulations.”

“…Congratulations?”

“With less of a question in the word, it would be better, but we will work on that. And now, tell me, if you leave soon this world, what could you do to find something that would make you happy? Happier. Something that you could take with you, in the night of space, something that will keep you warm.”

“Bant, Bant, I’m leaving. Soon, perhaps tomorrow.”

“Then, it’s now or never. They will never ask themselves, in their position they can’t. But you know they are only waiting for a word from you.”

She kissed his cheek.

“Perhaps it’s time you chose a little happiness for yourself.”

She left him to his thoughts.

After a moment, he took his holocomm:

“Anakin? Can you make a detour to fetch me on Alderaan?... Yes, I know you’re in route for Coruscant, but you’re the closet, it will only delay you for a day….Well, perhaps you can wait twenty hours before meeting the Chancellor again, when you haven’t seen your old Master for weeks!”

After another round of bickering with his Padawan, Obi-Wan, missing the turns in the corridors three times, slowly made his way to the palace gardens, wandering like his brain was still rebooting. Anakin would be there in less than a day, so whatever he decided, it needed to be now, when he would have preferred to have months to fret whether Bant was right or wrong. Matters of the heart were so much more complicated than battle.

He found the queen and her consort in one of their favourite places, a little hidden place under a tree, the trunk and branches creating a secret hollow under the cascading foliage. The bloom of that particular species was finished at that time of the year, and under Obi-Wan’s feet a carpeting of petals rustled, their perfume strong in the air.

Breha smiled when she saw him, and gestured in invitation. Force Healing was not a miracle, it couldn’t suddenly change her body into a totally healthy one, but even Obi-Wan could see the progress she had made, and the joy it brought her. She was glowing. He took her hand and joined them.

Then he took a careful breath and stepped into the unknown with a simple question. Searching for happiness. And the prize of his courage was the sweetness of Breha’s kiss and the strength of Bail’s arm around his waist. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, pushed to the background of his mind the countdown to Anakin’s arrival on Alderaan, and his departure. He gave himself fully to the moment. He opened his arms and bared his soul and tried his best to forget it would only be one night and gently, so gently, they pulled him against them and he found safety and closeness.

***********************************

Bail and Breha were sleeping when Obi-Wan finished dressing. Dawn was still hours away and the sparks of pleasure still lingered on his skin when he tied his belt around his waist, struggling with it like he hadn’t since he was an Initiate. He didn’t really know what he was doing. That night had been…

That night had been….

How could he go back to being so alone, when he had let them breach the walls of his entire being?

He didn’t know if he would have the strength to leave, if he woke them up for it. Bail was still curved like he had been around Obi-Wan’s smaller bulk and Breha’s hand, flat on the mattress, seemed to search for the missing body. The light of the moon exposed their almost nakedness and Obi-Wan wanted to crawl back into bed with them, and to disappear under the black, silky sheet covering their legs.

He was hesitating in the bedroom’s threshold when he heard quick steps in the hall. Someone was running into the private apartments, someone who probably wasn’t an assassin, as they didn’t try to muffle the sounds they made.

Obi-Wan turned into the bedroom and woke up his lovers. Whatever that was, he was pretty sure it was important. He could feel fate and history weighting down the Force.

“The Jedi killed the Chancellor!” The handmaiden who swooped into the rooms yelled, forgetting protocols in her turmoil and Obi-Wan could do nothing more than sit down heavily on the bed, at Bail’s feet. He put his face into his hands and grumbled:

“If this is Anakin who finally cracked, he will face so many remedial meditations. So, so, so many.”

On his shoulders, the small hand of Breha on one side, the larger hand of Bail on the other, so Obi-Wan took a careful breath and let their presence give him strength. He stood up again.

Time to face the music.

*****

Mace Windu had an eyepatch and difficulty staying upright. From the holoscreen, Obi-Wan could only see the arm of a Jedi bracing the Master of the Order to stop him from sliding down the bed. From the shape and colour of the hand, Obi-Wan though that the helper was Depa.

In the background, Master Che’s sour expression made clear she believed Mace Windu should have been sleeping, instead of taking holocalls, even calls from fellow members of the High Council.

In general, nobody in the galaxy was less impressed by the High Council than the healers in charge of keeping them alive, and they always said to anyone who was ready to listen that it was a thankless task!

It was crowded around the screen: Bail and Breha, and Obi-Wan and Bant, and the Alderaanian Prime Minister, and all the Jedi contingent still present, and a few security officers who refused to leave the Queen alone with the Jedi until more was known. It was crowded but silent. Master Che had made very clear that anybody who interrupted Master Windu with stupid questions before the end of his story would earn a place in her black book, and nobody wanted that. Not even the Prime Minister, a no nonsense woman who had never met Master Che and probably never would.

When Master Windu’s retelling of the Sith’s death was finished, there was a moment of silence. Obi-Wan had put his arm around Bant, quietly crying at the death of her former Master, poor Kit Fisto. Obi-Wan had the impression she had already known, before Mace’s report of Masters’ Fisto, Tiin and Kolar’s deaths at the hands of Palpatine, because her gills had been almost white - a sure sign of sorrow - from the moment he had found her this morning. The link between Master and Padawan was still a great mystery of the Force. Obi-Wan remembered knowing Qui-Gon would die, long before he had seen the wound, when his own fate was still unknown, fighting to the death with that thrice damned Zabrak.

“I think the Sith never intended to battle us alone,” Master Windu was saying. “I think it was a set-up. But whatever he was waiting for, or whoever, never happened.” His surviving pupil was fully dilated, the only sign he was on the good drugs, since his diction was perfect.

“He moved too many pieces,” Master Myr sagely said. “It was bound to happen. One day that one of them wouldn’t be at the place he expected, at the time he expected. It is a lesson for us all, how much we depended on his arrogance about his plans to take him down.”

“There were even more pieces than we suspected,” Master Windu continued. “Master Tholme and his team are already working with Judicials, cracking the Sith’s communications on the undeclared holocommunicators found in his apartments, and it seems he was in contact with the Separatist Council. Master Gallia has left with a team to apprehend them on the mining planet where they are hidden. It will probably take years to learn the extent of his crimes.”

The last word was a little mangled, as Mace Windu fought it against a yawn.

“Enough for today,” Master Che declared despite various protests, and Obi-Wan and the other Jedi had only time to wish a swift recovery to the Master of the Order, before the communication was shut down.

Obi-Wan was on the point of offering to accompany Bant to her rooms when all the Jedi in the room grimaced. The nova of power that was Anakin Skywalker had just arrived in orbit out of hyperspace, and his temper was a roaring tempest, so violent they could sense it from there.

“I will take care of that,” Obi-Wan announced, already anticipating accusations and a tantrum, and so much placating in his future. It really was a miracle of the Force, he decided, that Anakin hadn’t been on Coruscant during that fateful event. The young man would perhaps have done something unwise. Now that the war might stop, Anakin would have time for himself, and Obi-Wan hoped it would help.

“Take care of what?” Bail asked, surprised, but Breha was more reactive, and offered her arm to Bant, asking:

“Master Eerin, let me take you to your rooms? Or perhaps the garden? Nature is such a balm against our pains.”

“Your Majesty…”

“Breha, please.”

The other Jedi left with the Alderaan officials, already debating the best ways to participate in what would certainly be the best chance of peace, now that the Chancellor was dead and everybody would be quietly horrified to have been manipulated in such a way, horrified enough to give a real shot at negotiations, and Bail was left alone with Master Myr. He didn’t know exactly what to think about the latest events. He had opposed the Chancellor on so many laws, more and more, as Palpatine slowly accumulated more powers and encouraged more and more terrible legislation, but he never would have thought him an ancient evil with Force powers, ready to burn the galaxy down to possess it.

“I don’t know what to do right now,” Bail confessed to Master Myr.

“At this hour, I like to feed the birds in your biggest aviary,” the old Jedi said. “You have a very nice collection.”

“I was thinking more long term, but who am I to contradict the wisdom of the Jedi Order,” Bail joked, then he offered his arm. She didn’t walk very quickly and didn’t try conversation, letting Bail work on his thoughts. Soon, those thoughts were leaving surprise for irritation, as he understood better the chain of events that had put him there, on Alderaan, during the most important crisis of the last centuries of the Republic.

After a moment, he said:

“I must confess, Master Myr, when you accompanied us to Alderaan, I thought you were supposed to keep an eye on us. I was almost vexed, that Master Windu wasn’t sure of our House, but I had it backward, didn’t I? He didn’t think there would be danger, here, for the wounded Jedi, and send you to protect them. He thought the danger was on Coruscant, and he wanted you in safety, so he used me taking Obi-Wan and the other patients here as a pretext to send you too. He knew…he knew something would happen.”

She smiled sadly:

“He would have bundled up the entire Order and sent them with you, if he thought he had even a possibility to do it in secret. Since you are an allied planet, he could only send one adult Jedi in the company of our patients, and a Healer. He will feel guilty about his choice for years, the poor boy, but I am his Master, and even Jedi’s friends forget sometimes that we put more meaning in that word than other people. And what child wants his aging parent in harm’s way?”

“Was Obi-Wan really in danger?”

“Yes, he was. The numbers of attempts in his life, these last months… The Sith wanted him out of the way.”

“For what?”

“We’ll probably never know. The Dark One undoubtedly thought Obi-Wan was between him and something he wanted. Greed is the base of numerous Sith’s actions.”

She patted his arm with a cheerful smile:

“I don’t think Mace predicted Obi-Wan would take so well to Alderaan,” and Bail could have sworn he was as red as the sun at sunset.

“Master…”

“Don’t fret, my dear. After all, the time of diplomatic missions will come back for Jedi. Who knows which elected member of our Senate they will have to work with. Who knows how they will work on strengthening the Order’s bonds with our allies. Perhaps it’s time to put Jedi outposts on planets other than Coruscant, to let people remember who we are.”

Bail’s smile was quite too big for that important day, but she didn’t comment on it.

Together, they went to feed the birds.

[romana73]

STAR WARS WOMEN 2 PART

Post written by ME. The animated gifs shown, however, AREN’T MINE and it DON’T BELONG TO ME IN ANY WAY. Sorry for my mistakes, but English isn’t my first language

HERE IS FIRST PART of this post:

https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/182414735626/star-wars-women-1-part

“You’re wrong, Leia. You have that power too. In time you’ll learn to use it as I have. The Force is strong in my family. My father has it. I have it and…my sister has it. Yes. It’s you, Leia”

(Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, from “Star Wars Episode VI, Return of the Jedi” movie)

In this post we will get to talk about famous scandal stone, scene in which, in "Star Wars. Episode VIII. The Last Jedi" movie, floating in open space, Leia save herself using Force. Many are snapped, outraged, protesting Leia isn’t a Jedi and she hasn’t Force, so that scene should be redone and she die or be rescued by some errant knight (male, of course!) In fact, it would be enough to read quote reported to me at this post beginning, pronounced by LUKE SKYWALKER lived voice, in last chapter of original saga, CREATED AND DIRECTED BY GEORGE LUCAS, STAR WARS DAD, to blush and hide in some lost cave. In this post I'm going, however, in chronological order, so, before talking about Leia, I have to talk about ...

SOLO: A STAR WARS STORY:

QI'RA:

Orphan, thief, fighter, ambiguous and HAN SOLO’s first love, from which she’s separated as a young girl. Three years later, Qi'ra and Han find themselves in Alba Cremisi base, a criminal organization for which Beckett, Han's accomplice thief, is working. Han discovers Qi'ra is pupil and woman of DRYDEN VOS, organization boss, from which she was saved and trained. In end, Qi'ra will KILL DRYDEN in order to SAVE HAN, but then she LEFT HAN, also if SHE LOVE HIM, to JOIN DARTH MAUL, SITH at service of Emperor Palpatine:

VAL BECKETT:

Thief, Tobias Beckett’s wife, strong, disillusioned, rude, actually she’s really in love with Tobias, till she will sacrifice herself:

ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY

JYN ERSO:

Daughter of Galen Erso, a scientist forced by Empire to create deadly Death Star. Jyn is forced by her father to flee away, just before Imperials take him. Jyn grew up with extremist rebel Saw Gerrera. When she becomes adult, Jyn is imprisoned by imperial, but she’s freed from Resistance who enlist her for a mission: to prevent Death Star from completing. At cost of her life, Jyn will steal weapon's plans, which shows weak point of Death Star, managing to get them to have the Princess LEIA ORGANA, REBEL ALLIANCE LEADER, so Rebels can destroy weapon:

"Star Wars. Episode IV. A New Hope","Star Wars. Episode V. Empire Strikes In Back","Star Wars. Episode VI. The Return of the Jedi":

LEIA ORGANA:

Daughter of jedi ANAKIN SKYWALKER and PADME' AMIDALA, senator and FOUNDER REBEL ALLIANCE. LUKE SKYWALKER’S SISTER TWIN, adopted daughter of BAIL ORGANA, Prince of Alderaan and Senator and Queen Breha Antilles. HAN SOLO’s wife and MOTHER of BEN SOLO, then became KYLO REN. Senator, RESISTANCE’S LEADER AND GENERAL, excellent fighter, especially with blaster, Leia is one who will put wheel of fate in motion, hiding in droid R2D2, plans stolen by Jyn Erso about Death Star and a help message for Jedi OBI - WAN KENOBI

Captured and tortured by LORD VADER, she will amaze him for her HIGH MENTAL RESISTANCE: "Her resistance to the mind probe is considerable. Can be extract from any information” (Darth Vader about Leia Organa, from the movie "Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope") Leia will only surrender when Vader and Governor Tarkin destroy Alderaan, her home planet, in front her eyes

Leia will be freed by Luke Skywalker, Han Solo and Obi - Wan Kenobi. Three years later, Leia is one of REBELE ALLIANCE’S COMMANDERS and participates to evacuation on Hoth planet. ‘Cause of Lando Calrissian’s betrayal, she, Han and Chewbecca, will be CAPTURED and IMPRISONED by Darth Vader, who will torture and freeze Han into the carbonite. Successfully escaping with Lando and Chewbacca, later, Leia receives LUKE’S MENTAL CALL, to whom Darth Vader has cut a hand and runs to save him: "Ben... Ben, please! Ben. Leia! Hear me! Leia!" "Luke... we’ve got to go back" "What?" "I know where Luke is" (Luke, Leia and Lando, from "Star Wars Episode V. Empire Strikes Again" movie)

Six months later, disguised as a bounty hunter, Leia manages to enter Jabba The Hutt’s den, where Han is still frozen in carbonite. Leia manages to free Han from freezing. Unfortunately, their escape is discovered and Jabba closes Han in cell, keeping Leia as his slave. Luke and Rebel Alliance are coming to couple rescue. During battle, LEIA KILLS JABBA THE HUTT, throttling him using chain with which she was tied:

Later, before his death, Master Yoda reveals to Luke EXIST ANOTHER SKYWALKER: "Pass on what you have learned, Luke... there is...another...Sky...Sky...walker." (Master Yoda to Luke Skywalker, from the movie "Star Wars Episode VI, Return of the Jedi") Intrigued, Luke asks for explanations to Obi - Wan Kenobi ghost, who reveals truth to him: Leia is his TWIN SISTER. She’s THE OTHER SKYWALKER Yoda was talking about:

“The other he spoke of is your twin sister”

“But I have no sister”

”Mm. To protect you both from the Emperor, you were hidden from your father when you were born. The Emperor knew, as I did. If Anakin were to have any offspring, they would be a threat to him. That is the reason why your sister remains safely anonymous”

“Leia. Leia’s my sister”

“Your insight serves you well. Bury your feelings deep down, Luke. They do you credit, but they could be made to serve the Emperor.”

(Luke Skywalker and Obi - Wan Kenobi, from "Star Wars Episode VI, Return of the Jedi” movie)

Meanwhile, led by Leia, Han and Luke, a rebels contingent on Endor to deactivate a shield prevents their fleet from attacking Death Star. In a moment of tranquility, Luke reveals to Leia that Darth Vader is their father, they are twins and SHE HAVE THE FORCE: "[...] And that's not all. It will not be easy for you to listen to it, but you must do it: if I do not survive, only you can save the Covenant " "Luke do not talk like that: you have absolutely exceptional powers that I do not have at all" "You're wrong, Leila: you have those powers too. Over time, you too will learn how to use them. Force flows in my family. In my father... in me...and in... my sister also... yes... it's you, Leila" "I know. It's as if... If I had always known " (Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, from the movie "Star Wars Episode VI, Return of the Jedi")

From that moment, Leia uses the Force to instinct. Looking inside her, Leia manages to PERCEIVE Luke is alive: “I'm sure Luke wasn't on that thing when it blew”

“He wasn't. I can feel it” (Han Solo and Leia Organa, from "Star Wars Episode VI, Return of the Jedi" movie)

Leia is ONLY WOMAN TO PARTICIPATE in person at Endor BATTLE

Given all this, it seems to me supported by TESTS AND EVIDENTS, SUPPLIED BY OLD SAGA, Leia HAS FORCE and it’s UNDERSTANDING, over time, Luke has taught Leia to use it. At this point, Rian Johnson and J.J. Abrams SHOULDN’T RECTIFY and CORRECT NOTHING to "Star Wars. Episode VIII. The latest Jedi" movie, ‘cause Leia has every right to use Force and call Luke through that:

Special Mention for MON MOTHMA: Human woman, senator of Galactic Senate and Imperial Senate, LEADER of Alliance for the Restoration of the Republic and first CANCELLER of New Republic. Faithful friend of Padme Amidala, Mothma was a POLITICAL MENTOR of Princess/General LEIA ORGANA. Always Mothma instructs JYN ERSO to find information about Death Star:

[graciecatfamilyband]

Leia, Princess of Alderaaan Review*

*Really just a mixture of my thoughts/impressions/feelings. Way too long. 

Note: So, after almost a year of “defending” certain choices made in Leia, Princess of Alderaan by Claudia Gray, I decided to actually read the darn thing. It might surprise people to hear I hadn’t yet, since in some ways I was a very vocal “supporter.” The truth is, I usually don’t enjoy Star Wars books very much, and prefer whatever I or my fellow fans make up instead, so I was never particularly interested. When the “controversy” hit, I never “defended” it out of any attachment to the book or its author, but out of a belief that most of the storytelling choices that were decried as out-of-character were actually legitimate possibilities for Leia’s history either in this book or in fanfiction stories, regardless of whether or not they were a part of anyone’s personal canon. It was entirely possible that LPOA itself was out-of-character trash. Based on the excerpts and summaries and spoilers I’d read to engage with the criticisms of it, it did not seem to me that it was- but I hadn’t read it, so I couldn’t definitively say. If it were trash, though, the fact that Leia speaks to people her own age or had a boyfriend (also her own age) weren’t to me among the reasons why. And that in particular is what I was so vocal about.  

Finally, however, I figured if I was gonna go down in fandom history as one of the people who “supported” LPOA, I might as well actually read it and find out whether or not I actually liked it.

I’m so glad I did. I liked it *immensely.* Far beyond what I would have thought.

Here’s the TL;DR version, and then I’ll post a more detailed gushing review under the cut. Spoilers included. 

1. It is as much a political thriller as it was a coming of age novel. Which is exactly my jam. 🙏🏻 I knew every major plot point going into it, and it still somehow left me dying to know what would happen next. Sure, it’s written at a “young adult” level so it’s not incredibly “advanced” as a “political thriller” goes- but it got the job done much better than I thought it could have. (And for a YA political thriller, I think it is actually incredibly advanced.) I had SO MUCH FUN reading it. SO MUCH. 

2. It was practically perfect as a “prequel”. It managed to do its own thing without “stepping“ on the original trilogy at all. The backstory for Leia is good, plausible, in-character, and manages to allow her to grow (essential for a coming-of-age novel) while leaving tons of room for the character growth we see in the OT. It inevitably won’t be everyone’s personal backstory for Leia, and that’s okay. But I couldn’t find anything that wasn’t a legitimate, sensible possibility. 

3. It captured this stage of Leia’s development so well, which it turns out is something that’s really important to me. 

Leia was to me the perfect balance of intelligent/well-educated/innovative/tenacious and still learning the ropes as a political player. Navigating a tyrannical government and wrestling with how to respond in a way that is likely to be effective is something almost every character in this book wrestles with (save characters like Tarkin), and Leia engages with it on a level that is sophisticated even though it’s also age-appropriate. I knew a couple more things than the Leia of this book, but that’s understandable- I am much older than she is in this book, and if she knew everything already, there would be no development, no story, and indeed, there would have been no childhood for her. She is coming out of childhood in this book and learning as much as she can, and it’s just so…. appropriate, believable, wonderful. And she’s no fool; she knows a LOT, she was well and duly educated in her childhood, and she pieces together things very quickly. (I must say, she’s also much braver and more ballsy than I, which is also in-character.) 

I also loved the way the book handled the changing attachment/relationship to one’s parents and the anxiety and distress that comes with that (especially when one has had a close relationship to one’s parents) in adolescence. I loved how that resolves as both the young adult and their parents learn to have a new, more adult-to-adult relationship. (It also fit my headcanon of the Organas being a loving and close-knit family, which I deeply enjoyed.) 

I love how the book allowed Leia to start building much closer relationships with same-age peers, and that this was both a part of her learning to separate from her parents and define herself (not to become the same as any of her peers but to learn from them and accept certain ideas and reject others) as well as a part of her laying the foundations for the coming civil war (after all, they are going to need as many allies as they can get). 

This is probably my favorite thing about it, because I am a nerd interested in and care about adolescent development. I don’t think I’ve ever read a Star Wars book that cared as much about character, character development and growth, and psychological motivations, which is why I enjoyed it so thoroughly, especially as compared to other SW books.

5. I could not recommend it more highly. 

Spoiler-y unnecessary ramblings under the cut. 

More Things I Loved About It 

Leia loves storms. YAS.

We get to see Leia spearheading her first (legitimate) diplomatic missions!!!! And doing things on her own for the first time as an Apprentice Legislator (rather than simply as her father’s intern)!!!! And learning to exercise leadership with people who’ve known her since she was a kid! And fucking up in very understandable ways- ways that don’t infantalize her, but are normal for a young politician learning to navigate her way through this political terrain with limited information, and sometimes in ways that still trip up seasoned politicians because they are literally traps laid by the Empire. We need to see Leia make mistakes in a book like this / in any story of her adolescence, and to learn from them- and they need to be mistakes that don’t take away from her overall competence or character. This book does that very well. 

I loved reading about the ways Leia attempted to learn all her parents knew and to help them in their respective positions throughout her childhood. I love that Leia interned for her dad for several years in the Imperial Senate by this point! 😍😍😍 And all the little “her dad always told her”, “her mom always said” moments in this book are just beautiful and very in-character for both Bail and Breha. I love that as Princess of Alderaan and as a member of the Organa family, Leia has always looked to them for guidance on how to rule, who to be, what skills she needs, etc. and worked hard at those things. That all seemed very in-character to me. 

I love the familial and parent relationships, period. I’ve already said how much I adored the way this book represented the push-pull of the parent-adolescent relationship, and how much I love that this book nevertheless gives her loving familial relationships as her foundation. It was so wonderful to read these little moments of the Organa family, both when they were struggling and when they were finding more common ground. These relationships were also very “3D” to me, human, what I personally would “ideally” want for Leia without being “too” ideal or unreal. I didn’t know how much I needed to ready more of the Organa family all together until I read this book.

I love that this book was able to make me angry at Bail Organa (my bae 💚)- sometimes quite repeatedly- without making him out-of-character or an ass; that’s not easy to do. It was clear he had his own character struggle work through, and as difficult as that was for me as a Bail fan, it seemed in-character to me, came from a place of deep love, added layers to him, and made the intimate moments between him and Leia and the resolution between them that much more satisfying. 

Breha Organa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💜🙏🏻😍🙌🏻👑🙌🏻😍🙏🏻💛💜 What a queen, what a leader, what a mother. I loved watching her differ in her opinions from Bail, and handling some of the differences between them including how to approach the Rebellion, and their daughter. I found it interesting and unexpected that she accepted the reality that the Rebellion would eventually mean civil war sooner than Bail did, but in a way that worked very well.  

Bail and Breha’s marriage. It’s so wonderful that they have such a beautiful partnership, in which they can wrestle with difficult questions, and disagree, and even need space from each other, and yet always come back to each other and support each other in their endeavors (and enjoy a bit of romance too). It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted and headcanoned between them. 

I thought it might be distracting to me that Bail and Breha and Alderaan might vary in small ways from the ways that I have headcanoned them. For example, the pulmonodes thing is kind of aesthetically cool, and it is nice to see someone in the GFFA with some robotic/mechanical parts who is described as the opposite of evil/ the embodiment of warmth, but is a major departure from how I’ve seen Breha for years, and that kind of thing is always a struggle for me. But it turns out it’s much more difficult for me to engage with when it’s an abstract post on Tumblr. In the book, it didn’t bother me almost at all? It was subtly and well-integrated, and the character was so well-done, that it didn’t matter that’s not how I had seen Breha and is not (as of now) part of my personal headcanon. 

 Candlewick flowers 🕯🌹 are such a gorgeous addition to the GFFA.

I think it’s great that there was a process for Leia declaring her intention to pursue the throne and at minimum a very challenging ceremonial way she had to earn it, even if it’s not the way I would have chosen. 

I’m going to go ahead and say on Alderaan they have basic guaranteed income. 👌🏻

It was so good to see the Captain Antilles of the Tantive IV and spend time on Alderaan itself (sad as it is too 😪). Like so many of the characters, I liked him and I’m incredibly sorry he’s dead within the first few minutes of ANH.

Lieutenant Res Batton is a treasure. 

Queen Dalné of Naboo is a character I’d actually love to see appear in later stories (including fics) that occur during the OT or afterward. Do she and Leia meet again? In what context? What is that like??? Although her reign has probably ended by then, Dalné help with the Rebellion in any way or with the rebuilding that comes after the Empire’s fall? I like the way they connected in this book, and I’d love for her and Leia to become friends. 

I had mixed feelings about Amilyn Holdo, but I appreciate that the inclusion of a female character who could be a peer to Leia and that she ultimately ended up being an important and foundational relationship both personally and “professionally.” @otterandterrier summed the good qualities of her character up to me nicely, saying, “I do appreciate [Amilyn] becomes closer to Leia, is a person who will inform her to not be set on her first impressions of people, and by TLJ is a long-time friend her age, rather than thinking all her childhood friends died.” Agreed. 

Mon Mothma 😍 🙌🏻. This book cemented Mon as a new fave of mine. Great to see her be such a positive and wise mentor to Leia, and to see her be able to see things that her parents (especially Bail) cannot yet. 

The cameos worked beautifully without being “too much.” Threepio’s was excellent, but Artoo’s was even better. Also, I was incredibly skeptical at the fact that there was a Millennium Falcon cameo, but it worked just perfectly. They succeeded at making the reader feel clever and “in on” it, which is 👌🏻. 

Thank the Alderaanian goddess that the romance was a side-plot and not the focus! 🙌🏻 It was great to see Leia have a book that allowed her to have so many different sides, and that her romance was one of those sides but not the exclusive or even the most important focus. The book could have survived without it, but Leia’s relationship seemed to me to add to the narrative rather than take away from it. 

It was such a great first romance, from a writing and story-telling standpoint. It absolutely did not threaten to overshadow the major romance of Leia’s life that most readers are so invested in, which is essential in a prequel story like this, but it was also a good experience for Leia even if it ended so sadly. I really like that the relationship was good and meaningful at the time, but it was also clearly not a relationship with longevity. This post on why Kier works so well as first love is a very good one. I also just really genuinely liked Kier as a character, even if ultimately I disagreed with him and of course don’t want him to end up with Leia “forever.” 

The Chalhuddan storyline was 😍😍😍. I loved that they insist that Leia require something of them before accepting her mercy mission donation and calling out her “wealthy saviorism.” I love that she exercises good diplomatic judgment in how she handles that, and that it ultimately turns into the beginning of a potentially lasting political alliance between her and them. Again, I just love the political elements of this book in general, and this was 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻. I’d love to see them again in fic or wherever. 

I had a list of things that I did not like. I’ve already spoken about some of these in other posts. But honestly, this book gets so much vitriol hurled at it, and I loved it so much, that I just don’t want to include those things at this time. 

[notbecauseofvictories]

How does Bail Organa deal with being dad to an angry baby quarter-eldritch-abomination?

“Well,” Breha began, and then stopped. She was sitting very straight and regal in her chair, the way she only did when her mind was a hundred parsecs away and moving at lightspeed.

Bail had always been amused by that, how his wife looked more attentive and composed when not paying attention to what was going on around her. But she’d told him all about her parade of different tutors, etiquette and comportment and a hundred things a merchant’s son had no need of knowing. He supposed a lifetime of preparing to be Queen of Alderaan gave one all hells of muscle memory.

“Yes,” Bail sighed. He crossed the room to the sideboard, where someone had very considerately refilled the decanter. “Drink?”

“Yes,” Breha said absently. “Something with a great deal of alcohol in it, I think.”

Bail snorted. She was clearly not as distracted as he assumed.

Evening had fallen over the Capital, painting everything in blue shadows. This early in the year, everything was snow and ice, even the broad main streets. A convenient enough excuse, when the Datu’s son—tripped and…slid accidentally into a wall, bloodying his nose, ears, mouth. And when the Princesa of Aldera, Leia Organa, bared her teeth at the Datu’s son’s and snarled, You are a cruel and heartless boy—

Well. The cold had been convenient for that too. You know these long winter months, Bail had said, forcing warmth into his voice, because the Datu was looking to him in confusion and thinly-veiled horror, clutching at his son even as blood streamed down the boy’s face. Everyone goes a little stir-crazy.

Bail sat down across from Breha, setting down her glass of cognac. She reached for it, but he couldn’t be sure whether she knew it—her eyes were faraway, and her spine was very straight. Bail was used to this, being the third or fourth thing on her mind; he didn’t mind being patient, waiting for her to circle back to them, their daughter.

“When you—” Breha fell silent, running her finger lightly along the rim of the glass. Bail sipped his liquor, composing a list of necessary munitions for the Rebellion in his head, waiting for her to continue. 

“When you told me that it was safer not to openly discuss our daughter’s origins, I assumed that was because Padmé had somehow made an enemy of the Emperor. A miscalculation that perhaps also led to her death. But that is not the only reason, is it?”

Bail sighed, setting his glass down. “No.”

“The Jedi, the handsome one I met at the—”

“Yes.”

“Ah,” Breha said. Her eyes were still far off, unfocused. “I see. And the edict that was issued, calling for the death of all affiliated with the Jedi Order?”

“Yes. It also remains in effect for any…future Jedi that might arise.”

Bail straightened up when Breha’s gaze flickered, and met his. He smiled bitterly, tipping his glass to her as thought calling a toast. “You see my conundrum,” he said, not bothering to keep the irony from his voice.

“You said Obi-Wan escaped the destruction of the temple,” Breha said slowly. “He could—instruct her, teach her to contain it. At least enough so we don’t have further incidents like today’s.”

“We would be putting ourselves and all of Alderaan at risk. The Emperor’s enforcer, Darth Vader, is said to have a special hatred for him—I think they fought on another in the wars.”

Breha nodded, and Bail watched as she lifted the glass to her mouth, swallowed. She was a lovely creature, his wife, with a fearsome sort of mind; he liked to  watch her as it ticked over unerringly as any other piece of machinery. 

“Do you have a way to contact him more discreetly?” she finally asked. 

“Not—at the moment, but I know where he is. I’m sure I can come up with something. Why do you ask?”

Breha smiled triumphantly. There was a glint in her eye. “If you and I are going to raise a Jedi, husband, we’re going to need some guidance on the subject.”

.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Obi-Wan said, gazing in thinly-veiled horror at Bail. Bail had no idea why Obi-Wan had chosen Tatooine—other than the fact that it was possibly the furthest from the center of the galaxy you could get without going off the edge of a regulation star map. Bail supposed it was beautiful, in a sere, barren sort of way, though he personally didn’t enjoy the implicit promise of death that seemed to linger like a miasma over the sand. Bail had slept badly the night before, listening to some unknown thing screaming in the dark. 

Then again, if Kenobi truly was trying to stay off the Empire’s radar and away from Darth Vader’s wrath, no one would ever think to look here.

Bail squinted into late-afternoon sunlight. Officially, he was travelling through the Outer Rim as part of an outreach initiative by the Senate. Unofficially, he knew that most of his fellow senators believed he was visiting a mistress—more than one of them had congratulated him on slipping the grip of his formidable royal wife. (When Bail told Breha this, she’d mostly been flattered by the implication that if Bail wanted a mistress, he’d have to stash them all the way in the Outer Rim to avoid her.)

Actually, Bail was sitting beside Obi-Wan Kenobi outside a wattled hut, watching the sun set over the mesas and graciously pretending to drink the awful tea Obi-Wan had made for him. 

“Why not?”

Obi-Wan blinked. “The art of being a Jedi is complex and ancient—there are arcane secrets—it’s just not advisable,” he spluttered.

Bail huffed. “That is hardly a convincing argument.”

“Neither you nor Breha are Force-sensitive; you won’t even be able to tell if she’s doing it correctly. This is like a fish blithely announcing he plans to teach a starbird how to fly!”

“Well, give me the introductory level. Or whichever level involves teaching young Jedi not to assault people with the Force.”

Obi-Wan froze, his hand spasming around his own mug of tea. “Leia hurt someone?” he breathed, his face going shadowed and haunted. Bail frowned.

“Another boy; she was angry, and she choked him, bloodied his nose. The incident was embarrassing and—suspicious, if we’re trying to keep her existence a secret, but minor. We’re just worried, you needn’t look like someone has died.”

Obi-Wan shut his eyes as though pained, and a shudder ran through his whole body until he was almost doubled-over. “Obi-Wan?” Bail asked. “Are you—”

“You have a datapad?” Obi-Wan mumbled. Bail blinked.

“Yes.”

“Take notes.” Obi-Wan didn’t wait, and Bail scrambled to dig through his pack and grab the datapad and stylus before he got too far. “The first lesson any Jedi must learn—”

.

The first five lessons were a nightmare. 

“That was my great-grandmother’s favorite dining table,” Breha said mournfully as she and Bail watched the charred hunks of wood carried from the room. “It was a gift from one of the Queens of Naboo, in honor of the jubilee celebration of her reign.”

“We can ask Queen Raina for another one,” Bail offered. The guards bowed, and shut the doors behind them, such that it was just Bail and Breha alone in the study.

He could hear Leia’s sobbing from the next room. They hadn’t meant to scare her, or yell as much as they had, but it had been terrifying, a little girl with fire all around her and a look of unnatural peace on her face. Bail sighed. “This isn’t working.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Our daughter managed to somehow summon lightning from her hands, that seems like some sort of progress.”

Bail snorted. “In the wrong direction, I think. She’s supposed to learn restraint, not….I’m afraid she’s sliding further away, she’s losing control. Obi-Wan told me that many of the Sith were Jedi, once.”

“We cannot keep running to him,” Breha said with a sigh, leaning against the doorframe in a rare show of weariness. Bail realized with a start that there were lines, bracketing around her mouth, that had not been there only a few years before. “The Security Council has begun discussing a military installation on Alderaan, I will need to use every weapon in my arsenal to keep those—stormtroopers,” she ground out icily, “from our world. If there is even a hint—”

“What about Jedha?” Bail said, and Breha blinked. Then her expression transformed into something thoughtful, considering.

“I thought the temple there was destroyed.”

“It was. But the worshipers still come. And the Jedi Order was only one of the sects that revered the Force, at this point we may be safer to look outside the Core for aid.”

“Someone discreet,” Breha said, finally.

“Of course.”

“Someone—patient. And not afraid. I will not allow our daughter to grow up with her teacher fearing what she can do.”

“Of course not.”

Bail crossed the room to her, and with an indulgent smile, Breha allowed herself to be crowded against the wall, fitted herself into his arms; her hands finding the small of his back with familiar ease. Bail had been away too long; her hair smelled different, something floral that made his nose itch. “Do you ever wish I had brought you a simpler daughter?” he murmured, and he could feel her laugh.

“There are no easy children,” Breha murmured. “I would rather simply love ours. Now bring her someone who will teach her how not to burn the galaxy down around her.”

Privately, Bail doubted there existed anyone who would make Leia Organa less incendiary—but at least they could make it less literal.

.

(“Everyone says of all the Guardians of the Whills, you are the most learned, and faithful. You remember the old ways,” Bail said.

“I sympathize with your plight,” Chirrut Îmwe said, setting his own teacup down. Malbus, standing in the doorway and casting a long shadow, grunted; a smile flickered across Chirrut’s mouth in response. “But as long as there are pilgrims to the Holy City, we must stay, and defend her.”

Bail exhaled, and thought of shining Aldera, in the mountains, where the air was thin and cold and bright. Where his daughter could make the air burn, and his wife ruled the world. “I understand,” he said. “Thank you for your time.”)

.

Later—much later, when neither Jedha or Alderaan could be defended any more, and Obi-Wan was nothing more than another nexus of brightness in the Force—Leia was watching her brother.

“I remember this,” she said suddenly.

“What?” Luke asked, cracking open an eye. “Do you mean remember, or—remember, like our mother?”

“We have to come up with a better term for that,” Leia sighed. “And no, I actually remember this,” she added. “One of my tutors, Mistress Draight. We used to do breathing exercises and control exercises, and…I always just thought it was mindfulness. I had a lot of tutors,” she said with a shrug.

“You had Jedi lessons?” Luke asked, opening his eyes fully and uncurling from his cross-legged meditation pose.

“I didn’t think they were Jedi lessons. No one ever said the word ‘Jedi’ and we never moved anything with the Force, or discussed lightsabers. It was just supposed to be calming. A way of establishing control.”

“Huh,” Luke said. “Did it help?”

“I—think so? My mother used to joke about the time I set my great great-grandmother’s table on fire, but I always assumed it was because my sleeve caught on the candle,“ she mused.

Luke laughed, hooking his hand in the loose fabric of her dress and pulling her forward until his legs were tangled hers. “Okay,” he said, touching his forehead to hers. “Show me what you got.”

Leia grinned.

[jacensolodjo]

Pairing: Jacen Solo/Tenel Ka

Characters: Jacen Solo, Tenel Ka, Allana Solo-Djo

Warning: none

Genre: General

Summary: Slice of life stuff. Domestic fluff.

Notes: Modern!AU and thus no Force but everything else. Allana is a toddler. Tenel Ka lost her arm in a childhood accident involving a tree. Tenel Ka and Leia work together as senators. Han owns a chain of repair and car modification as well as private plane maintenance shops and sometimes still does things hands on. Jaina is a test pilot with the Air Force. Jacen was given an honorable medical discharge from the same branch due to PTSD. Anakin Solo lives but needs 24 hour care and medications because of being blown up by a car bomb that was meant for Jacen and Tenel Ka. The Organas are alive but retired from public service.

Politics had always made his head spin trying to keep up with it all. He understood them, he knew how to play the game, he just didn’t like to. But he was all too happy to let everyone else around him play it. 

At least up until the point where everyone was busy on the phone and schedules were made six months in advance. 

Jacen did the bare minimum of appearances and sometimes wished he had the same excuse his twin did-- can’t, doing a test flight of a new plane. What excuse did he have? Can’t, writing another book on philosophy and how to apply it to warfare and life in general.

He didn’t know how his dad did it, frankly. But then, his dad sometimes hid in his garage when it got too much. 

At the moment, though, Jacen was chasing after a child with the same red hair as his wife’s. It seemed Allana was determined it wasn’t nap time yet, it was still play time. 

“Allana, sweetie, if you don’t take a nap now you’ll be too sleepy when mommy comes home from her trip!” Along with his own mother, matter of fact. He had been alone with Allana for the past week. He didn’t mind it, and in fact he knew Tenel Ka was going to point out Allana was her father’s daughter when it came to stubbornness. 

“You take a nap!” Allana responded without slowing. 

Jacen took a short cut and seemed to appear right in the girl’s path. She squealed in surprise then laughter when he scooped her up and spun her around.

“Got you, munchkin! Now let’s go get a nap!” 

“No nap, daddy! Stay up for mommy!” 

“Sorry, kiddo. You know the rules. If mommy is coming home from a trip and will be here after the little hand is on the three and big hand on the twelve, you have to take a nap after lunch.” 

Allana pouted up at him but quieted down as he wandered back to her bedroom and put her down for her nap. 

Tenel Ka arrived home an hour later. Jacen could only kiss her cheek in greeting given she was still on the phone, finalizing something else or another. He didn’t keep track. He had learned better after growing up with his mother, a career politician since even before he and his twin were fetuses. 

So instead he waited patiently for Tenel Ka to hang up then grinned when she finally did. 

“You appear to have survived the week,” Tenel Ka said. They had been together long enough that Jacen’s specific brand of humor had rubbed off a bit on the woman. And they both knew if Jacen had needed help he could ask his grandparents.

He kissed her a little more passionately in greeting now that she was off the phone.

“Ah, it was nothing. Allana isn’t as much of a handful as people think,” he said when they broke apart. 

They had decided a long time ago they wouldn’t use nannies or au pairs. The twins and Anakin had had a nanny but Leia and Han had both made sure they didn’t have 24 hour ones and took care of the Solo children nights and weekends. If Jacen and Tenel Ka wanted to go somewhere without their daughter, Bail and Breha would watch her if Leia and Han were unavailable.

Tenel Ka silently pointed at a juice stain splashed across the hem of Jacen’s henley shirt. It wasn't uncommon for him to have stains on his clothes, mainly when he wasn't paying attention to what he was eating and drinking while reading or writing.

“She got in a lucky shot with a juice box,” Jacen explained, blushing a little. “I didn’t... have time to change.” 

She gave a noise that meant she couldn't help but believe that, knowing the type of person Jacen was and the type of toddler that Allana was.

"Mama?" Allana's small voice broke in.

"There's my daughter! Did you have a good nap?" Tenel Ka said as she scooped Allana up into a one-armed hug. 

“That is a fact!” Allana chirped happily with a big smile. Jacen ruffled the girl's hair, laughing. Tenel Ka couldn’t help laughing too, knowing exactly where her daughter got that from. 

Tenel Ka's phone rang, causing Allana to pout.

"It'll go to voicemail in a second. Can't possibly be an emergency only I can help with," Tenel Ka said, giving a long suffering look at Jacen. He shrugged before going out the door to bring in his wife's luggage to give Tenel Ka time alone with Allana to catch up. He was just stepping down from the porch when Allana launched into a blow by blow replay of everything she had done while her mother was gone.

Crystal, the mixed breed rescue turned therapy dog, trotted out after him a moment later and then followed him back inside. 

He put the luggage in the main bedroom and then it was time to have dinner as a family for the first time in a month. 

His family was always on the move but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lajulie24]

Han/Leia, how they tend to celebrate their birthdays?

This seems to be a very timely ask, seeing as it comes on a week with a lot of birthdays in the HanLeia fandom. (Happy birthday to all our November babies!) Hopefully I can do it justice.

Growing up as a princess on Alderaan, Leia’s birthday had always been something of a public celebration as well as a private one; in fact, many years they did the family celebration the day before so that she could have a day that was just about her. After the Death Star, she didn’t really want to celebrate it…except that all the Alderaanians knew when it was, so she couldn’t really avoid it. And when it came out that Leia’s birthday was the same as Luke’s, basically Luke’s celebration got extended to hers. But it always felt weird because it made her miss her family even more.

Han knew when his birthday was, but hadn’t celebrated it in years. Chewie knew when it was, and respected his wishes to keep it low key, but always made a point to mark the day in some way, because Life Days are important. (Chewie’s pretty wise.)

There’s something about going through the horrors of Bespin, and Jabba’s, and the rest of the war, that makes both Han and Leia shift their thinking about birthdays. There’s almost a switch that goes off in Leia, that she’s tired of just existing and if she ever gets out of this mess, she vows at Jabba’s, she is sure as hell going to live. She has a similar thought on Endor when things look really bleak.

So on hers and Luke’s next birthday, they do it up right, as Han would say. A little private family dinner, and then something of a blowout with their other friends, and at some point in the evening Han and Leia slip out for a little private celebrating, like you do.

And Han kind of catches the fever, too, and for the first time in years, he lets the Skywalker/Organa twins throw him a party for his birthday. Chewie does the cooking (neither of the twins are particularly skilled in the kitchen), but there’s whiskey, and card playing, and cake, and a lovely princess dragging him away later on for a private celebration.

And there are solemn bits to their celebration, too, and sometimes Leia takes a page from her previous life and does something to honor her family the day before her actual birthday. Han takes her to the Graveyard one year, which you think would be morbid but actually kind of…makes her feel happy to be close to her parents again. And Han actually talks about his mother for the first time since some of their talks on the way to Bespin. One year, after she and Luke learn more about Padmé Amidala, they go to Naboo and bring flowers to her memorial, which actually reminds Leia of Bail and Breha (who often did a similar observance in honor of Leia’s birth mother, although they didn’t tell Leia who she was).

That got a little more serious than I’d planned, but…thank you for the ask!

[sl-walker]

"So never forget that you have been blessed with the best wife." (referring to Bail / Breha but any take you want on it in any of your 'verses)

Bail knew his father had lovers. He had understood that from around the age of eight; that sometimes, arranged marriages were not the kind built on love, but on necessity or gain or alliance. His mother and father were kind to one another, and they were friends, but they were never in love. They had four children together, but aside to conceive, they slept in separate beds.

Bail didn’t know if his mother had lovers; if she did, she was exceptionally discreet about it. But then, she was the matriarch and Alderaan had taken a distinct turn towards being more matriarchal after the Civil War. She was held to a different standard than her husband, whether that was fair or not.

Bail had always assumed that he was going to end up much the same. Married for political reasons, rather than love. So when the Acendency Contention resulted in a marriage promise between House Organa and House Antilles, he couldn’t say he was surprised. He didn’t have any current lovers when it had happened, so while he was plenty nervous about meeting his future wife, he also was willing to see what happened.

“Well, it could be worse,” she had said when he stepped off the shuttle at the river port to meet her, looking him up and down, voice dry and good-humored. Bail had laughed, surprised, looking down over his casual clothes and when he looked up and she grinned at him, his heart jumped, sped up and-- that was it.

Just like that.

“Thanks, I think,” he said back, breathless and still smiling so wide his face hurt from it, as he took her offered hand and kissed her knuckles. “Wow. Okay, hi. I’m Bail, your, uh-- future husband, who is apparently not the worst.”

It was Breha’s turn to laugh, and she did. “That’s good to know. Otherwise, this would have become very awkward, very quickly.” She took her hand back, smile softening a little bit as she looked up at him. “Hi, Bail. I’m Breha, your future wife. Feel like having a cup of caf with me?”

“I’d love to,” Bail answered, and meant it entirely.

Despite all of the Alderaanian romantic poetry he had been exposed to thanks to having a sister who majored in Literature, Bail hadn’t honestly believed in such a thing as love-at-first-sight. It was a sweet concept, but it didn’t seem realistic. How could anyone fall for someone just on one meeting?

Boy, was he proven wrong.

Breha was-- beautiful. In her casual clothes, her black hair plaited over a shoulder with a winding seafoam colored ribbon, her bangs wind-blown, she walked with a dancer’s grace. She tucked a hand in the crook of Bail’s arm and walked with him like she had been doing so all of her life, and he kept stealing glances at her, even after he tripped on a bowed part of the stone walk they were on.

But even more than her physical beauty, there was her laugh. She had a vaguely smokey voice -- he wasn’t surprised weeks later when he learned that she used to sing in taverns during her first couple of years as a student teacher, both for some extra credits and also just for the pleasure of it -- and when she laughed, she’d let her head fall back, eyes closed, clinging to Bail’s arm and just-- letting herself give into it. None of the polite, quiet laughter of a politician or noblewoman, but the joyful belly laugh of someone who knew the value of such things.

She was sharp, too. Clever. Bail walked into a couple of different traps, only to have her sense of humor spring closed on him unexpectedly, leaving him laughing himself breathless. More seriously, she had formed opinions on a wide range of political and social issues, and they almost on the whole lined up with Bail’s, though even when they didn’t, she could present her point of view in such a way that he could understand it, even if he didn’t entirely agree.

And she was tough. Bail sat listening with his chin on the heel of his hand as she recounted what she had been doing before being called back to Alderaan, raptly fascinated as she described the situations she had not only lived through, but helped other people through.

Bail was so hooked by the time they parted ways for the night that he didn’t even feel the fact that he had been out hours after he had planned on being home. It was only a few hours before dawn when he finally made it in the door, and he still sat up just-- thinking it all over, unsteady and still-breathless and hopelessly, hopefully, strangely, wildly in love.

And Bail never stopped loving her.

Not when he traced the scars she picked up on worlds where there was no bacta to erase them. Not when they got into a stiff argument for the first time about an issue they both felt passionately about. Not when she ascended to the throne and time became precious for them both. Not when he became Senator, succeeding her uncle, and moved to Coruscant.

Not when she miscarried. Not when it happened again, and again, and again.

And again.

By then, he hated himself plenty, but he never, ever stopped loving her.

It really might have been the only reason that he never went over that final ledge; that fact that he loved her. And that despite his flaws, she loved him back.

"I’m lucky to have you, Dove,” he said, one late night when their conversation had tapered, nothing but a pair of blue ghosts to one another, so far away.

He didn’t need to see her in detail to see the sorrow in her eyes when he could hear it in her voice as she answered, “Oh, Bail. Luck had nothing to do with it, dear-heart.”

He wished then that he could believe that.

Some of it must have been in his mind, buried deep and covered like a grave, when he demanded Master Obi-Wan Kenobi take him to Zigoola only a couple of months later.

[shadowsong26fic]

Another Random AU Because Why Not

A couple months ago, I outlined a Heralds of Valdemar crossover/fusion/AU (which I’ve done some more Pondering on since then because it’s fun/hilarious). And then I did the Rabbit Hole AU, which was even more hilarious/fun.

Anyway, now that I’ve plugged my previous crack AUs, as you do, I have decided to outline another one! And for Reasons, it’s #10 on my List of Things I’ll Never Actually Write.

::ahem::

Without further ado, I present to you: Bail Organa Unfucks the Timeline

So, point the first (and this is an important one): Bail doesn’t know how he died.

I mean, he kiiiiiiiinda does? Like, the thought occurs (once he has a second to think, which takes a while, as we’ll see shortly). He knows what happened to Jedha, and possibly to Scarrif (which I can’t spell). But at the same time, there’s this sort of denial aspect to it. Like--even Tarkin would never.

(Also, he didn’t actually see the Death Star. He was not near a window/on the wrong side of the planet/something.)

So, he decides he had a stroke or something.

Point the second (also important): That whole ‘inform the Senate that all aboard were killed’ message? Never reached him. Because a) Alderaan had no actual Senator in place on Coruscant/Imperial Center/whatever the cool kids are calling it these days at the time to hear said message, and b) the Senate was dissolved like five minutes later so whichever of his friends drew the short straw on that one got a wee bit distracted.

All clear? Good! On to the fun stuff.

So, one minute, Bail is in his study, going over maps or supply routes or other war-preparation-y things with a trusted aide, and the next, he’s back on Christophsis.

More specifically, he is being tackled to one side by someone yelling “GET DOWN, SIR” just as something explodes over his head.

Which leads to: wait why is a stormtrooper tackling me wait how did a stormtrooper get into my study wait that helmet is twenty years out of date wait how did I get outside wait why is the sky the wrong color WAIT WHY IS THE SKY ON FIRE

Bail needs a minute.

And a drink.

(Why is he even on Christophsis while the sky is on fire? Is there actual canon explaining this? Do I care? ...probably not.)

In the interests of not, y’know, dying, Bail decides to just run with it for a while, until he has some breathing room and can figure out wtf is going on.

Bail is a very smart man.

Eventually, he gets his five minutes and comes to the conclusion that nope, this is not a dream, I am apparently back in the past, the War is in its early days. I can, quite possibly, fix things. Stop Palpatine. Save the Republic/Galaxy.

This seems like an excellent plan.

(NB: He is aware that doing this means losing his daughter--or at least his relationship with her/her as he raised her. And a part of him will always wish that...a part of him will always mourn her, and that world/life he lost. But this is the one thing that is worth that sacrifice. Plus, if he missed this chance, the Leia he raised would never forgive him. So a part of him is doing this for her. Giving her the galaxy she deserves, despite how much it costs him.)

The question then becomes...well, how?

He eventually decides to focus his work on the Senate, and try to limit Palpatine’s expansion/power/ascent as much--and as subtly--as he can.

Subtly because, well, he would very much like to not get caught and killed.

Not getting killed also seems like an excellent plan.

Also, pretty much no one is on to Palps yet. I mean, yeah, there are people side-eyeing him a little bit for holding on to/accumulating power the way he does, but what Chancellor hasn’t been accused of such things? And it’s not...it’s not like it will be two and a half/three years from now. And Bail cannot afford to alienate allies he will need later, depending on how successful he is/how long this takes.

Bail has been doing this for a while. He is not taking his success for granted. He is covering all his bases, just in case.

Fortunately, Bail has twenty years of running an underground resistance under his belt. This? This, he can do.

There are other problems too, of course. Like...the War is an actual thing that still needs to be resolved. But there’s not much Bail can personally do about it, not while Palpatine and Dooku are, between the two of them, derailing any attempts at negotiation. Apart from, of course, careful Senate maneuvering to remove Palps from power.

(He’ll figure out a way to deal with Dooku/Grievous/Etc. later. One problem at a time.)

Next question--who does he read in on all of this?

Breha, of course--she is his wife, and his partner. He needs her beside/behind him. Plus, it’s not exactly fair to her, to keep her in the dark about this. She’ll be expecting the husband she knows to come home to her, not a man made...let’s say incredibly cautious by twenty years of, essentially, espionage. To say nothing of the fact that he raised a child, and they’re still--trying. There’s a lot of emotional baggage there, too. They’ll make it work, somehow, he knows they will--but she needs to know. She deserves the truth from him, no matter how hard it is for him to explain/how hard it is for her to hear.

(Look, I have a lot of FEELINGS about Bail and Breha’s relationship. Even though I kind of ship him and Obi-Wan [for which I mostly blame Reprise, despite the fact that said fic doesn’t actually ship them], if I ever wrote something with the two of them together [as I might in this fic, and sort of am in one other though that one it may never actually come up on page], it would be with Breha’s full knowledge and consent. ...end random tangent, sorry.)

As for everyone else...he decides to wait and see, feeling people out as likely possibilities. Just like he and Mon did for twenty years, building the Alliance. Only this time, the barometer is more “who will believe me” as opposed to “who won’t betray me.”

(He’s aware that Obi-Wan and Padme should be pretty high up on that list but--hell, where does he even start?)

(He decides to shelve that problem for now. He’ll tell them when the time is right. ...hopefully, he’ll know when that time arrives.)

And now, the moment I’m sure you’ve been waiting for--how do we approach the whole Darth Vader issue?

You thought I’d forgotten about it, didn’t you.

(I didn’t.)

(Neither did Bail)

Okay, so, the problem, as he sees it, is that he’s...not exactly in a position to intervene.

He had no real personal connection with Anakin the first time around.

Sure, they worked together on occasion, and their relationship was certainly cordial when they did, and of course they had a mutual friend or two, but all their interactions were fairly distant/professional.

Besides, while he can extrapolate/guess a fair amount of what happened (and, more important, how/why it happened), he has no actual knowledge/frame of reference for how accurate his guesses are. (Because, LBR, even Obi-Wan might not know the full story, though he’s at least guessed almost all of it, and even if he did, he wasn’t exactly talking about it in the five minutes they were working out what to do with the twins, etc.) And if he’s wrong, he might well make things worse.

The second problem is that he has no idea how he’ll feel about/react to meeting Anakin again, given that basically the only real context he has here is the future he lived and is now trying to avert. He figures there’s two ways its likely to go:

Option one, nightmare scenario: He meets General Skywalker, and all he sees is Vader. This is...nooooot exactly very productive/conducive to him getting done what he needs to get done. In this case, Bail will avoid him as much as possible, and try to find a way to tip off Padme and/or Obi-Wan.

Option two, acceptable scenario: He meets General Skywalker, and there is a total disconnect between the person he is now and the monster he could become (did become? might become? time travel is weird). In this case, Bail will keep things more or less as they were last time; and focus on derailing Palpatine and fixing the problems in the Senate, and hope that that makes a difference.

And he’ll try to find a way to tip off Obi-Wan and/or Padme. Bail ain’t stupid.

Of course, there are two major factors here that Bail hasn’t considered.

For starters, he’d forgotten how young Anakin was.

True, some of the other Jedi Generals weren’t all that much older (to say nothing of the Padawan Commanders), and he knows there were too-young soldiers in the Alliance, too, but at the same time...

It hadn’t stuck out to him all that much the first time--maybe because it, unfortunately, wasn’t unusual/was just How Things Worked, and his personal context had been of course different, as he’d been significantly younger himself. But, despite that and the continued youth of the Rebellion... Look, dropping back into the GAR now, and seeing this twenty-year-old kid put in these situations is another thing entirely when one is on the far side of sixty (mentally, at least) and all too recently had a child his age.

ON A RELATED NOTE, major factor the second: Bail hadn’t realized just how much like Leia Anakin was.

So, when they finally do meet, Bail starts noticing all kinds of little details--a certain insouciant little smirk, a particular defiant lift to his chin, a familiar inability (equal parts endearing, alarming, and incredibly frustrating) to keep from mouthing off...

So...all of this basically means that, when Bail encounters Anakin, every instinctive Papa Wolf fiber of his being says, “This is my child now. Fight me.”

(well, not so much “fight me.”)

(Bail isn’t really a “fight me” sort of dude.)

(But you get the point.)

So now, Bail has to add ‘bond with Anakin Skywalker and help keep him sane’ to his increasingly-daunting to-do list.

This actually turns out to be...not as difficult as he expected?

(the first half, anyway)

Because, yeah, there’s a bit of a shaky start because Anakin Does Not Like politicians

(unless they’re from Naboo)

(and their name starts with Pa)

But once he works his way past that, it’s--Anakin likes having friends, he wants to like people, and he wants people to like him. Making Friends not his superpower, like it is with Luke, but it’s actually pretty easy to win his affection and respect, if you just reach out to him a little.

(thinking of that one meta post that was going around a couple days ago, about the bit with Ki-Adi Mundi at the Second Battle of Geonosis, talking about how--you know Another Friend in the Order, and then Obi-Wan says it’s a rare thing and look at how it wasn’t actually that hard for Mundi and--anyway, that sort of thing, y’know?)

So, Bail reaches out, and makes friends.

(Good Lord, he thinks, does this kid need a dad. Obi-Wan was that, and did very well, for a while at least, but he’s too thoroughly made the transition to ‘brother’ since the war started and Anakin was Knighted to fill that need.)

(You know what else he needs? is the next thought, as Anakin runs off into unnecessary danger AGAIN. A goddamn leash.)

So, we’re still pretty early in the War, and things start to shift a little bit.

Only a little bit, and fairly subtle. Bail is, after all, used to playing a long game with limited resources and everything to lose.

He worries, sometimes, that he’s moving too slowly in the Senate, but it’s such a delicate balance, if he upsets it...

But he is making progress. ...glacial, minuscule progress, but the galaxy is on a somewhat better path this time around. Palpatine finds things just a little bit harder this time around. Maybe that’ll be enough, and all the little changes will add up. That’s what Bail’s hoping for.

Unfortunately, this is Palpatine, and he has backup plans for his backup plans, and is course-correcting rather nicely.

Fortunately, that means Bail isn’t quite annoying enough to get offed.

Bail is also gradually working people into his network. Mon and Bel Iblis, to start; a few others. He decides against telling anyone he’s from the future. Compartmentalizing is better. Safer.

He involves Padme, too, of course; while he’s still not quite ready/able to approach telling her the full truth (though he knows he can’t get away with half-measures like he can with the others), her support is invaluable. He’s keeping track of what she notices and when, with regard to Palpatine’s machinations. While she is starting to waver a little, she still mostly trusts her former adviser; and Bail knows that she’ll have to decide not to on her own. All he can do is nudge her in the right direction, when he has the opportunity to do so.

He’s also gathering evidence, so that when he finally makes a bold, public strike, he’ll be able to back it up and the Republic will survive the blow to morale and the power vacuum that will inevitably ensue.

Anakin, actually, becomes a bigger change. Because while Bail has become an expert in slow, subtle progress that you don’t notice until it punches you in the face five years later, Anakin is....not.

Also, this is, like, the best year of his life. Even in the original timeline. He has a job he’s good at, he has his wife, he has his brother, he has his sister, he (at least thinks) he has a father figure in Palpatine...

And this time, he also has Bail.

Which means a confidant outside the Order, who is Not Palptaine. Who is, in fact, a very good counterweight for Palpatine because they’re both playing on the same emotional needs.

But Bail, of course, actually genuinely has Anakin’s best interests at heart.

So, Palpatine is starting to notice that Anakin is...worryingly stable. That will never do.

So, he pushes a little bit harder than he did, this early on, in the other timeline.

Not enough to make Anakin notice, of course.

(Smart as he is, Anakin is also really really dumb about some things)

But enough that when someone finally points out that, hey, Palpatine is sort of sketchy, he won’t be quite as resistant to the notion.

Because he feels--unsettled, more often than not, after meeting with Palpatine. And he tells himself it’s just because of the problems the Chancellor is pointing out to him. He convinces himself that’s all, but each time--it’s maybe just a tiny bit harder to believe.

(Strangely enough, although sometimes he and Senator Organa talk about similar things--his issues with the Council, etc.--he never leaves those conversations feeling like this...)

All of this comes to a head--oh, we’ll say about a year later.

Not much has really changed (at least in the parts of the story we, the audience, see) other than Bail is a little more integrated/involved with Our Heroes than in canon. Basically, it’s not just Padme he follows down to the docks with a sidearm to keep her from getting herself killed.

(Side note: he also would very much like to take Ahsoka home and just keep her. BAIL ORGANA IS ADOPTING ALL OF THESE KIDS AND KEEPING THEM SAFE FROM PALPATINE AND HIS SCHEMES, OKAY.)

Anyway. Bail eventually comes forward and tells Anakin--pretty much everything.

This occurs under suitably melodramatic circumstances--i.e., Anakin was playing security/escort for something Bail was doing, and they crash and are stranded together for a few days, or something. Because while Bail is like the chillest dude ever, Anakin attracts more than enough Drama to make up for that.

He’s like a Melodrama Magnet.

Also, them being stranded means Anakin can’t ragequit the conversation, losing all the ground Bail has gained over the last year.

This covers a lot of ground--even though Bail tries to stick to just what he knows is true.

But this is damning enough.

But Anakin needs to know.

“I’m doing this,” he says, “for our daughter.”

“Our daughter,” Anakin repeats.

And then Bail tells him about her. All the things he’s wanted to say this whole year but couldn’t--because it would hurt Breha too much, and who else could he confide in about the daughter he lost?

BASICALLY ALL OF THE LEIA FEELS BECAUSE HER DADS. JUST. HER DADS.

It is a long, difficult conversation, but Anakin--Anakin is not yet so unstable that he won’t listen. And Bail is his friend, someone he trusts. And he--knows there is darkness in him, he remembers what he did in the wake of his mother’s death, and he knows the truth of what Bail is telling him.

“It’s not you,” Bail says. “Not yet. And it doesn’t have to be. We can fix this, before it goes too far. I can’t solve these problems for you, but I can help. I want to help.”

(And he finds a way to shut down that insecure voice in the back of Anakin’s head that doubts Bail’s friendship for a minute there, because he can see those wheels turning, and he knows Anakin well enough by now to guess at those particular cracks in his psyche.)

(Quick note: I did say that this Bail tells Anakin almost everything--but he does leave Luke out of the conversation. As I mentioned before, he’s too cautious not to hedge his bets.)

Another thing Bail does not do is he does not--specifically implicate Palpatine, because he doesn’t know how far Anakin has drifted away from the Chancellor’s influence and doesn’t want to risk a denial-induced overcompensation reaction, where he falls even deeper under the Sith Lord’s shadow.

(but Anakin, while being kind of dumb, is also a very smart man. And he knows that the list of people who have that level of influence on both him and galactic politics as a whole is a very short one.)

They come out of this with the whole--idea, that Bail genuinely trusts Anakin’s abilities, and trusts him to help and do the right thing, and Anakin can come to him for help/perspective when it all gets to be too much, emotionally speaking, without worrying about disappointing him to the point where Bail will abandon him/not want to be his friend anymore.

(Because Bail has seen the worst he could possibly be. As long as Anakin doesn’t go that far...)

After a day or so, they get picked up from wherever they were stranded. Probably by Obi-Wan, who can tell that Something Important happened. But Anakin is being quiet, and Bail deftly changes the subject.

And then they get back to Coruscant, and a different kind of hell breaks loose.

Because Bail made a very slight, but very important miscalculation--Anakin and Leia are a lot alike, in how they approach problems, in how they view the world, in that they both operate from a fairly black-and-white way of thinking--there’s another meta post I’ve read I’m going to reference, talking about how Anakin and Leia are Justice, while Luke and Padme are Mercy.

But Leia has the advantage of a stable childhood. And a certain amount of common sense. These temper those instincts, and help her rein herself in until the time is right. Anakin...not so much.

So, Anakin, once he’s through with his preliminary debrief at the Temple, goes to confront Palpatine, about everything Bail told him, and everything he figured out from there.

(He manages to protect Bail through this, and everything that will come after--he had a vision, he tells his false friend; so convincingly that even Darth Sidious believes.)

Some time later, Bail gets a call from Obi-Wan.

“Have you heard from Anakin? I can’t reach him. Neither can Ahsoka, and he usually doesn’t duck her calls. You’re his friend, I thought, perhaps...”

Bail has a Bad Feeling(tm) about this.

Because Padme hasn’t heard from him, either.

“He’s probably racing,” Obi-Wan says, but the doubt shines clear in his voice. “He’ll be back soon, I’m sure...”

Bail takes a deep breath, because here’s another incredibly difficult conversation he’s been putting off for a year.

It’s time to read Obi-Wan--and Padme--in. On everything, just like he did with Anakin.

...that’s about as far as I have planned out in detail. But there will be a Rescue Mission, and Palpatine will end up Very Very Dead, and life will be--good. The Republic will stabilize, and Bail and Padme and Mon and their allies will fix the problems that Palpatine found and exacerbated there. And the Order will survive and adapt, becoming a little more flexible as it moves forward into a new golden age.

And while a part of Bail still mourns the good parts of his other life, he and Breha will eventually adopt another little girl, as they discussed; and Anakin will practically be his son anyway; and he will watch Leia grow up again, in a peaceful galaxy, the one she has always deserved, and he will be very pleased with what he accomplished.

[senator-mon-mothma]

Long rambling thoughts from my pre-TLJ ROTS rewatch below the cut (and my thoughts about the deleted scenes, which I basically consider part of this movie)

Not being an official master/padawan has done wonders for Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship

“Sith Lords are our speciality” ooh the second-hand embarrassment. But Palpatine, isn’t it fun tricking everyone like this? What would you really gain by killing the Jedi?

It’d be interesting if Dooku was still trying to recruit Obi-Wan during this fight but I guess he kind of burned that bridge

I wonder why Dooku didn’t try to throw Palpatine under the bus when it became clear Palpatine was betraying him.

I love how Anakin and Obi-Wan don’t bat an eye at this old man doing all these acrobatics he really shouldn’t be able to when they’re in the elevator shaft.

Anakin’s dream is another instance of Padme brushing off behavior from Anakin that she should worry more about. She knows his last dream ended with him committing mass murder...

Honestly, this whole movie is full of people being on the right track about what’s going on but not realizing how bad it is. Padme and Obi-Wan know Anakin’s struggling, the Jedi know there’s something off about Palpatine, the Senators (in the deleted scenes) know the Republic’s in trouble, but no one realizes how dire the situation is.

(in the opera scene) okay I understand why Palpatine isn’t content to just toy with the Jedi forever. It must be really satisfying to finally put this plan into motion.

Plus I love his smirk when he talks about Plagueis dying

“The Chancellor has requested that I lead this campaign” no that didn’t actually happen, Anakin. He said he quested the wisdom of Jedi if they didn’t choose Anakin, but made no requests.

I wonder if things would’ve gone differently if Mace had brought Anakin along from the start. I think it was probably too late.

I think Palpatine is trying harder than he has to post-fall to convince Anakin to kill the Jedi. I think Anakin woudl go along with just about anything he says at that point.

Order 66 is sad :( and the youngling scene is really a moral event horizon and why I really have zero sympathy for Anakin past this point. Like, imagine what happens right after the scene cuts. 

I wonder what Palpatine’s secretary thinks is going on?

In case someone isn’t already aware, Bail Organa is a hero. He’s a Senator, it would be so easy to convince himself that investigating the temple is someone else’s job, or send someone in his place, but he goes himself to investigate (and seems to be the only person who does). And then, when that doesn’t go well, it would be so easy to convince himself that he’d done his duty and it was out of his hands, but he immediately takes his ship to find any Jedi survivors. Like, he has follow through. He backs up his beliefs with words and his words with actions and it makes so much sense that this is the sort of person who raised Leia.

When Obi-Wan and Yoda arrive on Coruscant, do they even know Palpatine is the Sith? Is the Anakin=Vader discovery in the temple also the Palpatine=Sith discovery? Imagine Obi-Wan learning both of those things at the same time and realizing that he knew this relationship was bad news and still didn’t stop it.

in the “thunderous applause” scene, Bail and Padme are really working from a very different set of facts. Bail’s been hanging out with the Jedi and Padme still ostensibly believes Anakin when he said the Jedi had turned against Palpatine. What is going through her head?

“leave everything else behind while we still can” way too late for that, Padme

Oh Obi-Wan, checking Padme’s pulse.

I know it wouldn’t make sense but I always wish the Senate were in session for the Palpatine/Yoda duel when they come through the floor.

I can’t help judging Obi-Wan and Yoda for going into hiding. I get that they’re having a rough week, but they’re not the only ones. Bail just watched his friend die and the government he’s devoted his life to completely disintegrate and his reaction is “guess I’m going to be spending the rest of my life fighting tyranny”. But the Jedi are just like, “we tried once and failed, better let these newborn children handle it when they grow up”.

Breha is a saint. Bail literally just adopted a baby without telling her first? And as far as we can tell she’s perfectly happy about it.