#are these tatooine husbands maybs???

[starwarjotta]

last line challenge

rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). okay so I got tagged by the very lovely @babygirlbridger like a couple of weeks ago already (thank you!!!) but I was so busy with choir things etc. I didn't have time to process it, but now here I am! I usually don't like to post any WIPs or even reference anything I might be drawing or planning to draw because I legitimately don't ever know if I'm gonna finish what I start but skfjdsl oh what the hell, let's do it

you'll never guess who this tiny boi is

also I'm struggling with Cody's face in the middle panel, so he has a placeholder one :D don't judge me also everyone has probably been tagged a million times already (and I've been absent from tumblr as well so I've missed everything :') ) so no pressure tags @smoosey, @dontbelasagnax, @meebles, @insertmeaningfulusername, @lttrsfrmlnrrgby

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

You know when you see a thing that’s like ‘my favorite version of <ship that you like> is <every single fanon take on this ship that you don’t like condensed in one paragraph> and you’re like oh, excuse me, I seem to have wandered into the wrong house-

[dontbelasagnax]

*curling like a cat against your ankles* Lasaganie, more Codywan headcanons?? 🥺👉👈 (only if you gave them/want to share of course. thank you, you’re amazing and I love you :3c)

I am late but I come bearing gifts in the shape of the codywan headcanons you asked for!!! And I love you too 🫶

- In a no order 66 setting, Obi-Wan has a caf mug that he considers to be Cody's. This would be normal except Obi-Wan bought it during the war and always meant to find the occasion to give it to him but never got around to it. That's to say he's exceedingly normal about this cup. Especially when Cody starts spending time around his apartment and Obi-Wan serves him caf in it. For the first time. Then all the other times as well. Feeling his heart crack open seeing Cody with His Designated Mug. A mug Obi-Wan's perhaps had too much time to place too much sentimental value onto. He's perfectly normal about it and doesn't act weird at all.

(more headcanons under the cut. it's a bit long)

- Cody is a hopeless romantic but won't ever admit it. He loves romance novels and holofilms. From trashy to highly acclaimed, sweet to stuffed with depravity, he enjoys them all. They're just a spot of escapism for him. A fantastical tale to distract himself from the toll of war when the night cycle is quiet and grief is loud. The stories are all so wildly outlandishly unrealistic to him. He's a clone. There's no future for him outside his role in the war effort.

And then one fateful campaign they're on their feet for a full tenday before they encounter an outcropping with flora and fauna that, finally, aren't actively trying to kill them and they are able to set up a tentative base of operation while planetside.

General Kenobi insists everyone rest while they can. Cody lost his bedroll to some sort of carnivorous plant along the way. General Kenobi acts like it's an affront to his very livelihood when Cody tries to sleep on the ground of their shared tent. Cody is tired. He doesn't have the energy to fight back on something so stupid. Which means they have to share a bedroll. His general's bedroll. Where they're physically incapable of both laying on the little mat unless they're plastered together. Cuddling.

It's the best sleep of his life.

...Exactly like how the romance novels describe it.

He's not dumb. He's been aware that he's in love with his general. He just thought the romance novels were all embellishing to a ridiculous degree and none of it was actually... realistic.

But if the romance novels are right about this, what else is just as magical in reality?

And maybe, just maybe, could there be some hope for a glimmer of a chance for him to pursue something else with Obi-Wan after the war, if they both make it that far?

- I am fully of the belief that, in a Tatooine husbands setting, the husband bit is a complete accident. Ben is stopping by for a quick pantry restock at the Pica Oaisis marketplace when it happens. He's lived at his hut long enough for the vendors here to have a familiarity with him so it's not exactly a surprise when one says to him, "Who's the shadow of a fella that's hangin' with you lately?" They mean well, he knows. And still, it's his business. He thinks his answer is quite crafty.

He says, "He's my partner," and leaves it at that. Partner could mean anything. Alas, either an older man living in an isolated hut with another older man implies a particular thing about their relationship or the vendors have a flair for the romantic because he quickly comes to discover on his next trips to the marketplace that he has a husband. Of all the assumptions one could make, it's certainly the most harmless and... he finds he likes it. Being seen as Cody's husband. It's all awfully embarrassing and he doesn't dare tell Cody any of it.

Cody discovers it for himself a few weeks later on a solo trip to the market to pick up some feed for Rooh.

"Here to do your husband's bidding?" a vendor asks and Cody blinks.

He blinks again. "Come again?" he says.

"Ben your husband; you're running his errand?"

His first instinct is to correct them, tell them he and Ben aren't married. But how would he even begin describe their relationship? After a few seconds deliberating he decides he's better off going with it. What harm could it do? Besides, on the ride home, he finds he kind of likes it.

And that's how they become husbands. Well, the beginning of it, anyhow.

[beskarandblasters]

Me and My Husband

Chapter Nine: I’m Sorry I’m the One You Love

Married!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Synopsis: Din Djarin is doing what any typical Mandalorian would be doing after reclaiming Mandalore, finding a riduur and settling down. He’s still a member of the Guild on Nevarro, taking bounties here and there to support his new family. But when he meets you while you’re working the front desk at an inn on Naboo, he finds himself hooked, feeling like he’s found something new and exciting in his now mundane life. How long can he keep up appearances with his riduur? And how long can he keep his little secret with you?

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, set post season 3, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), some liberties taken with Mandalorian culture/weddings/marriages, infidelity, eventual smut (starts at chapter two!), switches between Reader and Din's POV, no use of y/n

Chapter summary: Where it all comes crashing down.

Word count: 1.9k

Chapter warnings: angst lol

You

It’s been only a handful of rotations since you’ve seen Din. This is the most you’ve missed him since being apart. Ever since your time on Aldhani together, you’ve never felt more connected to him. Stars, you’ve even told people about him. Not just random people but Lumya and Del. You mainly told Lumya because maybe now she’ll finally get the hint that you don’t need to be set up on random blind dates anymore. And of course, you told Del. She already knew about him vaguely when you told her you were going to Nevarro with him. But that’s all she knew about him, that he was just some mystery man who whisked you away off the planet. You brought her up to speed now about everything, who he is, where he’s from… his wife. That part made Del concerned, but that was to be expected. Del’s like a mother to you. But when you finished telling her about him all she said was, “It seems like you really love him but you’re playing a dangerous game, my dear. I'd hate to see you get hurt.” 

It’s true. You’ve fallen for him hard, but after what he told you about his wife, about Mandalorian marriages, you’ve had to ask yourself; Is this what you want? To be bound to a man who’s never going to be completely committed to you and only you?

The lovesick part of you wants to latch onto him and hope he’ll change. The cynical part of you reminds you that he probably won’t but the lovesick side of you is louder, incessant even. 

He loves you. He’s yours. You’re his. It’s as sure as every star illuminating the galaxy. As sure as the sun setting and the night sky permeating the atmosphere with its infinite darkness. 

…Right?

You throw your bag over your shoulder and get ready to leave for the library, hoping to read about some other far-off place you and Din can go to together. 

And that’s exactly what you do. You sit in your usual corner in the library, bouncing between reading physical books and digital ones on the library’s data pad. This time you’re reading about Tatooine. You know Din’s already been there from the stories he’s told you. You can’t imagine it’s actually enjoyable for him, being on that hot, sand-ridden planet under all that beskar. But you would love to see that binary sunset someday. Maybe with some convincing, he’ll take you there. Or even Coruscant. The capital of the galaxy is a must-do for any new traveler. 

You spend Maker knows how long in there, finalizing a travel wish list before deciding to head back home. It’s time to gear up for another night of loneliness. You think about Din and what he’s doing now. Maybe he’s off chasing after another bounty. Maybe he’s home eating dinner with his son and his wife… Maybe he’s having sex with his wife. The thought of that makes your stomach threaten to empty its contents right here on the street. He said they didn’t do that, though. So there’s a chance that’s not what he’s doing at this exact moment. But that’s also kind of messed up, that him having sex with his own wife makes your stomach turn. She would feel the same way if only she knew about the nights you and Din spent together, the way he made your body shake with pleasure and the most sincere words of love and affirmation he showers you with. If you were in her shoes, it would kill you to know that your husband doesn’t feel that way about you, but instead some random woman on another planet across the galaxy. 

As you turn onto your street, Din’s there, resting against the building like he was waiting for you. You’re a bit taken aback at first. You didn’t expect to see him so soon. Not that you’re not happy to see him. You’re always happy to see him. But something about his body language is setting you off. Even without seeing his face and under all the armor you can read him like a book. The anticipation swirls in your stomach. 

“Ca’tra…” he trails off in an uneasy tone, like he’s about to tell you something terrible and it’s on the tip of his tongue, the words threatening to break loose and cut you like a knife. 

“…Yes?” you ask, adding a hopeful, sing-songy tone in your voice to try and cut some of the tension. 

“I have to tell you something,” he says. 

“Okay… Do you want to go somewhere else? Somewhere more private?” you respond, trying to keep cool as your stomach sinks. 

“Back to the Crest.”

“Of course,” you nod, but he doesn’t even really wait for a response, turning and heading towards the outskirts of Theed as you follow him. 

His stance is stuff and his hands keep clenching and unclenching at his sides. You’re fearing the worst; that his wife went psycho on him, that he’s here to tell you he can never see you again, that he’s going to try to patch things up with her. The world and its elements distort around you, voices and sounds drowning out into a monotonous white noise. Your palms grow sweaty and your feet feel like they’re a thousand pounds each. It feels like you’re walking headfirst into your greatest fear, that your true blue love is about to leave you and travel back home across the galaxy, never to be seen by you again. 

The stone streets eventually turn into a grassy field beneath your feet. It's a beautiful day, the sun beaming down and bouncing off of Din’s armor and the breeze making his cape billow in the wind. The Razor Crest is perched at the bottom of a hill in the distance; a sight that normally means you’re about to go on a great adventure together. But today it signifies something else. 

He takes you inside the Crest, leading you up the ramp. He closes it once you’re both inside, making sure it’s completely locked like he did on Aldhani, before turning and walking towards you slowly. 

“Din, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m not… I’m not trying to.”

“Well, what is it?”

A pause. He lifts his helmet off his head, setting it down on a crate beside him. You’re flooded with the memory of the last time he took off his helmet in front of you, the first and only other time. But the memory is washed away quickly when you look at the state of his face; a weathered, defeated look, his eyes swollen and red. You open your mouth to ask what’s going on again but he speaks first. 

“I lost everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“I’m an apostate again.”

“...What happened?”

“May must’ve had her suspicions… because when I returned to Mandalore I was questioned by the Armorer.”

“Who?”

“She’s a well-respected leader of the Children of the Watch.”

“Okay…”

“And when she asked me if I had broken the terms of my riduurok I could not lie.” 

“So she declared you an apostate again?”

“Permanently.”

Permanently. Maker, he must be lost right now. A pit opens up in your heart for him but there’s also a nagging, almost selfish voice in the back of your mind. 

Can’t you two finally be together now?

If he loved you as much as he said he did, wouldn’t you be enough to save him from the pits of despair? Isn’t your love enough to keep him from spiraling out of control? 

“Din…” you say softly, mentally bracing yourself for what you’re about to suggest. You take a deep breath before asking in a small and delicate voice,  “Can’t we be together now?” 

He doesn’t say anything, a specific look consuming his face, a look that you can’t quite determine what it’s trying to convey.

And then it hits you. It’s almost as if he’s looking at a wounded animal; a wounded animal who’s holding onto hope and he’s about to put it out of its misery. 

“Without my creed, I am nothing.”

“...Not even if you have me?”

He says nothing and his silence enrages you. He thinks he can come into your life and make a mess, blaming it all on his creed. But what about you? What about the life he meddled with just because he was unhappy with his own life? That’s not fair to you. 

He doesn’t need to answer. And… he shouldn’t get to. 

“You know what? You just use your creed as a crutch; as an excuse,” you start, the words coming out shaky and unsure of themselves. You wait a beat for his response but he doesn’t have one, looking at you with a dumbfounded, open-mouthed expression. 

“You can’t just come into my life and change everything; change me and then claim you cannot commit yourself to me because of your creed. Well, your creed is gone now so what’s your excuse? It’s because you’re nothing but a coward; a coward who now has to deal with the consequences of his actions,” you finish, your tone growing firmer and angrier as you conclude your thoughts. Without even realizing it, you’re in his face, pointing your finger at him, and tears threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. 

“But ca’tra, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

“Don’t call me that.”

As if you’re snapped out of your angry trance, you take a step back and press your palms to your eyes, willing yourself to not have a full breakdown in front of him. He doesn’t get to see you at your lowest point, not when he’s betraying you like this. 

Tears are rolling down his cheeks and a look of realization hits him. He’s losing everything as if that wasn’t evident to him before. He’s helpless, at a loss for what to do or say next. 

“I’m sorry I’m the one you love.”

“...That’s all you have to say?”

He doesn’t respond but you don’t even care anymore. The damage is done and there’s nothing he can say to change the fact that you can’t be with him anymore. The breakdown is hitting you like a ton of bricks and it’s showing no signs of stopping. It’s too painful to be here with him, in the very space where you saw his face for the first time, in the very ship that allowed you to finally leave Naboo. The memories are tainted now. They’re dead in your mind. The feeling inside you is nothing but grief; grief for what was really never yours in the first place. 

It’s time to go. Now. 

You’re frantically pressing the buttons to lower the ramp for the Crest. Everything is a blur and the ringing in your ears is so piercingly loud that you can’t tell if Din is calling after you or not. It’s hard to tell if you even care. Your mind is occupied with one thing and one thing only; run as fast as you can. 

And you do, running through the fields back towards Theed, never looking back once. 

All you can do is leave him in the past, where he belongs. 

Chapter Ten

Graphic by @nostalxgic

Banners + divider by @saradika

MAMH tag list: @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @catchallfangirl @noxturnalpascal @nervoushottee @mandoisapunk @pr0ximamidnight @angel-in-beskar @dameron-grant-spector @xdaddysprincessxx @drewharrisonwriter @milly-louise @engie115 @survivingandenduring @unit-1021 @rentaldarling @csarab615 @swiftiegirliepop @spookyxsam @missladym1981 @sarap-77 @decembermidnight @devineconjuring @pedroslittlelady @handspunyarns @kittenlittle24 @harriedandharassed @midnightnoiserose @jbb-sgr

[queenie-official]

Chapter Three: ‘First Impressions’ Bridgerton au!Anakin

part 1, part 2

a/n: so the outfits that Obi-Wan and Ani are wearing are the ones in the photos ☝️🤭but guys tell me how i had more of chapter four planned out then i did this chapter 🤨 like i fr already had dialogue for chapter four before i even started this one 😀 anyway i hope you guys like this 🥰

Once more you find yourself pacing around in an endless circle. Today was the day you were to meet him. The wedding was already set to happen in a week. however invitations wouldn’t be handed out for another two days, the council told you it would be wise to get to know your future husband a bit first- but honestly how much could you really learn about a person in such a short amount of time. it’s not like you had a week to get to know each other, no you had the day to get to know him before he’d be back off to his own kingdom till the wedding.

“you need to calm down” Padme’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. you look over to where she’s sat on the settee, a concerned look on her face. you’d asked her to come over and help distract you. to her credit she did try at first but she quickly realized nothing she could say or do would occupy your mind from the days events. “i’m calm” you say trying to convince yourself that more then her. “if you can say that while standing still, i’ll believe you” she retorts whilst standing up and walking over to you forcing you to stop pacing as she places her hands on your shoulders.

“you can’t blame me for being nervous, i mean wether this goes well or not this is the man i am to spend the rest of my life with” you vent, feeling your anxiety swirl. you felt like this was an impossible situation, marrying someone you didn’t know. obviously it was a common thing but it didn’t make the reality of it any weirder to you. “what if he doesn’t want to marry me?” it was a stupid question, the better question would be why would he want to marry you. he was being moved away from his home to a foreign place with different traditions and cultures. not to mention an entirely different climate, you’d read up on Tatooine it was a Warm desert kingdom a direct contrast to Alderaan.

“that’s a possibility” Padme answers, not the reassurance you wanted but you didn’t call padme here because she would lie to make you feel better. you called her here because she would give it to you straight but also support you the best way she could. “so then i’ve forced a man into a loveless marriage” you huff, feeling anger course through you as your once again reminded of the councils rash decision that got you into this.

“most people these days end up in loveless marriages y/n. most women at least, we have no say in who we marry it’s all decided by our fathers.” that once again didn’t make you feel any better but it was the hard truth. “this is going to be a long day” you’d slump over if you could but the corset you had on prevented you from most movement that involved bending of any form. “maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised” you could only hope she was right.

“i know it’s silly but growing up i always imagined marrying someone i fell in love with. my mom and dad where in love when they got married, a rare occurrence for monarchs. i always pictured having what they did.” you say sadly, it may not be the end of the world that your marrying a stranger but it was the end of that dream. a cruel awakening to your inner child. “it’s not silly, most little girls wish that” Padme says sympathetically.

“if my dad where still alive he’d have ensured it a reality” you say solemnly, feeling your heart tug at the thought. “Bail was a good man, a good king and a good father” you feel your eyes gloss over at her words, it was times like this you really missed him. your father was everything to you, he was all you had when your mother passed and vice versa. losing him felt like mourning two people at once, learning how to cope without your mother all over again in addition to coping without him.

“i miss him” it came out more as a whisper, you felt that if you spoke any louder the dam would break and tears would spill. Padme was quick to pull you into a tight hug. she was a big help when you lost him, a loyal friend who you knew would always be on your side. “i can’t help but feel i’m failing him” you let out the thought that had been nagging at the back of your mind throughout this whole ordeal. “he was and always will be proud of you” she said firmly, rubbing your back gently.

“would he be proud of me for this though?” you couldn’t help but ask. “circumstances changed y/n, you’ve done what you could. besides it’s not as if this was entirely your decision” she reassured you. you take a deep breath, indulging in the hug you both shared a moment longer before pulling away. “speaking of i really need to do something about the council before another reckless decision is made.”

“the sooner you’re crowned the Queen the better” she says with a laugh trying to lighten the mood, though she was being completely serious. right as you where about to respond your conversation was interrupted by Barclay barging in, an occurrence that was becoming more and more frequent with him.

“your majesty they’re here” he said and you stiffened, the reality of the situation crashing down onto you. you knew this was coming but it hadn’t truly felt real til now.

“oh i’m going to be sick” you mumble just loud enough for padme to hear, she gives you a gentle pat on the back a silent way of saying you’ve got this. as if suddenly reminded of her existence Barclay acknowledges her “Lady Amidala pleasure to see you” it surprisingly sounded genuine, though to be fair he had been sucking up to you the last couple days clearly something clicked in his mind that you where the one who controlled wether he actually had a job or not. that or there was something else motivating him either way his change in attitude didn’t sit right with you, something was off and you could sense it.

“Barclay” was all padme said to greet him not even bothering to turn in his direction to acknowledge him properly. you had to stifle a laugh, god you loved her. she kept her head high and walked right past him, she would be leaving through the gardens so no one knew she was there. the meeting was to be kept secret from everyone aside from the respective royal families.

with a sigh you nodded towards Barclay to signify you where ready. you both walked down the hallways heading to the main foyer, with each step you took you felt as if you where being pulled down. finding it harder and harder to move forward the closer you got. these where your last moments to breath without someone beside you- metaphorically of course, after all as a royal there’s always someone at least five steps from you which was tiring to say the least.

you could swear time was simultaneously moving faster then light and slower then molasses as you watched Barclay nod to the guards to open the doors that stand as the only barrier between you and the one you are to wed. it was hard to breath? but just as quick as the breath got stuck in you it was knocked right out as one of the guards rose there voice impossibly loud to announce your arrival.

“now presenting her Majesty, the Crown Princess Y/n Organa” it honestly made your ears ring but at the very least it served as a nice reminder of where you are and pulled you back down to earth. still it all felt a bit excessive to you considering there was only four people here excluding the guards.

Walking further in so that you and Barclay where now face to face with the two men, you scanned over them quickly. they both where good looking you had to admit, what threw you off though was how drastically different they where dressed from each other. for a moment you almost thought they came from two different places but quickly brushed that off knowing good and well that wasn’t the case.

“hel-“ just as you began to greet the two men you are quickly cut off by a third party you hadn’t even noticed was there. Chancellor Valorum. “greetings you are?” he said and you paused turning to see him standing behind you, how long had he been there? no one else seemed shocked so he must of been there for quite some time you concluded. but why was he there? deciding to act like you had known he was there you turn back to the two men. to your surprise the older looking one of the two directed his attention to you and not Valorum. it brought a small smile to your face, feeling like it was a nice change of pace finally be acknowledged instead of looked over.

“I am Prince Obi-Wan first born son of the Kingdom Tatooine. and this” he gestured to the pretty blonde beside him who could easily tower over you if he was close enough. “is my brother Anakin” he finished and you felt a little giddy, so far so good right? he was tall and handsome you could only hope he was kind and had a personality as good as he looked. though to your dismay the aforementioned man hadn’t even spared you a glance, thinking on it he hadn’t looked at you even when you first entered the room. that fact made your stomach twist.

“neither of your parents are joining us?” the chancellor spoke again before you could get a word in, honestly he was one more sentence away from you clocking him in the face. but you hold your breath and maintain your composure. this time Obi-Wan does acknowledge him but only to answer his question and you were guessing to not seem rude. “unfortunately our mother and father are quite busy but as the future king they deemed it enough for me to go with my brother for this” you felt like a child who could do nothing but watch as the grown ups speak as you look back and forth from the chancellor and him.

Thankfully Obi-Wan was quick to redirect his attention to you. “your highness shall we discuss matters more privately?” why couldn’t conversation with people of power always go this way, taking to you instead of over you. you give him a polite smile before answering. “yes let’s move this elsewhere” you say with a nod. “lead the way.” was all he said in turn.

as you all walk down the halls of the castle you can’t help but notice how quiet prince Anakin was. it worried you, was he always this quiet or was he choosing not to say anything. did he already hate you- to be fair if he did you wouldn’t blame him. if the roles where reversed and your kingdom had been basically black mailed into giving you up as marriage you’d probably hate the person you thought responsable as well. you found yourself actually wishing you two where alone so you could explain yourself and hope he could understand. Then again who’d say he’d believe you, it was worth a try though wasn’t it?

unsurprisingly throughout most of the meeting chancellor Valorum spoke for you any chance he could. and just as in the foyer Obi-Wan directed his answers to you. time dragged as you guys finished up flushing out the details of the agreement more thoroughly. it was all so casual and you couldn’t help but feel sick especially with Anakin sitting right there not saying a word. you couldn’t even get a read on his emotions his face was a blank slate. it made you anxious and you weren’t sure if you wanted to just hurry up and get all of this over already or drag it out longer so you could procrastinate the inevitable.

it was evident just how long the meeting had taken when you were met with the setting sun as you looked out the window. a panic ran through you when you realized you had no time at all to talk Anakin now and the next time you’d see him would be the day of the wedding. you where now truly going into this marriage blind- not that you would of learned much about him today regardless but anything would be better than nothing.

closing up the meeting with a handshake between the chancellor and Obi-Wan, even though he had clearly held his hand out for you- you all stand up and head out of the meeting room.

Anakin had still yet to say a word, Obi-Wan being the one to speak on both there behalf’s when saying goodbye. even as they walked away you watched as he didn’t even speak to his brother, maybe he was mad and his silence was the politest protest he could do. you could only hope your whole marriage wouldn’t be like this, what an awkward life that would be. though maybe you’d get used to it at some point.

all of these thoughts swimming in your head stopped as a pair of blue eyes met yours, it was brief and for a second you thought you’d imagined it. he had look back at you right before the castle doors closed.

that’s all you had to go off of until you would meet again for the wedding day.

part 4

okay guys the next chapter will feature a lot more Anakin and yes the pretty boy will speak 🥰 this took me forever to finish 😀 mainly because i’ve been writing this in between doing work 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯 anyways i hope you all like this chapter i know it was a lot more emotional then the others but reader is going through a lot at once 😭 side note i love reading your reply’s you guys are funny and real asf🤭 that’s all i have to say for now enjoy huns Xx<3

tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss

[din-miller]

Dress For The Job

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: You're used as bait during a mission on Nevarro. Din isn't pleased with the situation 

Warnings: angst mixed with a good amount of fluff, gender neutral reader but reader wears a dress, married couple, hardcore flirting, badass reader, his first name is Din, canon-typical violence, implications to sexy times.

Nevarro's typically mellow near midday, more accustomed to the elderly citizens dawdling through the markets, reminiscing on their younger years as the wind blows a faint breeze and the local bakeries flood the marketplace with their fresh aromas.

According to Greef, pirates have been stealing from the marketplace, breaking into people's homes and ransacking them. There have been three reported deaths in the last two months. 

That's where you and Din come in. You've both been hired to track down any pirates and turn them in.

That was two weeks ago. When you and Din dropped off Grogu on Tatooine with Peli, you both promised to be back in a few days.

A few days, four at most. 

Not two weeks.

You're definitely paying a hefty interest rate when you do pick up the kid. It's a good thing Greef is willing to pay you handsomely.

You could tell the High Magistrate was getting antsy the longer the pirates roamed Navarro. Din wasn't much better. During the days he would be tracking every lead possible, during the nights you would hold him in your arms and tell him to breathe. 

You weren't much better, really. There's this frustration that's humming through your body. An anger that's boiling in your veins the longer you're away from Grogu. 

Last night was the hardest night you've had in a while. Din had finally given up on his newest dead end lead and crawled into bed with you. He pulled you against his chest, which fell and raised with each unsteady breath. He missed Grogu and the cracks in his voice as he spoke had you crying into his chest, his own tears falling into your hair.

Maybe that's why you had agreed to Greef's newest plan the next morning without a second thought.

Under the hot sun, warmth seeping into your black shirt, you're definitely starting to regret saying yes. Kicking a small stone you mumbled under your breath, "Standing around waiting to get kidnapped. Not exactly the highlight of my life."

Through your earpiece Din huffed, definitely still displeased with this plan, "Just stay focused, Greef said they should be here today."

"They better be, I'm not sweating through my good shirt for nothing." You sighed, armpits already feeling sticky, "I've never been used as bait before. Am I doing a good job?" 

Din doesn't answer. Which isn't a surprise. He's been ignoring you since you took Greef's side and stripped yourself bare of all weapons but one to stand in the middle of the marketplace to be discovered by a group of pirates who've already murdered three people.

Okay, putting it that way does make Din's reaction understandable. Greef had worded it better.

"Mando, it's going to be okay, I promise. Besides I'm armed and you're only a few blocks away if it goes south."

"I know, cyare, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy that my riduur decided to put themself in a dangerous position."

You want to point out that he did the same thing back on Tatooine cycles ago. Played bait for Cobb Vanth. You're not going to though, not when his breathing is heavy through the earpiece like it's taking everything in him to remember how to take in a steady breath. 

You quickly glance over to where he's hidden from view a few rooftops over. You sent him a look, one that reassures him that you'll take every safe precaution available.

You're not offended by the way your husband is acting like you can't handle yourself. You both know you can, you've done it dozens of times before. It's just his nature to worry; about you, about Grogu, about his friends.

You start to lazily stroll through the marketplace, keeping yourself in Din's line of sight as much as possible. 

You've kept the line open – Din doing the same on his end – and you do your best to minimise your lip movement when you speak, "I was thinking maybe after this we could relax on Sorgan for a couple weeks. That'll be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Focus."

You rolled your eyes at that, "We haven't been back there since our honeymoon, or at least our version of a honeymoon. Most couples don't normally fight off raiders during their romantic getaways." 

There's a soft chuckle from Din's end, "When have we ever fit into the category of normal?"

"I still have my wedding dress," You commented, enjoying the way his breath hitched at it, "It's been a few years but I'd imagine I could still fit into it."

"Cyare."

You grinned at his warning, you know he's recalling the moment he first saw you in the dress, "Like you haven't thought about it before. We share the same bed and you occasionally mumble in your sleep."

"I do not, i- it doesn't matter, please just focus–" There's a second of silence, then your name and a string of curse words fell from his lips, "They're here."

Your chest tightened. It doesn't matter how long you've been chasing down bounties, there's always a moment of fear that settles in your bones.

"Where?"

"South entrance. Three males, all human, all armed." 

Rocks crunch underneath your heel as you sharply turn to face south, "Three? Huh, I figured there would be more, I'm kind of disappointed."

"Considering it's just you down there only armed with a blade, three is too damn many."

For a second you wish you could pull him into your arms, tell him it's okay with delicate touches. You can't though, so you settled on a soft 'I love you' and tried to gain the attention of the three men.

"I'm not drawing their attention." You're getting frustrated. Eyeing the closest clothing booth, an idea sprung to life, "I need to stand out more."

Grabbing a dress to change into, you head into the small fresher. You'll pay for the dress later, right now you're on a time limit.

"What are you doing? I don't have eyes on you." Din's voice is octave higher, a clear sign that he is beginning to panic.

"I don't think I'm in much danger inside the fresher, honey."

The dress is a little complicated to put on, multiple straps that seemingly do nothing functional, but it's definitely flattering on you. It highlights curves you didn't even realise you have.  

"Yeah, because pirates are known for their decency." Din grunted, eyes scanning every little crook and nanny around the small fresher,  "What did you even get anyway?"

"You'll see." You smirked to yourself. You're well aware you're attractive, Din tells you often, normally followed by a little worshipping, sometimes sexual, sometimes not. 

The dress has a slit which makes the knife strapped to your thigh easier to grab if needed. Which you hope it isn't, you're not in the mood for things to get bloody.

With a quick glance in the mirror, chasing away any lumps in the dress' fabric, you swiftly exited the fresher. There's shocked sputtering coming from Din's side of the comm. Your heart fluttered happily, satisfied with his reaction. Probably more than you should be, but heck it's not every day you get to dress nicely. 

When Din spoke again you could tell it's through clenched teeth, "What. Are. You. Wearing?"

"Oh, this old thing? It's just something I found." You smirked, sending a wink his way before sobering up, "I have eyes on them. I'm going to get their attention and try to lead them down a back alley." 

Din sighed, shifting to allow his weapon to follow your pathway, "Please be careful. I'd rather not spend the night stitching you up."

You hummed and couldn't hold back one last teasing smirk, "Is there something else you'd rather be doing tonight?"

"Don't get stabbed and you'll find out."

You blushed, cheeks burning a pretty pink colour, "I'm holding you to that, babe."

Unfortunately for you, things did end up getting bloody. Fortunately for you, you didn't end up getting stabbed. 

You dropped the last guy just as Din came barreling down the alley. You have your boot pressed against the pirate's chest underneath you, not that it was necessary since he's unconscious, and your knife is sliding back into its holster with a flick of your wrist. 

You beam up at your husband, hand gesturing to the three unconscious men around you, "What do you think? Not bad huh?"

Din shook his head, voice almost urgent, "Are you hurt?"

"Not a drop of blood," You reassured him as you used the man underneath you to clean off the dirt on your boot before stepping back, "Might have some fancy bruises tomorrow morning but that's expected." 

With a sigh, Din started gathering the men up for Greef to come deal with, "I'll apply some Bacta when we get back to the ship. I want to be gone by nightfall, I'm afraid Peli might file for adoption papers if we're not back soon."

She wouldn't but the thought of it made you laugh, "Hey she can have split custody if that means we can take a trip to Sorgan." You bumped your hip against Din's as you pass him, "How about you wait here for Greef and I'll go return this dress."

A hand quickly wrapped around your waist stopping you from leaving and your face is suddenly inches from Din's. Your husband kept a hand around the back of your waist as the other slowly trailed up your spine. 

Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. Your both not normally one for public display of affection, but the way his helmet quickly fogs over at your warm breath has you not caring.

Finally his gloved hand reaches the top of your spine and your dress is yanked back, a quiet snapping sound hits your ears. You pulled back from his embrace with a frown.

Din brought his hand around and hanging from his thumb and index finger is a small cardboard rectangular object, "You can't return things without the tag."

You can't help but snort at his antics, "That's not how that works, babe." 

Din shrugged, "Maybe not, but we have roughly thirteen hours before we touch down on Tatooine and I want to see how pretty that dress is all spread out on our bed."

And fuck, you just saved their planet, at the very least they owe you a dress.

[r-2-peepoo]

Idk why I see more and more people turning on the Tatooine husbands arc. It’s perfectly in character. It wasn’t cut for not making sense.

They’re not hanging out and having fun. It’s not a cute little vacation. Cody isn’t giving up his entire purpose just to settle down and get married. He’s not giving up his purpose at all because he gets to decide what that is.

The conditions on Tatooine alone are proof that this isn’t actually the cute domestic headcanon we love so much, as enjoyable as that is. Who would choose to live there? Especially someone like Cody, whose home planet is extremely wet. He’s there because of his duty, not despite it. A part of it is certainly guilt, but Obi Wan has an important mission and Cody cares about him and wants to help him carry it out. This is maybe the first major personal choice he’s ever made which is why it’s so significant. He isn’t turning his back on the fight against the Empire. The exact opposite in fact.

Yes it’s super cute to imagine them living together and having a happily ever after, but we all know that’s not actually what it is. They live on a planet that makes you age twice as fast as normal because the conditions so harsh, they either live in caves or little huts and there are very real threats to their lives on a daily basis (hence the part about them dumping stormtrooper bodies into the sarlacc pit from the deleted script). This is not a happy ending, especially since Obi Wan eventually dies, and it’s so much more poetic for Cody to choose something that isn’t a leadership position because that is literally all he has ever known for his entire life.

[raphaerolo]

Sadness desert husbands for the WIP ask game!

Thanks for the ask! This one makes me sad. It's a comic, it's Codywan (but most of my wips are), and it makes me sad... What it is currently is a couple panels, idk how many it'll end up being, following Cody and Obi-Wan from the clone war, then during their time on tatooine, and then to both of their deaths (and that's when i cry). It's a very slow creation process for this one just because I have to budget the sadness, and it's still very much in its early stages, but have some sketches!

These hail from the tatooine husband era of the comic, having (in left to right, top to bottom order) them reunite, and then an eopie-mounted kiss cuz obi-wan's leaving for work at the meat cutting place, then just two tender panels of them being soft, and then kitchen table just chatting. I want to add a little something with a garden, I want Cody to have a garden on Tatooine, i think that's important. I also might add something with luke and leia to this section of the comic. Maybe something with lightsabers. This is the sweet part of the comic, I can add whatever I want to make it both more and less heart wrenching for myself to work on.

Find wip game post here

[phoenixyfriend]

A discord was discussing how modern AUs are always so... normal. And I got distracted, because my favorite "we are SO normal [is not normal at all]" ship is Anidala.

I feel like Anakin and Padme can pretend at normal in a modern AU but it's all a Mr. And Mrs. Smith kind of playacting where they are both pretending to be So Normal they are like 1950s ready-to-be-a-nuclear-family newlyweds they are SO NORMAL and then you take one wrong look and WHOOPS their basement is full of spy tech and like. Grenades.

"I'm going to get a good grade in being a suburban housewife, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve."

- hitman Padme, probably

And then @bytebun said "i have no seen wandavision but based solely on the trailer. vaderkin play-acting that kinda normal"

and I lost my mind for a little because. Yes.

I just love unfathomably weird child celebrity Padme and slave-turned-warrior-monk Anakin and their attempts to be Suburbanite Young Parents.

For this to work for me, I need to insist that Padme is completely cognizant and has her free will, she's just really weird. None of that "Anakin mind-controlled her into loving him" shit here, she's just as weird as he is.

Padme means her smile she is so chill she is so excited to be invited to the neighborhood potluck she made her SPECIALTY BREAD.

She is going to have NORMAL PERSON CONVERSATIONS about things that are NOT GUNS or HOW TO TRACK DOWN TAX EVASION IN THE MAFIA.

Byte:

"Oh, Mrs. Amidala, what does your husband do for work?"

"…security."

They are. So normal. They promise.

i am also thinking abt non-vader au this playing out on like tatooine. or just no-order66 and they are politely asked to move out of the penthouse because there have been an uptick in attempted assassinations & it's making the other senators rlly nervous

anakin gets a Reputation as the guy you go to if your engine won't turn over or if you have a Plumbing Incident

he's out here talking to all the middle-aged guys building their patios & he's soooooo excited about it. he wants to help choose the colours. he's ALSO extremely in with the auntie gossip abt marriages

he's like very well-loved actually maybe padme is even a little jealous ajsdlkfds;flk but sometimes he gets this... look. and he seems to know too much, about things you've never mentioned

They get a reputation for being weird and odd but like in a nice and fun way. They are absolutely not normal but it's a different kind of not normal than the truth.

One of the local moms tries to armchair psychiatry them.

Is it a modern au? Does Anakin have superpowers or is he just a spy with ADHD? Is it just Witness Protection: Naboo? Who knows! They are SO normal.

what's that my boy has autism but he sure can grill post. kinda like that. except it's my boy is a bit eldritch sometime but he sure can home depot

i think padme is like almost a little too put-together to get along with the other moms…. they get like nervous

(she remedies this by making mistakes on purpose & follows up by talking abt luke & leia)

Padme lives her life like an instagram mom.

There's a Major Attack of some sort and suddenly Padme is shooting things and Anakin is shepherding people into his basement because It's The Only One That Can Withstand A Bomb and everyone is just like. Oh. Okay. What the fuck.

SO normal. different story abt the prosthetic hand each time, also.

when people are too perfect. ur like. [sweats]

Anakin accidentally manages to convince everyone that he escaped a cult. This is not true. But he can't explain the truth so he just asks them not to talk about it.

I just

I need them to be weird but in a way where they are CONVINCED they are so normal, guys.

They are doing so well at pretending to be Regular Citizens. (They are not.)

The fandom is just lacking in Anidala fics that let them be weird as fuck for comedy purposes.

[ihathbenobiwankenobied]

Hello there! I am very excited to be posting my fanfc for the Codywan Reverse Bang this year! @madbunnyarts created an amazing piece of art (which will be posted and linked shortly) and I was more than thrilled to create a tatooine-husbands fic inspired by it. The title below links to ao3, but the fic can also be read on here if you prefer. (fair warning, its 20K all in one post).

A Remedy Painted Blue - codywan reverse bang, team 3, @codywanreversebang

Summary: 

After ten years trying to keep his head down on Tatooine, Cody finds Obi-Wan lost in a life he never planned on living. It's not what they dreamt about during the war, but perhaps together they can make it work.

Except Cody has a secret he didn't know he was keeping. And it might just tear them apart.

(fic below the cut)

CHAPTER 1:

Obi-Wan learned the beauty of routine in the years after the Clone Wars–as the war was called now–came to an end. 

There was something about the ceaseless monotony, the thrum of passing days, and the daily return to the same, mundane tasks. Routine was enough to structure his passing days into something more bearable.

He had cut the Force off from its root several weeks after he had settled on Tatooine–but it had to be replaced with something. Obi-Wan, instead, committed himself to a life of completing basic tasks just to keep himself alive. It was simple, he didn’t have to think much, he could just exist. 

The moments of his days that he left unplanned were often spent in contemplative silence. He was waiting for something– that’s what it felt like–especially when he found himself gazing over the rippling waves of the sand. 

“Master…” He called out desperately after his ninth year on Tatooine. “Master, please.” He usually paused, hoping that Qui-Gon’s voice would sound from somewhere far in the distance. He found himself in moments of hope and despair all the like, waiting for the voice of a ghost to give him some semblance of guidance. 

Qui-Gon never responded, but someday, Obi-Wan hoped he would. 

Obi-Wan– Ben– he reminded himself, liked his new home. It wasn’t like his rooms in the Jedi Temple, and it wasn’t like his quarters on the Negotiator but it was quiet. For years, there had been constant chatter and noise surrounding him; endless Council meetings, the sounds of war, the sounds of others snoring loudly through the thin walls. 

He liked this new life, a mostly silent one. At least, that’s what he had set out to convince himself. But sometimes, he craved the noise again, wanting to hear something other than the echo of his own voice in his mind. 

Obi-Wan found himself in Anchorhead looking for noise in his tenth year on Tatooine. 

It was the anniversary of Anakin's fall. 

It was the anniversary of the fall of the Republic. 

It was the anniversary of death, really.

It was a little joke to himself, the death of all the things that had shaped him. The death of the Jedi Order, his padawan, the life he once knew, the love he had held for the man who had ordered him dead. It was a bitter, unfunny joke, but one that ten years of time easily justified. 

Anchorhead was both lively and drab today; the vendors, selling their usual poorly maintained fruits and goods they’d purchased from the Jawas. Obi-Wan headed for the small general store where he knew he could find packages of extra rations and maybe a small candy to save for the evening. He kept his head low, ducked, under the tattered hood of his cloak. 

“Ben. Twice in a year? What a surprise.” The twi’lek shop owner–Shorelt, Obi-Wan thought his name was–smiled sleazily, his hazy eyes locking with Obi-Wan’s. Surely, he was already drunk this early in the day. 

“Just here for some rations, mealpacks. Do you have three boxes of them in?” Obi-Wan asked gruffly, realizing suddenly that he hadn’t heard his own voice in some time. He sounded older, but it could have been the coarseness of his dry throat. 

“I have one box, but… perhaps I could have three,” The twi’lek answered, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “For a price. ”

This time, Obi-Wan came prepared, the extra credits already waiting in his pocket. He pulled them out, sliding them over the counter with his eyebrows raised. “Will this do?” 

A greedy smile crossed the shop owner's face, and he inspected each credit like Obi-Wan would attempt, after many years now, to cheat him. “Fine,” he said after another moment, and hiked two boxes onto the counter. Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, already knowing what the twi’lek was trying to pull.

“I asked for three,” he said politely, but the grumble in his tone did little to help.

“And I changed my mind. Will that be all?” 

In another time, long ago, Obi-Wan would have pinned his head to the counter and demanded the third box, but his energy had long since diminished, and whatever will he had to fight no longer existed. 

“Just that there.” He pointed to one of the small bags of pink hard candy that hung on the wall.

“Have it on the house.” The shop owner hissed, a smug smile still painted on his face.

Obi-Wan nodded, gathered his things, and left with a swift walk through the open face of the store. He had planned to spend more of his day in Anchorhead, finding something to bring to Luke, but a sudden queasiness hit him when he stepped into the midday sunshine. 

But it wasn’t just his stomach turning, was it? 

No. it was something more. Something tickling at the back of his mind, curling around his insides and strangling him. His heart rate became increasingly erratic with each passing moment.

I need to leave. Something isn’t right. 

He set a quick pace, weaving through the townspeople with ease.

He kept his head down, keeping hold of the cloak covering his head with a tight grip, but it would do little to mask his panicked expression from onlookers. He tried to school his features. 

He wound through the crowds, inching closer and closer to where his eopie was tied in the common stable. 

It felt like someone was behind him– watching him like he was prey. 

In an attempt to divert them, he noted an alleyway sectioned off between two taller buildings; it would almost be a short-cut. Glancing around to his sides, trying to see if there was anyone suspicious lurking in the shadows of his vision, he made a harsh turn to the right, walking with only increased speed to the thin alleyway. 

His own fear rushed in his ears–it tasted like blood. 

How long had it been since he had truly felt the overwhelming flood that came with natural fear? Fear uninhibited by the Force? 

He gulped in a breath of air as he only felt the presence behind him come closer, tailing him now. 

He did not have to see the person to know they were there.

It was then–only when he was contemplating where to go, what he could possibly do next–that he felt a tug at his hood. He was yanked backward, colliding against someone’s chest, the boxes of his meal packs flying out of his arms. A hand clasped over his mouth in some attempt to muffle any sound he chose to make. 

Not that he would choose to scream now, when he was meant to remain invisible.

Hands fumbled over his shoulders and sides, pushing him toward the sand-encrusted wall of the alley, slamming him into it with prejudice, stealing whatever breath was left in his lungs. 

Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed for a moment, fearing if he opened them–if he moved–the contents of his stomach would crawl up his throat and land on his attacker’s boots.

“Look at me. Now. ”

That voice–it was deep and rumbling, made hoarser from years of overuse–and yet, it seemed strangely familiar. Like Obi-Wan had once heard it in a dream.

Following the instructions he was given, he opened his eyes to a squint.

In front of him, there was a masked figure, dressed in a cloak much like his own, but it closed in the front. The mask covered the being’s eyes, nose and mouth, leaving little to use as a form of identification. The being was elusive–dressed so similarly to many of the villagers he had seen that day–Obi-Wan knew he wouldn’t have noticed the attacker before. 

“I–” Obi-Wan tried to stop his natural inclination to be curious about the man. He just wanted to get out of here. Just wanted to be left alone. Had he been discovered? Could he still talk his way out of this? He would beg if he had to. Pride mattered not. “What do you want? I’m just trying to get some meal–”

“No–don’t say anything,” the man, the voice was definitely male at least, grumbled threateningly, interrupting him. 

It was then Obi-Wan felt something cold against his throat, pressing against the skin just below his neck. His breaths came in harshly as he realized what it was.

A knife. 

A knife pinned to his neck. Luckily for Obi-Wan, it only just barely grazed over his skin, the blade gleaming as a small sliver of sun poured into the alleyway. 

Obi-Wan held his breath as the man’s gloved hand fumbled inside his own cloak. 

It’s a blaster. He’s going to stun me and turn me into the empire.

He didn’t release his breath, waiting for the shot against his gut, but instead,the man pulled out a small datapad. He held it up, in front of  Obi-Wan’s face– there was his picture –and looked between him and the datapad repeatedly, as though he were scrutinizing something. 

Obi-Wan did not bother to spare a curious glance and let out a shuddering breath.

“It–” The man dropped the datapad in the dirt with a suddenness that made Obi-Wan flinch where he stood. The sharp blade cut into his neck just a touch, pressing just into his soft skin.

Obi-Wan hissed and curled his hands into fists by his side. One wrong move and he was dead.

“It– I’m sorry I–” The man suddenly dropped the knife the way he had the datapad. He let Obi-Wan go, fumbling with something in his pocket again, only to produce a square of cloth and holding it out to Obi-Wan. 

A cloth Obi-Wan took with a shaking, hesitant hand. 

“I– it’s you, ” the man said, staring at Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan kept his expression as neutral as he could manage as his worst case scenario came to fruition before his eyes. 

There were many reason’s someone would know who he was. Too many reasons that would lead to own death, or to some form of slavery, or torture, or trial. 

“It’s not.” Obi-Wan murmured. “I’m not who you think I am–I’m just a tradesman, nothing more.” Obi-Wan pointed to the common stable that was just across the way from the end of the alleyway. “My eopie is just over there–I take her to work–” 

“No. No– you’re not. You weren’t that.” The man shook his head, taking a step back.

Obi-Wan didn’t like the accusation, nevermind that it was true. 

“Who do you think I am?” he settled on the question, allowing himself to take a long breath as the man in front of him eyed him.

“You’re–” The voice paused, and the man shuddered underneath his flowing robe. “You’re a Jedi. You were a General. ”

“I’m–No. You have the wrong person.” The longer he persisted, the more he delayed, the longer he had to escape.

The man in front of him didn’t respond, just stood rigidly, arms pinned against his side. Then, he slowly moved to pull at the button on the front of his cloak. 

Obi-Wan held his breath.

Beneath the cloak was a set of white armor–or what one should have been white, had there not been years of use and age painted upon it. 

Clone armor. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t forget it if he tried. 

“You’re–” Obi-Wan hesitated. “You’re a clone. ”

The man reached for his mask, hands linking over the top and bottom of it. 

The man revealed was a clone, an aged and graying clone, but a clone nonetheless. 

But he wasn’t any clone. 

Across his face, stretching from his brow around his eye, was an identifying scar, one that Obi-Wan had so many times traced with the tips of his fingers. 

A crushing weight settled on Obi-Wan’s chest.

No, it couldn’t be him. 

It couldn’t be Cody–not the Commander who had tried to kill him on Utapu ten years before? 

There had been a time when Cody had been his second-in-command and one of the only people he had learned to trust. All of that had been lost in seconds when he had been thrown from Boga, falling into the water below. His trust–along with years of life spent hand-in-hand–drowned in that water.

There was a time when he would have sacrificed anything–even himself–for Cody. Obi-Wan realized now, he might die at Cody’s hand instead. The Commander had returned to finish the job, to end things for good. 

Obi-Wan wanted to believe his eyes had deceived him, but this time it was his mind playing the tricks instead. 

“Sir– Obi-Wan. ” The man’s –Cody’s– eyes were wide and watery. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but notice the fine gray hairs collecting by his ears and the little lines that had formed around his lips and eyes. Signs of aging much like Obi-Wan’s own, telling the story of how much time had passed. 

Ten years. 

“Cody?” 

The man nodded once, then swallowed. 

Then nodded again.

It had to be impossible–had to be a lie. Obi-Wan could still remember his first nights on Tatooine, unable to sleep as he considered all he had lost. He imagined Cody had gone on to serve the Imperials, only to die in the line of duty. 

Obi-Wan had mourned him. 

He had mourned them. 

After ten years, Obi-Wan had settled himself with the idea of death–the idea that the people he cared about most were long gone.

He had grieved for so long.

“I didn’t think I would find you.” 

Cody’s lips were dry, and his skin was somewhat red. Obi-Wan could only imagine he had been scouring the planet for some time, especially given the layers of dust and grime that covered his worn armor. 

“I’d hoped no one would,” Obi-Wan replied without thinking, and watched Cody’s face crumble. He hadn’t meant it as a reprimand, but that was inevitably how it sounded; it seemed personal, upon reflection. “I’m in hiding. You know the Jedi are not welcome in society these days,” Obi-Wan clarified, but it seemed to be too late to fix the broken frown Cody wore. 

“I–I’m sorry.” Murmured Cody, voice cracking. 

Obi-Wan wanted to reassure him, like he had once done without thought many years before, but it wasn’t the time or place, not here in the center of Anchorhead where anyone could see them, where a clone might be easily recognized.

Obi-Wan reached out for Cody’s arm instead, just the tips of his fingers grazing the dirtied plastoid of his armor. 

They locked eyes, and Obi-Wan felt a mix of melancholy and relief flood his veins. 

Every moment they had shared together replayed behind his eyes like a holofilm, forcing him to recall all the times they had shared a bed, kissed after dinner, intertwined their hands underneath a table. How many hours had they spent speaking in hushed tones in one of their rooms? 

It was crushing, the weight of millions of replayed moments spinning through his head. While he had shoved each of them into the very back of his mind, they were still there burning brightly. In many ways, he thought he had forgotten them.

Obi-Wan pointed to his mask. 

“Don’t be. Just–we can’t stay here. Put that back on, and come with me.” 

He hadn’t much of a plan other than to leave the city. There were so many words he needed to say, so many built up feelings caught deep in his chest.

He needed time.  

Obi-Wan felt eyes on his back, watching him and Cody weave through the dusty, winding roads of Anchorhead. 

He felt eyes on his back often these days, tracing his every move and waiting for him to prove himself a Jedi. 

This time, he chose to ignore the nagging feeling of those eyes. 

He had ridden his eopie into town, but it wouldn’t support the weight of both him and Cody. It would be an hour’s long walk out of the city and back to his home–his cave, he reminded himself. At least, he was sure Cody would think it was just a cave. 

They didn’t speak, not for a long time, not even when they were out of the city and walking amongst the waves of sand and dust that filled the desert.

There were always words on the tip of Obi-Wan’s tongue, but he couldn’t find the courage to say them. Questions lingered in the air between them. Cody equally as unwilling to say anything other than an occasional rudimentary observation. 

Cody’s face–when Obi-Wan eventually spared a glance at him once they had reached the vast expanse of the desert–was covered in beads of sweat, his cheeks covered in a slight hue of pink from the exploits of the twin Tatooine suns that hovered high in the sky above them.

It was the same face he had known so well.

The scar running down the side of his face hadn’t changed, nor had the creases by his lips and in his forehead. It reminded Obi-Wan of the times he had traced Cody’s features with the tips of his fingers while they sat in his quarters, holofilm playing in the background. 

Obi-Wan’s stomach burned with the thought. Between his moments of anguish, Obi-Wan had carefully packed away these little memories, burying them behind everything in his brain. He’d wanted to forget, to wipe himself clean, to become a fresh slate. 

He wasn’t so sure now. 

They were a klick away from Obi-Wan’s dwelling when Cody cleared his throat, breaking the hazy, unsure silence.

“Do you have water?” he asked, voice gruff the way Obi-Wan remembered his being in his first days on Tatooine. Wordlessly, Obi-Wan detached his canteen from where it was hooked to his eopie’s saddle. 

Cody drank tentatively, and Obi-Wan would have told him that he had a fairly large reservoir stored away in his home, but the words evaded him like they had for an hour already.

What was there to say anyway?

Obi-Wan took a moment to study Cody’s face. There were new lines–aging lines–that crinkled around his eyes and lips. His skin was a shade or two darker; his hairline was just a touch shorter than it used to be. Like Obi-Wan himself, his hair had begun to gray around the edges. Another reminder of the time that had passed, all the moments they had spent away from each other. 

“You’re staring,” Cody said, reattaching the canteen himself after another small swig. Obi-Wan hoped the heat rising to his cheeks was less apparent than it felt. 

“I apologize,” Obi-Wan murmured, then pointed toward the very small rock formation in the distance where his cave was situated. “Come, we’re headed right over there.”

It was not long before they had arrived at the entrance to his dwelling.

Obi-Wan tried not to watch Cody’s confused, questioning expression as he looked up and down at the structure, then eyed the space surrounding it. “It’s really–secluded,” Cody settled on.

“It is,” Obi-Wan said. Something inside of him– the person he used to be, the General– hoped Cody wouldn’t be too critical of the conditions Obi-Wan had slowly succumbed to. For years Obi-Wan had been alone with his home and his meager supply of clothes and whatever he could scrounge. He had acquired only the basics–maybe as a punishment inflicted upon himself. Obi-Wan had become accustomed to living amongst the dust and grime; he barely took the time to take care of himself, let alone notice the dirt building up on his skin, clothes, and floor. 

Who did he have to impress? Not the Lars’s, certainly. Not himself. 

Embarrassment flooded his veins as the realization of how far he’d fallen dawned on him. This wasn’t the person he wanted Cody to see–not this wretched shell of the man he’d been years before–but it was too late to do anything about it now. Cody was here, standing in the opening that served as his entryway, with barely an explanation. 

This was just an added punishment, Obi-Wan considered. 

He led Cody inside with the flick of his wrist and immediately set both boxes of rations down onto his small, one-person table. With a quick glance around the state of his rooms, Obi-Wan thought everything looked as satisfactory as it could; the pots were put away–all two of them–and most of his possessions were stowed in the chests he kept out of view. In fact, it would seem to an outside observer that no one lived at all, save for the single bed roll and rustled blankets tucked away in another cavern.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, then offered, “I have a second bed roll and a blanket. You can use those to sleep. There are some clothes you can borrow if you wish to get out of your kit. It’s rather warm here.” Cordial at best, that’s how the words felt. Polite. 

He wished he could say more, but something stopped him. He felt conflicted, somewhere between relieved and unsettled. While he should have felt elated, even pleasantly surprised by Cody’s survival, he had kept the thoughts of his past life an arm’s distance for so long that he couldn’t let himself enjoy it. 

“Thank you,” Cody said, offering a warm smile. There was a hint of sorrow hidden in his eyes, a sorrow that Obi-Wan remembered seeing so many times throughout the war. When any brother passed, that look followed Cody everywhere for days. He had always been driven by his empathy for others– at the time, Obi-Wan had admired that.

Often, Cody would comm Obi-Wan late into the night, asking for him to come to his quarters. Obi-Wan would go, no hesitation, and hold him close until Cody’s tears had dried and his trembling had stopped. It was a common dance between them, exchanging small comforts and breathing life back into each other where it had been lost. 

Now, he wished Cody wouldn’t look at him that way, sorrow brimming from his eyes. It felt like pity. 

“Why are you here, Cody?” he asked after a lengthy pause. Neither of them had moved since coming in, Obi-Wan pinned next to his kitchen counter and Cody lingering in the wide opening of the cave. 

“I came to find you. I–I needed to know you were alive. There were rumors you were. I had to know.” 

A cascade of anger washed over Obi-Wan. Rumors. 

He had been given a single objective to punctuate the remainder of his life. He was meant to be a soulless protector of a child who held so much potential for redemption, for hope. Obi-Wan was an embodiment of the old way of the Jedi, a broken, spineless example of the fractures made in the Order. But Luke? He was going to change things, that’s what the Force had told Obi-Wan before he had cut himself off from its roots. 

Rumors threatened his protection of the one hope the galaxy had left.

“Rumors? From whom?” he asked pensively, instinctively straightening under Cody’s gaze.

“From the vode,” answered Cody. “There are many of us still alive who have left the Empire. Rex made an effort to retrieve as many brothers as he can. He found me and took me to his base.” 

The words took a moment to sink in, but when they did, Obi-Wan was left with a hint of devastation. All throughout his time on Tatooine he had considered the fate of the clones. Guilt stirred inside of him, knowing he had settled, thinking they had sworn loyalty to the Empire. Clearly, many had escaped.

“Why did you leave the Empire? You were loyal to them; how can I trust you now?” The words stung on his tongue as he spoke them, the silver lining of Cody’s presence barely enough to convince Obi-Wan it wasn’t just some sick trick the Imperials had cooked up in an attempt to murder their final Jedi.

Cody swallowed, eyes narrowed toward the ground. “You know about the chips?” 

The chips?

Obi-Wan spun the word around his mind, but came up short.

“What chips?” He asked, voice still gruff. 

“I–I figured you knew. I assumed the Jedi knew.” The word Jedi hung in the air, hovering over Obi-Wan like the looming Tatooine suns. “There were chips in our minds. They were said to control our temper, but they weren’t. The chips were used to control us, to make us slaves of the Empire. We couldn’t resist their orders.” 

Cody hissed the words out, scuffing his toe in the dirt, not looking up for a long second. 

Obi-Wan let each and every word sink in, considering the possibility that it could be true. His heart stuttered behind his ribcage, and his stomach twisted unnaturally. 

If it was true, Cody’s actions–his sudden treason and abandonment–seemed more plausible. If it was true, it was still a betrayal, but it wasn’t truly Cody. 

It was too difficult to digest, too much information to process without a moment alone to think about it, to consider what the rushing in his veins meant. 

Something that felt like rage, but stung like guilt, simmered in his stomach as Cody continued, “We spent a war circling around each other, and then, in an instant, all of that disappeared. It was stolen from me. I couldn’t bear to be without you, if you were still alive. And I want–I don’t know–” Cody shook his head in defeat. 

Obi-Wan said nothing–couldn’t possibly say anything useful–his own eyes tracing the cracks in the floor that mirrored the jagged fractures that coursed through his soul, caverns getting deeper and wider with every new breath. 

“I want forgiveness–for everything– so, I’m here. That’s why. I’m not here with the Empire, I’m not here for anything else but you.” There were tears in Cody’s eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. 

Yet, Obi-Wan’s anger only grew, overwhelming the guilt, and curling over him like a blanket. 

Suffocating.

Cody seemed to think that there was room to explore the steaming coals of what was left of their relationship, to recover what had been lost ten years before. Though time had passed, nothing could heal the wound that Cody left when he raised his arms, pointing toward Obi-Wan’s position and ordering his murder. What was Cody thinking coming to Tatooine with hope brimming in his eyes?

Obi-Wan hesitated to think his forgiveness would come so easily.

Nausea spread in Obi-Wan’s stomach threatening to make him retch on his floor. 

A long pause filled the space, piercing into Obi-Wan’s consciousness like a sharp-ended spear. He couldn’t stand to say nothing. Couldn’t allow Cody to keep staring at him, hoping, waiting for mercy that Obi-Wan could not find it in himself to give. 

Not yet.

He reached for the oldest Jedi excuse in the galaxy.

“I need to meditate. Excuse me,” he said, voice only just over a whisper, and he pushed out past the entrance of the cave.

He ignored the eyes burning a hole in his back and sat heavily on the ledge where he often ate his meals, watching over the long planes of sand that led to the twin suns. 

He had not lied about meditating, but it wasn’t like it used to be. There was no Force to guide him into a place of comfort. No, it was simply a time of reflection, and, these days, self-loathing unchecked by the balance of the Force. 

He closed his eyes, tried to center himself in his own thoughts and feelings. In just a moment, the rage calmed from its swell, fading into something like frustration and despair. 

Cody.  

He hadn’t believed he would ever say that name aloud again. If he was fully honest with himself, he’d sworn to never think of that name again or the person it was attached to. To think of Cody meant acknowledging the hurt and the pain, dangerous feelings he had tried to replace with bitterness instead. 

Breathing in and out, counting, over and over again until his heart rate settled, Obi-Wan allowed his thoughts to creep into the crevices of his mind he hadn’t visited in years intentionally. 

“Sir–Obi-wan.” Cody rolled over in bed, facing Obi-Wan. His bare chest prickled with goosebumps and he smiled languidly. “Come over here.” 

Obi-Wan hesitated. “Oh?” he asked with a teasing smile. Cody rolled his eyes. 

“If you want me to work for it just say so,” Cody said, and shifted forward, strong arms enclosing around Obi-Wan’s waist and pulling him across the bed. 

Obi-Wan laughed as he buried his face in Cody’s neck. He smelled faintly of sweat and the GAR body soap, but mostly of himself–something sweet and musky.

They stayed like that for ten minutes–not that Obi-Wan was counting–but it was longer than they usually had to languish in bed. He soaked in the moment like a sponge, tracing the outline of Cody’s jaw, then chest, then down to the waistband of his underwear.

“I’d stay like this forever, if I could,” Obi-Wan whispered into the skin of Cody’s neck. The words were said without the conditions of sobriety and gravitas, but he meant them. The war was constant, always just a few steps away from them, threatening their every move, but to think of a life beyond it–Obi-Wan could only imagine that with Cody. Sure, the Jedi Order had his loyalty, but Cody did too. 

And unlike the Jedi–Cody didn’t come with an instruction manual and laws and rules to learn–no, Cody was a person to explore, nuanced and emotional.

“I would too–but the mess will close before we get breakfast if we don’t get up soon. I know how much you hate eating ration bars more than twice a day.” 

The grounding arms curled around Obi-Wan disappeared, and Cody slunk from the bed, shedding his briefs as he headed for the fresher door. 

The memory passed over Obi-Wan briefly–just a fleeting moment among thousands. 

He swallowed and tried to control the spiraling nostalgic anguish that burned through his stomach. 

Cody found Obi-Wan’s home strange.

Unsettling. 

Sure–living in a cave was strange in itself–but it wasn’t that. No, Obi-Wan’s home was nearly empty. 

In fact, it didn’t seem like anyone lived there at all. 

It had been days, and Cody had yet to see Obi-Wan eat a bite of food, even though he always had a few rations out for Cody to make for himself. He hadn’t seen Obi-Wan bathe, or read a book, or even sip tea out of one the mugs Cody had caught a glimpse of when he had slyly looked through a few of the cabinets. 

Obi-Wan moved through his home like a ghost–his presence having no effect on the objects around him, but still he lingered everywhere.

For the most part, Cody watched him and followed him around as directed. Obi-Wan operated no different than a soldier, driven by directives and processes. He worked with efficiency, like every movement he made was purposeful. 

They barely spoke, save for the few times Cody had ventured to ask a question. Typically, Obi-Wan didn’t have much to say, not after Cody’s plea for forgiveness.

Something told Cody that he’d done something wrong– said something wrong–but he couldn’t quite place a finger on where his mistake had been made. 

Perhaps it was wrong for him to have assumed Obi-Wan wanted to see him at all. They had something–not quite labeled at the time–but they had been something more than friends in the last days of the war. Cody still remembered the way Obi-Wan’s skin felt under his fingertips, and the way Obi-Wan’s hair smelled of musky pine after he washed it. 

He could barely imagine that Obi-Wan could forget the moments they shared together, wrapped in each other’s arms, legs entangled. 

But then again, it had been ten years. Ten years could change things and people more than Cody cared to admit. 

It was three days after his arrival when he decided to try a real conversation, breaking through the awkward silence by clearing his throat. 

“Obi-Wan.”

The man in question had entered his home covered in a thick layer of dust; his hair had changed from auburn to a dusty blonde with all of the sand. His skin looked dry, and Cody could see the little wrinkles in his forehead when he frowned.

Obi-Wan hung his dusty cloak and pack on the single, crooked hook nailed into the wall. “It’s Ben.” 

Cody’s throat felt dry.

Because he wasn’t Ben. 

Ben was the name of the soulless being that Obi-Wan had created as a facade.

“ Ben– ” Cody said nonetheless. “I don’t want to stay here unless you find me something to do. I can stay here and clean your house, or keep watch of the boy–or, I can get a job. I cannot continue to take advantage of your kindness.” 

Obi-Wan grimaced and pushed past Cody, headed for the small reservoir of water he kept in the kitchen. “You don’t need to work to earn your keep–you’re a guest.” 

A guest. The implication stung.

Because Cody hadn’t come with the intention of being just a guest.

“I–I’ve already outstayed my welcome. Please– Ben– let me work, or provide something for you during my stay.” 

Obi-Wan filled his tattered canteen with water, then considered the tank with another pronounced frown. He looked up at Cody. “If you insist–then you can take this to be refilled tomorrow. I’ll give you the credits.” 

Cody felt a smile creep onto his face. “Thank you,” he said, relieved Obi-Wan had conceded. 

Before he had the chance to say another word– before he had a chance to ask Obi-Wan about his day– Obi-Wan had disappeared out of the cave, headed for his usual perch on a portion of the stone that jutted out over the desert. 

The walk into Anchohead was long. While Obi-Wan had an old speeder hidden away, he insisted Cody walk. It was far more inconspicuous than riding into town on the same old, beat up machine only Obi-Wan had ever been seen riding. Cody agreed, not wanting to bring any threats back to Obi-Wan.

At the very least it gave him time to think.

To plan, ponder even.  

There was an invisible, impenetrable wall between them, standing too tall and wide to break down easily. Cody figured it would be easier, particularly with their years of history, but Obi-Wan had yet to let his guard down even a measly inch. 

Cody remembered a time when the wall between them hadn’t existed at all.

“You’re bothered about something,” Obi-Wan said through an amused smile, fingers tickling at the collar of the dapper black suit he wore.

They were crammed into a large ballroom in the Jedi temple, awaiting the first toast of the night. It had been a planned celebration of a string of newly signed treaties and the destruction of another Separatist base. In Codys’ perspective, it was nothing more than a load of pretentious banthashit. 

Cody wore his own suit–a green military uniform the GAR had given him when he had earned the rank of Commander. He hadn’t worn it yet, and he felt stiff underneath its creased folds and perfectly tailored buttons. 

So yes, something was bothering him.

“How can you tell?” Cody gritted out under his breath, trying to avoid eye contact with any onlookers. The last thing he wanted was to get wrapped up in some lifeless conversation about politics.

Obi-Wan hummed, a little smirk still on his lips, “You don’t like your greens?” 

Cody watched Obi-Wan bite his bottom lip, the skin darkening to a shade of pink he couldn’t resist. Obi-Wan’s beard was trimmed down to a short length only a touch longer than stubble, and a lock of auburn hair trailed over his forehead. He was perfect, undeniably beautiful in every way.

Magnetic. 

Cody’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. 

“Not exceptionally,” He finally answered, voice low and gruff, “My whole back itches.”

Obi-Wan leaned in close, lips close enough to the outer shell of Cody’s ear that it sent shivers racing down his spine. 

“Maybe we need to get you out of those, then, yeah?” 

Cody hadn’t hesitated a second, eyes locking with Obi-Wan’s.

Obi-Wan’s grasp on his arm scalded Cody as he was led through the crowd.

The recollection was clear, although it had been ten years. They had been in sync then. It was intuition, their movements blending together seamlessly like an impressionist oil painting. The result was something colorful and cohesive, yet it didn’t hail from rules and perfectly placed strokes. They were something unexplainable, virtually an anomaly.

The magic of it–the unthinking ease–was a little spark that had kept them running back to each other time and time again. Now, it was all but a burnt match tossed to the side. 

Cody considered this as he struggled with the heavy, large container filled with water where it fit snugly against his back. Obi-Wan had offered him a homemade contraption to carry back the water, but he had failed to describe just how difficult it was to balance while the water sloshed around. He struggled with it for hours, trying to find a way to balance it without his back creaking under its weight.

The walk back to Obi-Wan’s home took twice as long as it had to come to Anchorhead. It took long enough that he returned after Obi-Wan had already arrived back from work, though Cody was surprised he hadn’t seen him in passing on the way back to the homestead. 

Cody dumped the large container onto the floor next to its stand in the corner of the kitchen, feeling Obi-Wan’s gaze on his back. 

“You’re earlier than I thought you would be,” he said, standing still with his arms tucked into a long blue cloak that was reminiscent of the brown ones he had worn during the war. 

Cody just grunted, making quick work of the container to fill his empty canteen; he hadn’t had anything to drink in hours, and his throat was drier than it had ever been. 

“Well–I was trying to make myself useful. Objective achieved, I guess,” Cody grumbled, not holding back the sardonic tone he’d usually keep under wraps. It was hard not to, not when the shell of Obi-Wan was scrutinizing him like he was an imposter.  

Surprisingly, Obi-Wan raised an amused eyebrow. “Yes. Objective achieved,” Obi-Wan said, coming to assist with lifting the large metal container onto its stand. 

“I have thought of something you can do,” Obi-Wan said, standing up and standing awkwardly just a short distance from Cody.

Cody looked up–not quite ready to stand after walking through hot sand for hours. “A job?” he asked, but Obi-Wan shook his head.

“If you’re going to stay here, as my guest, I feel as though this space could feel more…” Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off and he shrugged, fingers rubbing absently at his unruly beard.

“Homey?” Cody supplied, but only because it was true–Obi-Wan’s house wasn’t the most welcoming place to stay. It was as if Obi-Wan had only done the bare minimum to make it liveable. Not a single decoration or personal item of significance lined the walls or shelves. 

“I suppose so.” Obi-Wan sighed. “I haven’t had a guest yet–and I don’t think I need much myself, but I suppose while you’re here, you deserve to feel welcome. Perhaps you could fix up those holes?” Obi-Wan said while pointing at a few noticeable holes in the side of the kitchen wall, “Or install some makeshift doors?” 

Obi-Wan seemed hesitant suddenly, like he had finally realized that he was only prolonging Cody’s stay by giving him something to do. “But you don’t have to–of course.” 

“No! No, I’m happy to help with anything you need fixed. I could even make you a bed frame so you won’t have to sleep on the floor?” 

Obi-Wan noticeably winced, like the mention of a creature comfort was too much for him to handle. But, still, the man was kind enough to say, “I– thank you.” 

But with that, Obi-Wan was gone again.

The rejection–whether intentional or not–still burned.

Two days later, Cody went to Anchorhead again with a sudden urge to get out of the monotony of the desert for a change. 

Those two days had been spent in an uncomfortable quietness. Obi-Wan was much like tooka, mindlessly moving, stalking through his dwelling without so much of a sound. Not to mention, his appearances mostly revolved around meal times and filling up mugs of tea, which he always took away from the kitchen and out of view of Cody. 

Cody observed, lips shut tightly together as his eyes tracked Obi-Wan’s ventures through his cave. He hadn’t earned Obi-Wan’s trust, he hadn’t even earned Obi-Wan’s listening ear. 

Perhaps it was in an effort to force a conversation, or maybe he just wanted to feel needed, but Cody found himself staring at a bucket of fresh-seeming fish, wondering if Obi-Wan might appreciate a home-cooked meal. 

“I’ll make dinner tonight,” Cody announced when Obi-Wan arrived home from his work. Cody  held up the small sack of ingredients he’d bartered for with the bag of semi-valuable relics Rex had given him to use instead of credits for Obi-Wan to see.

It didn’t seem like welcome news, not when Obi-Wan grimaced at the words, gesturing toward the box of meal packs placed on the small kitchen counter. “You didn’t need to waste your money, Cody. We have plenty to eat.” 

“That’s hardly food, Ben.” He opened the sack, delivering a small quantity of meat and fresh fruits and vegetables onto the table. 

Obi-Wan raised a questioning eyebrow when Cody produced a meiloorun. “It was always your favorite,” Cody said, smiling softly when he noticed Obi-Wan’s cheeks had turned just the slightest shade of pink. 

Cody missed that shade of pink. 

“This really wasn’t necessary,” Obi-Wan said, voice gravelly.

“Not everything needs to be done out of necessity. When’s the last time you truly enjoyed something?” His question was followed by a telling silence. So, was it intentional then? He’d predicted it the moment he stepped into the cave; Obi-Wan was punishing himself. 

Cody used the makeshift stove to cook the vegetables first. The welcome aroma of cooking food filled the cave, distracting from its usual musty smell. When he cooked the fish, he seasoned it with the dried herbs he’d purchased, making sure to get everything perfectly to Obi-Wan’s taste; the man had always preferred his meat well-seasoned and seared to the perfect shade of brown. 

Hells, he even brought out both of Obi-Wan’s nicest plates for the occasion. 

From the other side of the cave, sat gingerly in his creaky, old rocking chair, Obi-Wan watched. His blue eyes followed Cody’s every move, and once, Cody even noticed him smiling just with a single corner of his mouth. 

His own hesitant smile painted across his lips, Cody clutched the two plates and stepped out of the kitchen into what Obi-Wan had called the living room. Really, it was just two chairs stuck in between the walls of the cave.

“Here,” he said, extending the plate to Obi-Wan who took it with slightly shaking fingers. “Eat up.” 

Cody sat, digging into his own food with a passion that he hadn’t quite expected from himself. It had been a long time since he’d eaten something he had chosen for himself. 

It reminded him of the times he had cooked in Obi-Wan’s tiny kitchen in his quarters on the Negotiator. Cody remembered the spicy and sweet flavors of Obi-Wan’s favorite dish that he knew how to make by heart, and the wafting smell of fresh baked biscuits they tried to make once a month. 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan murmured a minute later. “This is–did you buy spices?” 

“Yes. I know you like your food well-seasoned.” 

Cody looked up to find Obi-Wan eating for the first time since his arrival. As relieving as it was, one hearty meal wouldn’t be enough to put meat back on Obi-Wan’s bones.

“Good?” he asked once he had scraped his own plate clean.

“Ah, yes. Better than a mealpack by all accounts,” Obi-Wan said stiffly, standing to collect the plates.

“Do you remember when we used to cook in your quarters on the Negotiator? I don’t know how many times you burned our food, but it was at least once a week.” He followed Obi-Wan to the kitchen, hoping the lightness of his tone coaxed something other than stiff words from Obi-Wan’s mouth. 

“I remember,” Obi-Wan said with no further elaboration, his voice distant. His face fell into a frown as he placed the dirtied plates into a neat stack.

“Do you?” Cody challenged him, because since he arrived, Obi-Wan only ever just remembered things. He never had anything to add, no memories to speak of himself. 

It felt like he’d forgotten. 

Cody hated it; the lifeless answers from the ghastly shell of the Obi-Wan Kenobi he once knew. Obi-Wan wasn’t always hesitant to talk, but he never offered anything of substance, like everything he said was carefully run through a filter so that nothing of significance could possibly be revealed. 

It made Cody’s blood boil. 

“I do.” Obi-Wan said, not even looking in Cody’s direction. 

Of course, there was nothing more to say.

CHAPTER 2

It ultimately became normal to live with someone else–to live with Cody.  

Though, it was vastly different from the close quarters they had often shared during the war. 

It was a larger space, and undeniably less dangerous. While the Tuskens were initially a threat, Obi-Wan now understood the terms and boundaries that kept them from raiding another’s land, and outside of the looming darkness of the Empire that tainted the galaxy, most other threats were minimal. 

Like a dance, they floated around each other in Obi-Wan’s cave, sometimes exchanging a thoughtful observation of the happenings under the Tatooine suns, or commenting on the likelihood of the latest sandstorm the weather vane was predicting. Often, their conversations would drift back to moments shared on long-unknown planets and within the walls of the Negotiator. 

Mostly, the memories Cody shared were fond, but they still didn’t sit right in Obi-Wan’s bones. How could he have ever enjoyed those moments knowing what was to come?

But it didn’t matter, because Cody seemed happy to tell the smallest story, lamenting over the times they had started needless skirmishes, and chuckling about the times they’d found themselves under the stunned gaze of one of Cody’s brothers after engaging in an embrace that lasted just a few seconds too long. 

Despite Obi-Wan’s initial hesitations, he almost began to grow more fond of reminiscing too. There was a vast library of regrets and joys to explore, to relive again in a time where none of it mattered, but all of it breathed life into his heart at the same time. 

He’d come to love the tiny creases that lined Cody’s eyes and spread across his cheeks. He loved the way Cody stood, acting out the times where he had been forced to dodge blaster fire in the middle of an open field. He’d come to love the little rounds of belly-deep laughter they shared late into the evening hours, long past when the suns had set. 

“You’ll work with me,” he said one day, when Cody was lamenting about not having work.

Cody had finished every feasible chore there was left to do in the cave, and had done it with an enthusiasm that forced Obi-Wan’s eyebrows high on his face. Cody had created a door, patched up the holes in the walls that let the desert chill in at night –hells, he had even gone so far to make the kitchen functional enough to cook daily meals that weren’t just from a mealpack.

“With you?” Cody asked incredulously over a bowl of steaming soup, his voice almost an octave higher, like he was surprised. 

“Yes, meat-harvesting. Calpen will give you a job on my asking. He trusts me,” Obi-Wan said, taking his first spoonful of soup. He hated to admit to himself that Cody’s cooking was far better than anything he would have been able to make for himself. 

“What’s caused your sudden change of heart? Just two days ago you were insisting I shouldn’t even go to Anchorhead anymore.” 

Cody was right–he had said that–but only because he had seen Owen glancing at him suspiciously the last time he and Cody had entered the town. While Owen wasn’t a tool of the Empire, he would do anything in Luke’s best interest–or what he thought was Luke’s best interest. If it meant ratting out Cody, or even Obi-Wan to the Empire, Owen surely would do it in a heartbeat. 

But somewhere beyond his fear, there was compassion mixed with a touch of selfishness.

Because he didn’t want Cody to leave.  

Cody had become a glimmer of light slipping through the cracks of a dark room. He burned brightly, a candle that had somehow learned to become the sun. Cody’s warmth buried itself into Obi-Wan’s chest, holding him captive.

No, he didn’t want Cody to leave.

Now that the cave had been fixed, and with no chores left to occupy him, Cody was surely thinking of leaving.

“I want–you need a job. To work for your accommodation,” He said instead, lying through his teeth with a grunt, because he wasn’t ready for Cody to know about the inner workings of his thoughts.

Cody smiled, and it seemed more genuine than it had in many weeks. 

Cody seemed to think the job was enjoyable, at least that’s what he said over breakfast, now seven weeks since his arrival. 

Not that Obi-Wan had been counting. He certainly hadn’t.

“You have no idea, Ben. It’s cathartic, nothing like the banthashit the Empire made me do.” Cody shook his head and scraped his bowl of porridge with a spoon.

Obi-Wan could hardly share his enthusiasm, as chopping up bits of nearly rotten meat became far less enjoyable after years and years of ten-hour shifts in the blazing afternoon heat, but he smiled and nodded all the same, admiring Cody’s magnetic vivacity.  

That morning they rode together into Anchohead, bodies pressed so close together. It was the first time Obi-Wan noticed it–the closeness, the way Cody’s breath passed over the skin of his neck in little puffs, the way Cody’s arms wrapped perfectly around his waist, fingers jutting into his stomach. 

He kept his eyes forward and his thoughts buried so deep that he hoped he wouldn’t find them again.

The day dragged on longer than most, the temperature having been several degrees higher than usual, and the sun burning down so hotly on the back of his neck. He could practically imagine himself melting into a puddle on the sand. 

Obi-Wan felt sweat dripping from his forehead and down the sides of his cheeks. It pooled at the bottom of his back beneath his shirt, and his pants stuck to his legs noticeably every time he moved.

A glance over at Cody, who stood several men over from him, showed he wasn’t nearly as bothered by the heat. Only a light sheen of sweat formed on Cody’s forehead, and his eyes didn’t seem to stray from his work like Obi-Wan’s had been for hours. 

Obi-Wan’s throat was dry, as was his skin, and he hoped Calpen would call for a break soon; the dryness in his throat, the knowledge that his sweat was wasting water he could not afford to lose was possibly the only thing on his mind. A moment in the shade to rest. A drink.

Another hour passed, and the dryness– the dehydration– he assumed, only grew stronger. He was sure now that Calpen was leading them on–making them suffer just for the sake of it. Typically, they were allowed at least a couple of minutes to drink from their canteens.

He ignored the second, third, and fourth concerned glance from Cody, now regretting that he had ever offered to get him the job in the first place. There was nothing that bothered Obi-Wan more than Cody’s wide, sorrow-filled eyes watching over him like he was meant to be pitied.  

Focus, he demanded of himself, trying to make his wandering blurry eyes fixate on the piece of meat he was slicing. It was dangerous to not focus when a sharp object was in hand. 

“Ben!” he heard, not a second later.

It only felt like a second later, at least. 

Then there was a hand on his collar–not Calpen’s hand, but one of his minions who stalked around, watching for any drop in productivity.

Kriff!

If he didn’t feel so feverish, muscles unnaturally weak, he would have fought back and torn the hand away from where it latched onto his clothes. But no– the heat felt like an impenetrable force, squeezing the life from him with barely a hint of effort.

The hand tugged him backward, dragging him away from the table. 

He stumbled awkwardly, his feet feeling heavy against the ground. “What makes you think you can stop working in the middle of the day? That’s why we pay you.” 

A protest didn’t make it past Obi-Wan’s lips before he was thrown to the ground. 

He came down hard, head plummeting against the wooden platform that kept their tables from sinking into the sand. His arm smashed into the leg of the table with a distinct crack that was immediately followed by a shooting pain racing down his forearm, all the way to his wrist. 

For a moment, everything around him went black, including the noise of sudden, horrified voices. He basked in the emptiness, letting it close around him.

It was far better than the searing pain he’d been struck with seconds earlier. 

But then– 

“Kriff you! What–”

Kriff. 

It was Cody’s voice–loud and shrill in his pounding skull–and Obi-Wan let his eyes shoot open. He was met with the blinding brightness of the sun, and then an immediate recollection of the agonizing pain that encompassed his entire right arm. 

He barely had time to process the torment, when suddenly Cody’s head was hovering inches above his own. Even with the bleariness of his vision, Obi-Wan could still make out the concerned wrinkles on Cody’s forehead, and the way his lips moved like he might be trying to say something.

Oh–

“Ben!”

Right. 

Cody was speaking to him.  

Without thinking–he wasn’t sure he was capable of that anyway, judging by the ceaseless throbbing in the back of his skull–Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something.

“I-I’m fine,” he managed, voice hoarse. It was only another reminder he had yet to have any water. 

The reminder that he could not afford the loss of any more fluids did nothing to quell the wave of nausea.

“No, this isn’t fine. Your arm– Kriff.” 

Cody’s worry was replaced with panic, his facial features pinched but eyes wide with fear. 

“We’re leaving,” he heard Cody bark, suddenly gone from his field of vision, “–I don’t care about the kriffing pay– we’re leaving. ” 

For once, Obi-Wan agreed with leaving without pay. To hell with his pay for the day! Calpen would allow him back regardless, always desperate for willing workers. He wasn't sure he would make it another minute in this condition, much less another three hours of work. 

Pain spiked again, now crawling up from his wrist to his elbow, but it was nothing compared to the pulsing headache that gripped him behind his eyes. His skin still leaked sweat. His mouth felt as dry as the sand underneath him. 

He wasn’t sure how, but Cody managed to get him to his feet. Obi-Wan allowed an arm slung across his lower back, tucking his arm tight to his chest to prevent it from moving. Obi-Wan ignored the way Cody manhandled his other arm across his shoulders because it allowed them to move without jostling the fresh break. They only stopped moving when they reached the port for their transport back to Anchorhead. There, Cody helped Obi-Wan drop down onto an empty bench. 

Obi-Wan sat heavily, the radiating pain failing to decrease in its significance. 

“Here, please drink,” Cody said suddenly, voice distant for someone speaking practically in Obi-Wan’s ear. 

Obi-Wan blinked open his eyes, not realizing he had closed them to begin with. Cody was crouched in front of him, his worried eyes almost in line with Obi-Wan’s. He held out his open canteen close to Obi-Wan’s lips. 

In any other circumstance, Obi-Wan would have protested, but he was sure heat exhaustion was going to deem him unable to function if he didn’t get a few sips of water into his body. 

“Is there–are there doctors in Anchorhead? Clinics?” Cody asked, the transport now visible in the distance. 

Obi-Wan knew there were clinics, but they weren’t ones he was willing to visit openly. Several of them were run by the Empire, and even the ones that weren’t were subsidized by Imperial funds. In any case, he wasn’t willing to risk it.

“No,” he answered simply, wincing as Cody helped him stand. Even sitting still, the radiating pain of his–presumably–broken arm was undeniable and distracting. 

The time it took to board the transport back to Anchorhead, then to sit precariously on his eopie– felt quicker than it had in a long time, and Obi-Wan was unsure if it was because of the head injury, or pulsating pain that settled deep in forearm that distracted him from thinking too much about the time. 

Cody was eerily silent, save for his few mutters of, I’m sorry, whenever Obi-Wan winced. 

The silence continued until they came to a stop outside his home. 

“Stay there for a moment, Ben,” Cody said gently, his fingertips gliding across the sweaty skin of his forehead. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know what Cody was doing–his eyes closed from the blinding burning suns–but suddenly, there were hands on his waist.

He jolted–a mistake– and Cody swore. 

“Kriff– sorry, General.” 

General. 

If his head didn’t ache with such intensity he might have corrected Cody. But the address felt vaguely comforting. For a moment, he found himself back in the war, in the care of Cody after he had been released from the medbay. Many times he had limped back to his quarters of the Negotiator with Cody’s arm wrapped around his waist. 

General, just rest. Let me take care of you.

He remembered the way Cody would lay with him, curled by his side as his burns and lacerations soaked in bacta. He’d never leave, not without a gentle kiss to Obi-Wan’s forehead and the promise of food when he returned. 

“Ben? Let’s get you inside, out of the sun.” 

Obi-Wan blinked at the older, more weathered version of Cody who clung to his waist as he helped him off of his eopie. Though he had aged, the same look still remained in Cody’s eyes. Compassion and a hint of worry behind deep brown irises. 

Cody led him to the entrance to the cave, past the kitchen and toward his chair in the living room. 

“Sit,” Cody murmured softly, and Obi-Wan did without question. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice in the matter anyway. He was still soaked with sweat–the afternoon sun doing him no favors–and the headache blazing behind his eyes had only become stronger with time. 

His arm ached and throbbed as he moved it ever so slightly, simply rotating the joint of his shoulder. Even this slight irritation of the bones in his forearm made him hiss from the splitting, violent, agony. 

Still, being inside was a large improvement. At the very least, sitting was enough to quell the nausea that had been burning in his stomach for hours.

“Let’s get you out of some of these clothes. You’re soaked through,” Cody whispered, hands already tugging at the shawl draped over his shoulders. 

Obi-Wan allowed the intrusion, refraining from commenting as Cody helped him unbuckle his belt, pulling it from his waist. Obi-Wan wished he could shuck off his sweat-soaked tunic as well, but he knew just as well as Cody that it would be difficult to remove with the state of his arm. 

Cody pulled his boots off, then his socks, even rolling up the legs of his pants before pulling a vibroknife from his belt.

Of course, Obi-Wan knew he couldn’t leave the wet fabric on his skin forever, but it wasn’t his first choice for Cody to cut through the fabric. He didn't have many sets of extra clothes to spare. 

“Sorry, “ Apologized Cody, invading Obi-Wan’s space for a moment and running the blade of the knife along the front of the tunic, then the arms. Obi-Wan held his breath until Cody’s hands gently pulled away the fabric that clung to his arm, but was relieved when it barely stung at all. 

Cody seemed equally relieved and offered an empathetic smile. 

“I’ll grab some water, then I’ll need to set that, ” Cody gestured toward Obi-Wan’s arm where he had gingerly rested it against the armrest of the chair. “If it’s misaligned. How is the pain?” 

It had been so long– years– since Obi-Wan had been asked about his pain. 

“I–my head feels…” 

“Bad?” Cody supplied. Obi-Wan nodded, then flinched. “And your arm?” 

“Broken. It hurts, ” The words were gritted out through his teeth. 

Cody grimaced, seemingly displeased with the answer. “I’ll be right back. Stay there, please. ”

Obi-Wan wouldn’t have dreamed of moving, but Cody was remembering the war, back when Obi-wan would have done anything to get himself out of medical attention he didn’t deem strictly necessary. 

Obi-Wan had once hated the slow pace of recovery–he never wanted to let anyone down by having to sit out of a fight. How many times had he wrapped up his own bleeding wounds in bacta-soaked bandages, already out the door of the medbay before anyone could stop him?

He felt differently now–there was no one to let down but himself. There was no urgency to recover, no desire to pick himself up and keep going against the odds. Cody remembered him to be a whirlwind of passion. Surely he would be disappointed to find that Obi-Wan had left that quality behind in the aftermath of the war?

“Here, drink some more.” Cody appeared from wherever he had gone, holding Obi-Wan’s canteen filled to the brim with water. 

With his good hand, Obi-Wan brought it to his lips, drinking greedily. 

“Can I…?” Cody said, motioning again toward Obi-Wan’s throbbing arm. 

If he could, Obi-Wan would have said no, but instead he nodded.

“Oh…” Cody murmured, and his eyes grew wide. Obi-Wan tried not to focus on the agony caused by the pads of Cody’s fingertips drifting over the tender skin. It hurt, even the gentlest of touches over top of the bone.

He only barely held back a whimper.

“I’m sorry. I know it hurts.” Cody’s voice was soft and slightly shaky. “Do you think–do you think the bone is displaced?”

Obi-Wan–through distracting waves of radiating pain–tried to think. It hadn’t felt like he’d completely broken the bone in half, the pain more akin to the times he had endured hairline fracture in a past life. Not to mention, visually, it didn’t appear to show any displacement. So, he made his best guess, and shook his head once, wincing again with the aborted motion. 

Worst case, it would have to be broken again to fix it, and with his head swimming, he couldn’t be damned to think about how much more pain that would involve. 

“I don’t think it needs to be set then, but I’ll have to make a splint.”

Cody certainly had rudimentary medical knowledge from his time in the GAR. Obi-Wan had been on the receiving end of it many times. 

Cody stood and walked around the cave, returning after several minutes with a roll of cloth that Obi-Wan used as leg wraps, and a few pieces of plastoid Obi-Wan had stashed away in a trunk. 

Working slowly, with an unsure frown on his lips, Cody pressed one plastoid sheet around the base of his arm, cradling it, then secured a smaller piece around his elbow. 

Obi-Wan kept quiet until Cody had tied his arm down, and then gently helped Obi-Wan move it to rest on his opposite shoulder, to help keep it as still as possible in the splint. 

“Do you think you have painkillers? A hypo? Bacta?” Cody asked, surely interpreting that the wide-eyed stare on Obi-Wan’s face was almost certainly pain related. 

Obi-Wan liked to think he wasn’t being obvious, but he apparently was. Still, it had been some time since he’d experienced pain in a way other than an occasional throb from his aging joints. 

Obi-Wan wished he could shake his head, tell Cody no, he didn't have anything of the sort, but he did. It was for emergencies. Possibly emergencies involving Luke. 

But surely, this counted as a justifiable emergency. He could potentially replace the hypo before it was missed. The oldest was likely nearing its expiration date anyway. 

He moved his eyes to the right, nodding at a shelf hastily attached to the wall. “A hypo. In there, I-I think,” Obi-Wan stuttered with another half-abandoned wince. “Get the oldest one.”

Obi-Wan watched as Cody found three hypos tucked inside of a fairly sparse medkit, which notably, was barely larger than Cody’s hand. Obi-Wan counted himself lucky he hadn’t run into any major trouble, thus far, because he was certain the contents would not be enough to fix almost any medical issue–not anything worse than a minor laceration. He’d have to fix that at some point when his arm wasn’t broken.

But still, a hypo could stave off infections. An infection he could ill-afford. The benefits for pain management were almost negligible in the wake of it. But no less welcome for being a side-benefit. 

Cody plucked one hypo from the kit, handling it with care as he carefully read the instructions on the side with a scrutinizing eye. He had always been a stickler for the rules, for propriety and standards. 

“Ready?” Cody asked once he was finished, holding the hypo above the big vein in Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan didn’t hesitate to offer a brief nod.

Cody’s hands were gentle, his calloused fingers pressing against the skin, testing the spot to make sure he’d found the right vein to inject the hypo in. The touch brought gooseflesh to Obi-Wan’s skin and sent a strange shock down his spine. Even as Cody pressed the hypo into his neck, Obi-Wan couldn’t shake the strange sensation that rolled through his veins like unrelenting waves.

It had been so long since he’d felt something so primal –the spike of attraction–that he had almost forgotten how physical the sensation could be. 

Even before the effects of the hypo began to reduce the pain, Obi-Wan had almost forgotten it, too preoccupied with unraveling the sharp explosion of fondness that had appeared as suddenly as a ghost. 

“Alright, Si–Ben? Is it working? I was afraid it might have expired–” 

“No. No. It’s working.” Obi-Wan blinked at Cody, who’d crouched in front of him again, worried eyes wide and lips pulled into a telling frown. The pain subsided, melted into something muted and just bearable enough that the curls in Cody’s hair and the little wrinkles that had stolen the space beside his eyes. 

Suddenly, it was clear that this man was Cody. 

The Cody Obi-Wan remembered was here, in this man’s soft touches and worried eyes. His infinite care, not only of Obi-Wan’s person, but for his comfort too.

“I–” Cody’s jaw hung open, then he shut it, mouth curling into a watery half-smile. “I’m sorry that happened–”

“It’s not your fault.” Obi-Wan breathed out, eyes heavy as his relief grew. Cody didn’t seem satisfied, the guilt still pressed into the watery edges of his eyes.

“I should have protected you, I should have said something, done something. ” Cody pressed his face into his palms, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to protect me. I have lived here myself for many years.” Obi-Wan spoke carefully, heart hammering inside his chest despite the control he exerted over his words. 

The incredulous look on Cody’s face as he looked up from his hands did nothing to reduce Obi-Wan’s unease. 

“I don’t think you’re incapable, Obi-Wan.” The name felt strange, hanging in the air like a ghost from a past age. “I didn’t come here to save you, I came here to be with you. Because of you. ” 

Obi-Wan knew that, somewhere in the back of his mind he had always known that Cody was there for him–for them.  

But to hear the words spoken aloud, once more, made it real.

Normally, Obi-Wan would have let the words simmer until their impact had disappeared and all that was left was a lingering silence. This time, he was compelled to say something, to ease the confusion and frustration that pulled at every curve of Cody’s face. 

“I–” The words caught in his throat. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you came… for me.” 

Cody smiled. It was the same kind of smile he once had, when Obi-Wan brought him caf in the morning, a smile filled with trust and intimacy and fondness.  

It had appeared in thousands of little moments in their life together, but yet, Obi-Wan said nothing. 

Somehow, this silence wasn’t like the others–this time it was pleasant, an ode to past times where they had coexisted in the quiet. 

Obi-Wan had forgotten how much he liked the comfort of aired feelings and nothing left to say.

After a moment, Cody stood, fingers trapping a loose piece of Obi-Wan’s long hair before tucking it behind his ear, a gesture that only this morning would have caused Obi-Wan to recoil, but this time he leaned into it. 

“Remember how Skull used to have my neck when I let things like this happen to you?” 

It had been a long time since Obi-Wan had thought about the 212th’s clone medic.

“Oh, yes. You would almost believe he was more angry with you than me,” Obi-Wan answered, remembering the angry lines on Skull’s forehead anytime Obi-Wan arrived at the doors of the medbay. 

“That’s because it wasn’t any use being angry with you, you were unfixable. A menace. I was your minder.” Cody laughed– a laugh that resounded oddly between the walls of Obi-Wan’s cave.

Obi-Wan didn’t think his cave had ever heard the echoes of laughter before. 

For another six weeks, Obi-Wan didn’t work. Calpen wouldn’t have allowed him back with a damaged arm, and Cody had insisted he pick up extra work instead for the time being. 

Obi-Wan’s daily routine shifted into small domestic tasks, unburdened by the restraints of a strict schedule. 

Often, he found himself watching for Luke in the early hours of the morning when the boy was assigned to his chores. For years, Obi-Wan had watched him in the evenings, playing outside with his parents hovering in their doorway. It was much different to watch Luke work, now ten years old. The baby Obi-Wan had brought to Tatooine was the age and ability of Anakin when he had first entered the order. 

He tried not to think about that, not for more than a few solemn minutes, at least.

Obi-Wan had spent so long embroiled in bitterness–a lingering bitterness driven by the torturous last day of the war–letting it consume him from the inside out. But now? Was it truly what he wanted for himself? 

Cody was equally a part of his mourned past as Anakin had been, Qui-Gon, the Jedi Order, and all of the people whose deaths had formed his very identity on Tatooine.

Nothing more than an old exile, Owen had spat at him once. While it had stung, Obi-Wan would be daft to not recognize the truth behind the words. With every death, every regret, and the weight of the Jedi Order’s future strapped to his back, Obi-Wan had long since resolved himself to a life without a destiny. He was meant for infinite sadness, for suffering.  

But yet, Cody had come back to him, broken, but his core was the same. Cody’s soul glowed, casting a light on Obi-Wan’s shadow. 

Perhaps all hadn’t been lost afterall? Maybe there was more than living and breathing and dying, existence without purpose?

As time crept along, Cody had become something more than a roommate, Obi-Wan even dared to call him a friend. 

There was a lightness between them that hadn’t been there before and Obi-Wan found it easier to exist in his space without feeling crowded. For so many years, he had embraced solitude, pretending he preferred it.

He had apparently become very successful at lying to himself, because with each day that passed, he was reminded why companionship was more appealing.

Cooking became a nightly task, and the rest of the chores were done in tandem, the two of them tackling it in half the time. Moments of laughter were common in the evening hours after a shot of brandy and story from the war that reminded them of times long since gone. 

“You always tell it wrong!” insisted Cody, rolling his eyes. Obi-Wan mirrored the eye roll, scoffing at the notion.

“No, I certainly do not.” Obi-Wan shook his head and poked Cody’s shoulder. “It was Anakin’s fault you fell in to begin with, not mine.” 

He and Cody disagreed on the intricacies of the plot of their adventures into a quarry on Felucia with Anakin and Ahsoka in tow. “Whatever, Ben. What happened in the quarry, stays in the quarry,” Cody conceded.

Bickering felt familiar on his tongue, it came as easily as an old habit. It was an old habit, he reminded himself. 

Something about the entanglement of their voices made something burn in his chest. Perhaps it was a simple case of nostalgia, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think something had awoken inside of him. 

No, it wasn’t nostalgia, but the excitement that came with newness and resilience. 

As time passed, their lives became nearly indistinguishable, intertwined enough that there wasn’t room for Obi-Wan to pretend he didn’t appreciate the company. With every second, minute, and hour, the warmth and fondness only grew more, like ivy ceaselessly crawling over the outside of an old house. 

But with closeness came moments of vulnerability, ones Obi-Wan wished he could keep hidden. 

In ten years, his conscious memories of the bitter parts of war– of Cody– became few and far between. In the evening hours, the memories came in the form of dreams. As much as he didn’t want to relive the hours leading up to Cody’s betrayal, it became a nightly occurrence. 

Often he woke in tears, sometimes trembling awake without the sounds of his own screams. 

One night, he awoke with his heart hammering inside of chest to find Cody there, hovering over him, a candle lit in his grasp, his brown eyes wide and unreadable. He was saying something–worry lacing his tone–but Obi-Wan could hardly hear him when it still felt like he was on Utapu again, falling to his death, certain Cody had killed him. 

He was underwater, sinking deeper and deeper, the crack of blasterfire still ringing in his ears.

“Obi-Wan?” 

When the words finally became clear, sharp pangs of humiliation stabbed through his stomach.

He froze in place, his eyes wide as he attempted to hold back tears that had already begun to spill from the very corners of his eyes. It was not unlike the times during the war where he had awoken from visions and nightmares with Cody crouched there by his side, practicing hands trailing across his shoulders and cheeks. 

Except this was much worse, because this time, Cody couldn’t understand.

He felt the signs of panic gripping him, starting in his throat. Slowing his breathing, he tried to force himself to forget. It was difficult to do so with Cody’s warm eyes trained on him. It felt like a lie–the kindness situated in Cody’s form–not when Obi-Wan had just lived again his worst moment of cruelty. 

The panic only grew, curling around his limbs, choking him at the neck, drowning him without water. 

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how long it persisted. It could have been a minute or it could have been an hour, time escaping him. 

It felt like a hundred years that he clung to the soft lull of Cody’s whispered words, expecting the knot in his chest to eventually let loose. 

Eventually it did, and Cody was still there, soft voice full of reassurances. 

“Obi-Wan?” said Cody when Obi-Wan no longer felt like he was underwater.  Obi-Wan swallowed harshly, then let out the breath he had been holding. 

“I’m–I’m sorry.” The words were stuttered, barely believable, he was sure. 

“No–no. Don’t be sorry,” whispered Cody, his eyes becoming softer as he brought the candle closer to Obi-Wan, holding it up between them. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t real. It was just a dream.” 

Obi-Wan fought the urge to respond in anger, to tell Cody just how much it wasn’t a dream. It was a  real experience, one Obi-Wan just couldn’t shake, no matter how much he wanted to forget it. 

“I–I know,” he whispered instead. 

Cody looked at him questioningly, like he knew the truth was buried beneath those two words. 

But Obi-Wan could say no more about it. Not while Cody still could pretend it hadn’t happened. 

A moment of silence followed, then another ten minutes. Neither of them dared to speak; tension burning between them like an electric current. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” Cody asked after another quiet moment, his hand crawling over to press against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. His touch felt like fire licking against his skin. 

Ordinarily, he would have lied, trying to conceal the truth in an act of self-preservation, but something compelled him not to. “Often. Almost nightly. Some are worse than others.” 

He could feel the sadness he saw in Cody’s eyes. He wasn’t sure yet if it was pity or not, but he tried to make himself believe that Cody understood. 

“I have nightmares too,” said Cody eventually with his voice lower and quieter than normal. “It’s unavoidable. We’ve both been through a lot.” 

The words held an undeniable truth that Obi-Wan didn’t particularly like to admit to himself. Though the logical part of his mind convinced him that nightmares were a natural psychological response to trauma, it was the trauma part he didn’t want to deal with. 

Somehow, hearing it from Cody, whose eyes brimmed with telling tears, made him feel more willing to own up to that part. 

That night they both slept side-by-side on Obi-Wan’s bedroll, their shoulders touching and breaths syncing together, as if they were made one once more. 

Obi-Wan didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave.

If he were honest with himself, he didn’t really want Cody to leave anyway.  

CHAPTER 3:

As time passed, Cody felt affection grip him. 

It was unavoidable, undeniable. 

Routine morphed into life. They lived together, working as a team with the ease they had during the war. They operated like a well-oiled machine, all of their daily tasks molding together perfectly. As Obi-Wan returned to work, they only became more functional.

Cody thought he might be bothered by spending each of his days with the same person, but nothing about Obi-Wan was a bother. In ten years, Obi-Wan had changed enough for Cody to discover new things about him with each passing day. 

“You can knit?” His eyes grew wide as Obi-Wan casually admitted an old pastime over dinner one evening. Obi-Wan’s eyebrows rose as a small smile accompanied his red-tinted cheeks on his face. 

“You seem surprised?” Obi-Wan asked and collected their plates.

“You just don’t seem like… you would enjoy that?” Cody muttered. How many droids had he seen Obi-Wan obliterate with the swing of his lightsaber? Obi-Wan had always seemed to take great pride in originality and each unique cut of his lightsaber through the air. How could those same hands do something as passive and repetitive as knitting?

“It’s quite relaxing, something to keep my hands busy,” Obi-Wan said with a shrug as he placed the plates into their sink. “But I don’t have much time for it these days.” 

“You should make time. You can teach me.” Cody didn’t think before speaking, barely realizing he had committed himself to learning to knit. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to learn, rather, his true intentions were to find yet another way for them to spend their days together.

So, Obi-Wan taught him that night, patient as always as he helped Cody with the needles, hands cupped over the outside of Cody’s. 

Cody only caught him chuckling over his shoulder twice. 

“I don’t think I’m good at this,” said Cody after he had knitted just two poor looking rows. 

He loved the little snicker that escaped Obi-Wan’s lips, and the small shake of his head as he plucked the needles and yarn from Cody’s hands to give him another tutorial. 

Cody listened without a word, enjoying the measured tone of Obi-Wan’s voice and the way his steady hands moved around the yarn and needles with practiced ease. 

Sometimes, when they both got restless and bored of knitting and cooking, they stripped down into their innermost linens and sparred out amongst the sand. 

Cody liked the wild look in Obi-Wan’s eyes as he spun and twisted, staff in hand as he easily blocked Cody’s jabs. While both of them moved slower than they had in years past, the more time they spent practicing, the better Cody felt. It was as if he could breathe again for the first time in years.

Obi-Wan’s long hair often dripped with sweat as they twirled around each other, and a small smile would spread across his cheeks when he finally pinned Cody on his back in the sand. 

“I win,” Obi-Wan said, breathing heavily through his mouth as he hovered over top of Cody, legs straddling Cody’s waist. 

“You’re a Jedi, of course you won,” rebuked Cody, wearing a faux grimace.

“A Jedi without any connection to the Force doesn’t have much of an advantage, does he?” Obi-Wan said with a hearty laugh.

He didn’t get up, legs still pinning Cody to the ground long after their match had ended. Cody tried to quell his thoughts about the implication.

“Oh? So, your twenty plus years of combat training doesn’t count as an advantage?” Cody shot back and shoved Obi-Wan off his waist so he landed in the sand himself. Obi-Wan yelped, trying to scramble into a sitting position, but he was too late, Cody straddled him easily, spear now pressed across Obi-Wan’s shoulders instead. 

“Cody, I am but an old man now, so no, that doesn’t count, clearly.”

Cody just shook his head and admired the way Obi-Wan’s disheveled hair looked splayed across his forehead. Even in his state, sweaty and covered in a layer of sticky sand, Obi-Wan was a sight to behold. 

Cody had missed moments like this, time spent in the company of each other, alone in the universe. 

Cody slept less than Obi-Wan. He had always considered himself a night owl, but it wasn’t just that fact that had kept him up. Most nights, he was overcome with a harrowing despair that kept him up, toying with him until he was forced to rise from his bedroll in search of some distracting activity to occupy his mind. 

One night, he found himself sitting outside tinkering with a few spare parts to try and fix up an old toaster he had bought off of the Jawas. 

The breeze was cool and he breathed deeply as he felt it wash over him, cleansing him of the grief that constantly plucked at his mind late into the night. 

He was halfway through rewiring the electrical components of the toaster when he heard familiar whimpers drifting from inside the cave. It wasn’t unusual, the small discontented noises of Obi-Wan’s nightmares, but this time, they grew louder as the moments passed. 

Concern crept into Cody’s veins and he sat stiffly, fingers paused where they were tangled in wires.

Then there were screams.

Blood curdling, agonized, screams. 

His stomach fell. He stood abruptly, not hesitating to toss his project aside as he rushed into their dwelling, practiced feet taking him to Obi-Wan where he was laid on his back on a bedroll. 

Obi-Wan’s blankets were pooled around his calves. His eyes were open wide, searching for something in the distance that wasn’t there. Cody dropped to his knees, his own panic flooding through his body as he took Obi-Wan’s shoulders in his hands.

The man shook violently, almost as if he were trembling in the freezing temperatures of Hoth. 

“Obi-Wan! Ben! Wake up!” Cody shook him softly, a tactic he found to be successful when he usually woke Obi-Wan from his nightmares. Obi-Wan was gripped with nightmares several times a week, and Cody usually came to wake him now, but most of his bouts didn’t involve harsh screams and shaking arms and legs. 

“Wake up!” He repeated, hands shaking harder as he watched Obi-Wan’s head thrash from side-to-side. 

“Cody, don’t! Please, don’t!” Obi-Wan yelled out, still asleep.

The words felt heavy in Cody’s mind as he digested them. What was Obi-Wan dreaming about? 

“No, you know how this ends. I can’t die now, not yet!” Only a few seconds passed before Obi-Wan yelled again, voice loud in the silence of the desert night. 

The words felt like another stab to Cody’s heart. Whatever Obi-Wan’s dream entailed, he was suffering, and somehow Cody was involved. 

Cody shook him harder, hands then pressing over Obi-Wan’s cheek. 

He would have to forget about the words until morning, but he needed to wake Obi-Wan and allow him to break away from whatever horrors his mind had decided to put him through. 

Finally, with another harsh shake, Obi-Wan’s eyes stopped their rapid movement, replaced with a sudden awareness coupled with an audible gasp. 

Obi-Wan shot upward, sucking in large gulps of air and hands crawling into his hair to tug at the roots. Gently, Cody pried Obi-Wan fingers out of his hair with soft words spilling from his lips, “Hey. Hey, no. Look at me.” 

He tried to distract, to tilt Obi-Wan’s chin upward so they could lock eyes. 

With a soft touch, he pressed Obi-Wan’s head upward, noting the tears that had escaped the corners of his eyes. Finally, he said, “Cody?” 

Cody breathed, trying to forget Obi-Wan’s plea.

Cody, don’t! Please, don’t!

He shook the thought from his brain, focusing on the soft blue eyes in front of him. “It was just a dream, Ben. Wherever you were, you aren’t there anymore. You’re here with me, at home.”  

Obi-Wan blinked once, then brought his hands to scrub at his eyes. 

“You’re… real,” muttered Obi-Wan when he looked up again, a frown painted across his face, forehead wrinkles prominent. It was as though he hardly believed it, like Cody hadn’t come to Tatooine at all. 

“I am. Here,” Cody held out his hand, watching closely as Obi-Wan eyed it for a minute, then grasped it in his own. “See? I’m real.” 

Obi-Wan released a trembling breath, then nodded. His fingers shook in Cody’s grasp, twitching every few seconds like wanted to rip them away, but then changed his mind. 

They sat in the quiet for several minutes, not that Cody was counting them anyway. He would sit with Obi-Wan as long as he needed, even as his bones grew tired in the early morning hours. 

“Can we lay down?” murmured Obi-Wan in the midst of Cody’s eyes finally closing with exhaustion. 

Cody blinked and then offered a soft smile. The tear tracks on Obi-Wan’s face were dry, and the wildness in his eyes had changed into something of a mellow melancholy. 

“Of course.” 

It had happened several times now, but this time it came naturally. Obi-Wan laid on his side, Cody’s arm snaking over his back, grasping him around his chest. Cody allowed himself to relax into the grounding touch, the moment of unrelenting comfort and companionship. 

Obi-Wan sniffled, head pressing back into the crook of Cody’s outstretched arm. One of his hands rubbed at his eyes before he settled in, pushing closer to Cody–seemingly without thinking. Cody allowed his fingers to comb through the unruly strands of Obi-Wan’s long hair, noting the little streaks of gray that were peppered amongst the auburn. 

For a moment, Cody could have pretended he was on the Negotiator, wrapped around Obi-Wan, waiting for an inevitable beep of his comlink. There were so many times they had arranged themselves just this way, sometimes Obi-Wan curled behind Cody’s back instead. Cody remembered how much he looked forward to those hidden moments when they managed to escape the chaos that persistently kept them busy and exhausted. They had cherished those times, waiting for them in anticipation like a child waited for their gifts on their birthday. 

He shook away the thought, allowing a sigh to escape him as he settled his head into the pillow. 

“Goodnight, Obi-Wan.” 

Cody closed his eyes. 

Cody woke up warm, and oddly sweat-slick. 

For a moment, he was confused, because the desert nights weren’t exactly warm, usually causing him to wake covered in gooseflesh. However, the second he opened his eyes, he realized the cause was perched on his chest with his wild auburn hair floating across his pecs. 

His heart skipped a beat. 

Cody stared down at the top of Obi-Wan’s head, a little smile on his lips; he could even feel the little, even puffs of air emerging from Obi-Wan’s lips. He noticed the tiny flush that seemed to stretch from Obi-Wan’s neck all the way up to the top of his exposed cheek.

He held his breath, like if he let it out, this new reality would be revealed to be a dream. 

Many times they had shared a small cot or bedroll, legs intertwined and arms slung over each other. At the time, he hadn’t appreciated those soft, morning moments shared between them; all he’d been able to think about was how sweaty his sleep pants were, rather than how privileged he was to still be holding onto Obi-Wan when he awoke. 

It felt like a breath of fresh air, a return to form, to find Obi-Wan enclosed in his arms once again. 

Obi-Wan shifted, a small moan escaping his lips as he lifted his head up just an inch. 

“Morning,” Cody ventured, holding his breath, worried even this small greeting was a misstep, would set them back. 

Obi-Wan stopped moving for a fraction of a second–then turned his head so Cody could just see the very corner of his bright blue eyes.

Obi-Wan’s cheeks were bright pink.

And quickly turning into something more reminiscent of a deep red. 

Cody felt heat rising to his own cheeks. 

Neither of them wore shirts, their sweat-slick skin pressing against each other as they breathed together.

“Oh, good morning, Cody,” Obi-Wan said, then pushed himself upward so he was perched on his side, elbow digging into the bedroll below him. Careful to lift his weight off Cody’s chest.

Cody tried his best not to stare, not to look at the muscular frame of Obi-Wan’s chest, or the slightly grayed hair that stretched from his neck down to his stomach.

“I– You had a dream last night. A nightmare, and I stayed.” Cody felt the urge to explain, but Obi-Wan didn’t look like he had expected one. The man just rubbed his eyes with his free hand and cleared his throat. 

“I… remember,” he said finally, words seeming to catch in his throat, like he was hesitant to say them at all. 

Cody knew the feeling well–knew what it was like to remember something you wish you didn’t. His own dreams could be unpleasant, but he was better at hiding them than Obi-Wan. Sometimes, he would avoid sleeping at all when he knew his mind would be consumed with the horrors of a past life. 

“I’m sorry for waking you,” Obi-Wan apologized, guilt creeping into his watery eyes and hands twisting together awkwardly. 

“No, don’t be sorry. I was awake anyway.” 

It wasn’t even a lie–he had been awake already– though, it hadn’t exactly been his choice.  

Obi-Wan didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, eyebrows raising just a hair. 

Cody sat motionless as he remembered Obi-Wan’s panic the night before–his screams of terror.

Cody, don’t! Please, don’t! 

He swallowed, unease rising just thinking about what the words could have meant.

No, you know how this ends. I can’t die now, not yet!

Dreams were so telling about the inner workings of one’s mind.

“You were dreaming about dying,” Cody heard himself say, before immediately kicking himself when he remembered how personal his own dreams were. He certainly wouldn’t want anyone asking about them. 

“I–Yes. I often do,” Obi-Wan said stiffly, turning away. Ah. 

Cody tried to swallow his guilt; there was nothing he could do to take it back at this point. His curiosity –his fear– gripped him and wasn’t letting go. 

 He swore there were tears collecting in the corners of those beloved blue eyes. 

“And I was the one trying to kill you?” he asked, horrified, but he had to be sure.

“Yes. My mind likes to replay memories, almost like a game, testing, to see if the same thing would happen if I had done something differently.” 

It was a raw admission, one spoken with more feeling than anything Cody had heard from Obi-Wan since his initial arrival on Tatooine. 

But one word stuck in his brain.

Memories. 

“Memories?” Cody asked, voice a shocked whisper. 

Obi-Wan’s face twisted into a dark frown, his eyebrows drawn. Shifting backward, he looked incredulously in Cody’s direction. There was something like disbelief in his eyes, and his formerly pink cheeks seemed to pale in an instant. 

“Yes. On Utapu, you tried to kill me. ”

The words loomed overhead like a dark rain cloud.

Cody’s heart stopped, his stomach churned as the words sank into his mind.

He had tried to kill Obi-Wan at the end of the war? He had no recollection of it. Not a single frame of his memory could corroborate the claim.

“ No. No. I didn’t–I don’t remember that– I didn’t try to–! ” 

“Yes, you did. Cody–” Obi-Wan sat up fully, limbs rigid and cheeks somehow even more flushed than before. “What is the last thing you remember from the war?” 

It felt less like a question, and more like an accusation. 

Cody tried to compose himself enough to answer. “I–I remember–the war ended. ” 

It was a lie–because his last memory was still clear in his mind–but he couldn’t admit it now, not knowing he had attempted to murder the man he had loved for as long as he could remember. 

“That isn’t what happened, Cody. I remember it so clearly. It haunts me.” For a moment, a haunted look indeed flashed in Obi-Wan’s eyes. 

Guilt trapped Cody, melting him into a puddle under Obi-Wan’s pained gaze. Everything –the air around him, Obi-Wan’s words, the heat of Tatooine– felt crushing, like the weight of a thousand stones pressing him down into the sand. 

“I need,” Obi-Wan whispered breathlessly, “I need to be alone. ” 

He was gone before Cody could muster an apology, much less say anything at all. 

It was the Obi-Wan Cody had first found on Tatooine again; he was composed but wound tight. 

Cordial, but nothing more than an acquaintance. 

Angry. Scared. Distant. Alone again.

Cody could barely bring himself to breathe. 

Numb.

Obi-Wan felt numb. Incensed, and relieved all at once. 

Things had been so good. Too good, apparently. Obi-Wan hadn’t forgotten about Cody’s lack of discussion about the final day of the war, but Obi-Wan had considered that it was a conversation he could wait to have, until Cody was ready, that was. 

Their life together, which they had built over many months, had become a near picture of what Obi-Wan had once imagined for them after the war. They lived together, ate together, and worked together. Each day, they spent time discussing their interests and sharing memories. Some nights, they watched the sunset, admiring the orange hues the twin suns left behind as they dipped behind the sand dunes. Other nights, they kept busy working on their speeder or watching Luke play outside the Lars’s house. 

Everything Obi-Wan had dreamed of had come together, forming before his eyes without him trying. Sometimes, he thought it might be the work of the Force, and other times he assumed it was all a happy coincidence. 

No matter how settled he had become, his comfort had been torn down by Cody’s continued denial of reality–of the actions that had rendered their continued partnership impossible. 

Obi-Wan could barely believe that Cody had forgotten something so monumental. How could he? No other day in his entire life had been more significant to Obi-Wan; no moment of betrayal had been so significant. It was the final straw, the last betrayal. 

He allowed himself to cry as he wandered into the desert. He hadn’t bothered to bring his canteen, but he didn’t care. Obi-Wan walked for several minutes before dropping to his knees in the sand, allowing every unspoken word of anger to escape from his lips as he sobbed in the presence of no one. 

“How could he forget? How could he!” he screamed, pounding his fist into the sand until his knuckles were bleeding and hot. 

He would have forgiven Cody in an instant if he had remembered and apologized. He wouldn’t have had to think about it twice. Somehow, a satisfying resolution seemed out of reach. 

Again, he cried out to Qui-Gon, as if somehow his rage would be enough to summon his master. He knew it wouldn’t, deep down, but he tried nevertheless. 

It was only when the heat of the suns became unbearable, rising into the highest point in the sky and beating down their unrelenting heat, that Obi-Wan returned to the cave. 

Though they were not meant to work that day, Cody wasn’t there. In many ways, it felt wrong for the cave to be empty and lifeless. Cody had become a part of their home, he was home.

That night, Cody returned with pinked cheeks and a deep frown. Obi-Wan watched him from his chair, heart beating double its usual pace as he felt another stab of irritation. This Cody–with longer curly hair and softer eyes–was so different from the soldier who had shot him down. It was barely the same person, yet Obi-Wan held this new Cody accountable for the crimes of the one he had known before.

Cody didn’t look at him, not even for half of a second, and simply walked himself to his bedroll, shoulders facing away from where Obi-Wan sat in his chair.

That night, Obi-Wan didn’t sleep.

He was sure Cody didn’t either. 

They both rose with the sun, tugging on their layers of clothes in tandem, tension still holding tight between them. It was a rawness that Obi-Wan thought they had left behind.

It was only when they sat down for breakfast that Cody spoke, his voice gruffer than it had been in some time. 

“I owe you an apology.” 

Obi-Wan sucked in a deep breath, struck with the gravity of the words. 

Those were the words he wanted to hear for months, the words he swore would fix everything between them and restore a bond that had been severed at its root, but somehow, they didn’t make him feel any different.

“There is something I should have told you, but for some reason, I convinced myself that nothing had ever changed between us. Clearly, it did.” Cody set his spoon down where he finished his bowl of porridge. 

“What should you have told me?” Obi-Wan asked hesitantly, because he wasn’t sure there was anything Cody could say that could heal the wounds his past self had caused. 

“I–when the chip was removed–the last memories I retained were from during the war, several weeks before its end. I–I remember we were on Jakku, sitting on our cots looking out on the desert from our tent, and we were talking about our lives. What they would look like after the war.” 

It was true then, Cody didn’t remember raising his arm, demanding his General’s death. Tears leaked from Cody’s eyes, and this time, Obi-Wan didn’t stop himself from reaching out with a steady hand to wipe them away, the pad of his thumb pressed over soft skin.

“I remember,” Obi-Wan said, a certain shakiness in his own voice. Like it was yesterday, he did not say.

“That’s the last memory I have. I don’t remember anything about what you have told me. Not calling for your murder. Not the end of us. It doesn’t seem like a possibility that I could have–we were so–it was so–what did I do wrong?” 

The question weighed heavily in his chest, almost burning. Dread spread across him, digging into him with all its strength. He swallowed down his nausea. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Cody,” Obi-Wan said. “You–” 

His words caught in the back of his throat.

For a moment, he thought he might not be able to say them after all. They were going to hurt. 

But he could not lie to this man again, not even by omission.

“You–” he paused, to gather his strength. “You were the one to end things. You let me go.”

The silence was expected. So were the wide, unblinking eyes staring at him. 

“No. No. ” Cody stood abruptly, shaking his head. “I didn’t–why–?”

“You had your reasons, but you only told me one thing.” 

Cody blinked at him, and Obi-Wan could practically feel his inner conflict. The deliberate decisions he was making in the choice of his words. 

Obi-Wan gave him that time.

“You wanted to wait until after the war, until we could be sure that we could spend our days together openly. You wanted to wait, but that’s all you said.”

It felt like some sick twist of fate. That was exactly what Cody had wanted all along; what Obi-Wan had wanted all along. He’d wanted an ‘after the war’ where they wouldn’t have to deal with the pressures of upcoming battles, or fallen brothers, or losing each other in the midst of it all.

They lived that life now, the one Cody had apparently dreamt of in the last moments he remembered. Except, life on Tatooine was stained by the reminders of the Empire and the ten years of time that had kept them apart. 

But, it was the life they had dreamed of all the same.

For the first time, Obi-Wan found that he didn’t care about what had happened in the past. No longer did the grip of bitterness have a stronghold on him. 

After a long pause, Obi-Wan looked up to find Cody’s face vacant, emotions hidden somewhere behind a stoic expression he often wore. 

“I can’t change what I said,” Cody began, voice breaking as he spoke and hands trembling where he had placed them on the table. “I can’t pretend I know what that version of me was going through. I can’t remember why I felt that giving up was the right call to make. But I do know, this version of me won’t leave. I won’t turn on you, I won’t give up on everything we have.”  

Obi-Wan wouldn’t give up on what they had either, because it was better than what they had discussed and dreamed about in times where their future had been so unclear. 

Cody looked at him, apologetic eyes wide and his lips ajar like he wanted to offer more apologies, more affirmations of how he truly felt.

Obi-Wan felt a sudden urge to collapse into his arms, holding him tight until they were both short of breath but full of life again. 

So, he stood, mind made up and heart thumping loudly inside of his chest.

“Cody,” he whispered, walking over to where he sat on his stool, his own hands shaking as he reached out and clasped the sharp edge of Cody’s jaw in his calloused hand. 

“Obi-Wan,” Cody murmured back, brokenly.

Obi-Wan couldn’t wait another moment, and certainly couldn’t deny the electricity that pulsed between them. He pressed himself into Cody’s chest, relinquishing his grip on uncertainty and self-preservation as he buried his face in the skin of Cody’s neck. 

The universe broke with them, everything around them fading into the background and halting to a stop. Obi-Wan heard Cody’s harsh breaths, smelled the musky scent of his skin, touched the dampened tunic on Cody’s back. It was all violently real, every newly observed sensation like the burst of a firework.

And Obi-Wan had once thought the glowing spark between a pair of lovers was a myth. 

Their embrace remained solidly in place until the first of the Tatooine suns crested over the top of the farthest sand dune, an indication that they were meant to begin their journey into Anchorhead. 

Cody pulled back first, tears dried on his cheeks, only the stains left behind. The expression carved into his face was unreadable. Was it fondness? Regret? Desire? Or perhaps it was all three.

“Obi-Wan,.” muttered Cody again. Obi-Wan nodded, letting out a shaking breath and taking Cody’s wrist between his fingers. All Obi-Wan wanted was to let go of the shackles of the past, break through bars of the prison walls, and sprint past the guards. Even a taste of freedom was enough for him to be convinced; it was time to leave the past behind. 

For better and worse. 

And for good.

“Let’s begin again,” Obi-Wan requested without an ounce of regret or spite.

CHAPTER 4:

Beginning again, as Obi-Wan called it, was better than Cody had expected. Laughter ran free, every contingency gone. They slept together now every night, Obi-Wan’s warmth always pressed up against him. Though most things felt the same, there was a certain freedom attached to their routine, because now their fragile ties had been tightened into unbreakable knots. 

And it had only been a week. 

That night they sat outside, legs dangling as they watched the suns paint the sky in hues of purple and orange. There was something different about it, and Cody couldn’t quite place his finger on it. Perhaps it was the long stretch of clouds that passed through the center of the lower sun, or perhaps it was Obi-Wan’s head tucked in the space between his shoulder and his cheek. 

“I can feel it again.” Obi-Wan murmured, cutting through the comfortable silence.

“Feel what?” Cody asked, and Obi-Wan pulled his head up again, hair mussed. He smiled, eyes reflecting the last light. 

“The Force, Cody. It’s been gone for so long, but I can feel it right here.” Obi-Wan pulled Cody’s hand to his chest, pressing it over the space between his ribs. Cody couldn’t feel it –wouldn’t feel it– but he smiled brightly nonetheless, mirroring the grin spread across Obi-Wan’s face. “I can feel it singing.” 

“That’s–how long has it been?” Cody asked, not expecting Obi-Wan’s answer in the slightest. 

“Nearly ten years.”

It had been a long time, much longer than Cody could have imagined. 

“How does it feel?” Cody asked instead of prying for an explanation of how, or why . Those questions were far less important than the man in front of him. He gently began moving from Obi-Wan’s chest up to his shoulder, then his neck.

“Like warmth. Fulfillment. It’s hard to describe.” Obi-Wan’s eyes glistened and he trapped his bottom lip underneath his teeth. “It almost feels like an old friend–one I will have to get to know again.”

The corner of Obi-Wan’s lip twitched upward and Cody felt his cheeks redden at the comparison.

“You know, Obi-Wan. I think we still need to get to know each other just a little bit better.” Cody said a moment later, smirking as he scooted closer to Obi-Wan, their foreheads almost touching. 

They blinked at each other, eyes adjusting to the dimming light.

Obi-Wan’s eyes were brighter than ever before, filled to the brim with an indescribable softness that Cody could only wish he would live to see again.

“Oh?” said Obi-Wan, the man’s finger’s crawling up the sleeve of Cody’s jacket toward his exposed neck. A bolt of excitement jolted through Cody’s veins as he leaned in, breath intertwining with Obi-Wan’s.

He closed his eyes, allowing another stuttering breath. 

Then Obi-Wan’s lips were on his, molding together like they were meant for each other all along. It felt familiar–much like the many times they had kissed before–but it felt brand new all the same. That feeling–comfort and familiarity and exhilaration mixed together–was intoxicating.

“That was…” Obi-Wan’s words were a whisper. He smiled gently. 

“It was,” Cody replied.

Just two weeks later, Obi-Wan left to get in bed early one night–that was what he had told Cody, at least.

After the sun had set, Obi-Wan suggested Cody take a look at their speeder since it had been making a strange noise after the last time they had ridden it into town. Cody had raised an eyebrow, likely because they usually settled in for the night, reading in their chairs or next to each other on their bedrolls.

“Just heading to bed early. It was a long week.” Cody pressed another kiss to his temple, nodding sympathetically. 

Obi-Wan had left Cody outside, then stopped into their kitchen to pull out the fresh fruit he hid in one of the uppermost cupboards. He moved quickly, chopping up the meiloorun, fuji apples, and pears with haste. He stacked them on a plate then added a hearty serving of chocolate and two glasses of wine. He’s had the wine hidden away for years now, he had never had an excuse to use it. 

He fumbled his way to the small cavern they had been slowly transitioning into a proper bedroom. Now there were strings of lights outlining the ceiling, and their bedrolls were suspended on a wooden frame. Hells, Cody had even returned with a rug in decent condition the last time he had attended a flea market. 

It was homey now, a place to relax in each others’ presence. Obi-Wan set the plate down on the small table tucked up against the side of the bed and surveyed the room where he had meticulously placed candles across the floor and small vases with fresh flowers he had paid more for than he’d wanted to. He lit a match, then lit every candle until the cavern was filled with glowing light. 

Obi-Wan beamed at his work, surveying the scene with a sense of glee which months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined being able to feel. 

It was perfect– the soft light, the smell of flowers, the gentle warmth from the lit candles. Obi-Wan could only hope Cody would think so as well. 

That afternoon they had bathed, using a large portion of their water supply to fill the basin Obi-Wan had rarely used for bathing before. Obi-Wan had put on fresh clothes–the nicest ones he had–and had even dropped a hint of cologne on his wrist. 

It all felt strange, but not unwelcome. Even during the war, there hadn’t been so much time to pamper one another, even if there had been more resources than there were on Tatooine. But now, there was time , and Obi-Wan didn’t want to waste another minute. 

He hadn’t a clue how much time they had left to live in anonymity, he didn’t know how quickly Cody would age, he didn’t know how long it would be before the Empire came for Luke, and Obi-Wan would be forced to stand in the way of danger to protect him.  

He planned to embrace every moment, clinging to each hour of his day like it would be the last hour he would ever live. 

Obi-Wan sat on the bed waiting for Cody’s inevitable return to their bedroom. He flipped through a flimsi book Cody had brought him, slipping his reading glasses over his face.

It was only a short while before Obi-Wan heard the soft patter of feet in the kitchen, then the splash of water, and Cody sighing. 

He smiled to himself, feeling his heart race. He hadn’t set any expectations for whatever was ahead of them for the evening. It didn’t matter if they simply sat beside each other, eyes locked, for hours. 

In another moment, Cody’s footsteps echoed, then he was there, standing in the entrance to their bedroom, eyes blown wide.

“Obi-Wan? What–what is all this?” It was then Obi-Wan noticed Cody stood bare-chested in front of him, his shirt gripped tightly in one hand, and his boots in the other. He looked good. 

No, perfect. 

Obi-Wan admired the way his body had changed in ten years. Cody had filled out, his chest and arms no longer skinny from endless battle and too little of an appetite. His stubble grew thicker now–though he still shaved–and the hair around his temples had grayed even more since he’d come to Tatooine.

“It’s–” Obi-Wan swallowed as Cody approached him, the ex-commander’s lips curled upward and hands placed on his hips. “For us.”

“It’s perfect, Obi-Wan,” Cody whispered, a certain gentleness in his eyes as he sat beside Obi-Wan. His hand pressed against Obi-Wan’s thigh, just above his knee. Obi-Wan could feel the heat through his thin linen pants and he felt his cheeks redden. Cody slowly reached forward, catching a loose strand of Obi-Wan’s hair between his fingertips. Gently, he tucked it behind Obi-Wan’s ear, his touch lingering against his neck. “You brought food?”

Obi-Wan nodded and Cody leaned over him, plucking a piece of the meiloorun from the plate and holding it up. “You first.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

Cody placed the piece of fruit in Obi-Wan’s mouth. It tasted sweet, perfectly ripe.

“It’s good,” Obi-Wan whispered, then reached for a pear. It was Cody’s favorite fruit, and it had been difficult to find, but the way Cody’s face lit up when Obi-Wan placed a slice of it in his mouth was priceless. 

They finished their fruit and chocolate before sipping at the wine. They spoke of their remembrances from the war more openly now, no longer crushed by the weight of it. The ugliness of the war was undeniable of course, but there was freedom in letting go, in remembering the good times and choosing to settle with the rest. 

It was some time before the wine began to have its effect, but when it did, the soft blur of Cody’s reddened cheeks and his wild curls made something burn in Obi-Wan’s stomach, a feeling that hadn’t been awakened in many years. 

Starting in his cheeks, a long string of warmth coiled like a slithering snake downward settling deep in his stomach. 

Cody watched him with eyes that seemed to glow under the soft orange light. His soft lips were parted, drawing Obi-Wan’s gaze toward them when he ran the edge of his tongue across the surface of them.

“ Hi.” Cody said looking like he might say more, like there was something sitting on the tip of his tongue.

But whatever Cody was going to say, Obi-Wan never heard it.

He caught Cody’s mouth with his, closing the space between them and pressing Cody backward against the pillow. Their bodies collided, Obi-Wan pressing farther and farther against Cody’s chest until he had pinned the man against the bed. Cody gasped against Obi-Wan’s mouth, kissing him back with boldness and desperation. Their tongues molded together, teeth scraping against each other. There was a taste of iron and blood where Cody’s teeth dug into Obi-Wan’s bottom lip. 

Cody tasted of coffee and felt as solid as stone under Obi-Wan’s lingering fingertips, his muscular frame becoming more apparent with each of Obi-Wan’s exploratory touches.  

Arms wrapped around each others’ sides and backs, they kissed again, longer this time, passion pooling between them and a sense of feral freedom growing with each slide of the tongues. 

When they broke free, they breathed heavily, eyes locking for only a second before Obi-Wan pressed forward again, his mouth crushed against Cody’s. 

“ Fuck,” whispered Cody against Obi-Wan’s mouth, a soft, incredulous laugh tumbling out with the word. 

Then, there were hands balled in the fabric of Obi-Wan’s shirt, pulling him to the side. Before Obi-Wan could protest, Cody had pinned him to the bed instead. Obi-Wan saw the opportunity, and allowed his hands to crawl down from Cody’s back, down his sides, kneading into the gentle curve of his ass. Cody’s breath hitched, and he licked harder into Obi-Wan’s mouth. 

Obi-Wan could feel Cody’s arousal digging into his thigh, coaxing a moan from between his lips. 

Desperation filled the air, curling around them and blocking out everything around them. 

It was just them, finally.   

There was no one there to hear them, no awaiting calls on his comlink, no time limitation. No, it was better than anything the could have experienced before. 

Freedom. 

Obi-Wan allowed his hands to tangle with Cody’s curls, a soft whine erupting from Cody when he let his fingers wander over his scalp. 

Oh. 

The sound made Obi-Wan’s stomach pool with arousal, every sensation and touch causing a jolt of lightning to course through his veins. 

“Too many clothes,” Cody gritted out into Obi-Wan’s mouth eventually, and Obi-Wan couldn’t have agreed more. 

“ Then take them off, ” he grumbled back, parting with Cody’s lips for a few moments. Cody’s lips were a deep red, almost purple, and his cheeks were tinted pink. Mostly, he was disheveled. Pieces of his hair were slung wildly over the top of his head, and the skin of his chest gleamed with sweat. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but swallow at the sight, suddenly feeling much too warm for his thin set of clothes. 

Cody wasted no time, fingers sloppily pulling at the buttons of Obi-Wan’s pants, shucking them down his legs with ease. Obi-Wan reached for his own shirt as Cody did so, feeling the slight coolness of the desert night on his skin. 

Cody watched him, lips still parted, eyes tracing each part of Obi-Wan’s body like he didn’t want to forget a single thing. 

Their bodies moved together with familiarity, each touch placed with determination to please. Obi-Wan was surprised that after so long, he still remembered the way it made Cody whine when he dragged the pad of his thumb along the edge of Cody’s pants just underneath the waistband. 

“Now you have too many clothes,” whispered Obi-Wan through the hint of a gasp. There were hands crawling underneath the waistband of his briefs, fingers splayed across the skin of his thigh. 

Then Cody’s pants were gone –and so were his own– and everything in the universe boiled down to the feeling of their bodies moving in tandem, as if they were one. 

Obi-Wan had forgotten what it felt like to be close, to share the most private and vulnerable parts of himself without a regret or contingency. Every steep wall he built had all but crumbled into a pile of dust, and every hesitation he upheld was washed away.

That night they slept soundly, echoes of pleasure faded to a soft contentment.

Their eyes locked in the early hours of the morning, blue and brown, mirroring each other. 

Something compelled Obi-Wan to say something, to fill in the quietness of the hour, but a tenderness in Cody’s smile reminded him he didn’t have to. 

There wasn’t always a necessity to say something. 

But Obi-Wan wanted to say something –confess something.

“Cody I…” he let the words linger on his tongue, Cody’s expectant eyes watching with a softness that Obi-Wan could feel in his chest. 

It hadn’t ever left him, he realized–the affection he thought had disappeared into thin air. No, it had been there all along, still beating alongside his heart. 

Obi-Wan whispered the same words that he spoke on the day Cody had let him go, but this time, there was hope hidden inside the six words instead of despair. 

“I love you, I always have.”

[starwarjotta]

okay so after Tales of the Jedi we're getting Tales of the Empire and on a complete non-squitur, in TBB episode 3x10 Hemlock says the other operatives aren't ready yet, which means there're more clone assassins in the making my bet is still on clone x (or the current assassin clone or whatever you call him) being Tech, because him being Cody just wouldn't be the same, it wouldn't be as emotionally devastating for Omega and the Bad Batch as the clone being Tech would be and I saw a theory that maybe Cody is one of the other operatives whose brainwashing just isn't done yet instead so hear me out, hear me out after Tales of the Empire, we could get Tales of the Clones, right? and in Tales of the Clones we could get the story of what happened to Cody, that maybe Cody tried to escape the Empire in TBB 2x03, but he was caught and sent to Hemlock's sick assassin clone program, but the badass he is he's resisting the brainwashing and he maybe escapes??? MAYBE WE COULD GET THAT STORY OR SOMETHING??? WHERE HE ENDS UP ON TATOOINE LIKE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO IN THE OG KENOBI SHOW SCRIPT???? I'D BE SO UP FOR IT OKAY???

[girlrandomstuff]

So, this is just me ranting about how much i do not like Anakin and Padme as both couple and individuals, but mostly as a couple. Long post

No hate to anyone who likes them, or for the actors who had play them, nor to George Lucas who created them. Let's start.

1. How they met

So The Phantom Menace starts. Padme is elected Queen of Naboo, and the Trade Federation is attacking the Planet, long story short cuz we all know it already, she has to run away but get stuck in a far planet. There she meets 9yo Anakin who is a slave, he's kinda smart and capable with machines. They help him win a race and the boy is set free but his mother has to stay behind. He's sad cuz he miss his mother and finds a good friend in Padme. Until there all is cool, they are both children.

2. Where their relationship really starts.

10 years had passed. Anakin is 19 and Padme is 24. He's send to protect her. They arrived in Naboo and when Padme is just trying to help with the situation Anakin starts to underestimate her and gets angry every time she shows him he needs her to be a succesful mission, I know he's a jedi and he may be the one to know better about protecting people, but if he really knew better he would know that a person that has live there for years is going to know better than him and he just seems angry and proud and can barely bring himself to admit she knows better than him. Then they get into a picnic and spend a good day just talking and playing, BUT Anakin literally started sharing VERY authoritarian and f*cist views and Padme is just like “you are so funny”. First time Padme ignores Anakin being abussive, or possesive or violent or any other toxic behavior. He kisses her and then a few hours later he literally says to her “I'm in agony for the kiss you should have never given to me” if that's not manipulative behavior i don't know what it is, she tries to tell Anakin to think clear and send him away, but then a few days later, Anakin commits his first massacre of women and children and admited to her all that and she's just like “to be angry is to be human”. She literally saw him in one of his most violent behaviors and just shoved it away. Second time Padme ignores Anakin violent behavior. They leave Tatooine, fight side by side, survived and married each other a few days later. Padme literally marry Anakin just days after he tells her he killed children.

3. The Clone Wars.

They have good moments and they had bad moments. But then a year or two had passed and Padme is helping fighting the war within the senate. Things happens and Clovis comes back to Padme's life. He lies and she believes him. Things scalate and she starts working with Clovis, at this Anakin literally tells her “as your husband I demand”, he may be right about Clovis, he was not one to trust, maybe Padme was wrong, but thinking that cuz you are married to someone you can demand something from the other is just wrong. First time Anakin despites Padme's work. Things gets even worst when Clovis tries to kiss Padme and Anakin walks in the middle of it. He was right to be angry and to get him away from her. BUT what was not right is him going full Vader mode trying to kill him, the moment he hears Padme asking him/them to stop, Anakin points at her and says “YOU DON'T HAVE A SAY IN THIS”, he doesn't care about Padme or protecting her or respecting her, it was about him and his jelousy, it was him, saying “she's mine, you are mine”. He never even asked her if she's right, he even thinks she was part of this, that she was cheating on him. Then Padme tells him a bunch of truths but it's for nothing cuz a few days she forgets everything and forgives Anakin. Third time Padme forgives Anakin toxic behavior.

3. Anakin fall.

So, Anakin is back in Coruscant after being away for a while. Padme waits for him and they reunite. Padme tells him she's pregnant and regardless of what many post says about Anakin smiling when he realizes he's going to be a father, he literally has the worst look ever, he's worried and even upset at what Padme is saying and he only pulls up a smile when he realizes she's looking at him and waiting for his reaction.

Then, they go back home, he gets nightmares about Padme dying, and he is worried about her, of course, any partner would be worried too. But what's not okay is that, he doesn't care about his child, he never thinks about the baby when he's seeing Padme die in childbirth. He only mentions their child until Padme asks him about the baby, and he only answer “I don't know” he doesn't even question himself about them, again, he just cracks a smile and sweet words when he sees Padme worry about the things they talked. Days pass by and Padme asked Anakin to speak to the Chancellor in good faith to stop the war so they can start fixing everything that is bad and Anakin snaps at her with “dont ask me to do that, do it yourself in the senate”, so, he gets to demand but she doesn't get to ask something from him? What a man Anakin Skywalker is. Second time Anakin desdain Padme's work. Sith happens and starts Order 66, he doesn't leave a single soul alive. Not even the children. He comes back fully turned and tells Padme he's leaving on a mission. Obi Wan goes and talk with Padme telling her everything, he literally tells her “Anakin killed children” and she answers “he wouldn't” when she knew he would CUZ ANAKIN LITERALLY TOLD HER HE ALREADY SLAUGHTER CHILDREN BEFORE. Fourth time Padme ignores Anakin violent behavior. She reproches Obi Wan he just wants to kill him like OF COURSE, he had literally massacre in cold blood hundreds of man, women and children, he's fully dark side mode and he's still the most powerful force sensitive being. At this point Anakin deserves to die, he needs to die cuz he could literally bring the entire galaxy down if he wanted and she knows, and still she doesn't care about anyone else but him and her (I mean of course having to accept your husband and father of your unborn children needs to face consecuences for his actions is hard but after all the inocent blood he droped i think any good soul would accept it as hard as it would be).

Then she runs to him, Padme tells Anakin everything Obi Wan told her about him, and he never denied it. So Padme starts yo realizes the true, now she knows it was all true, and even after she knows that Anakin massacre children and his fellow men and women, she stills asks a children-murderer-Sith to “run away with her and HELPS HER TO RAISE THEIR CHILD” who in their sane minds would ask a man who AGAIN, killed children to help her raise their baby? WHO? Fifth time Padme is willing to ignore Anakin's violence. Sith happens and Anakin thinks again she lies and chokes her. No matter what, a healthy couple would never end in one trying to kill the other, NO MATTER WHAT. Anakin choking Padme was just his last violent, toxic and possesive act against her.

Then to conclude everything, she goes into labor and Luke and Leia are born. But she's heart broken for Anakin, she's so heartbroken she doesn't want to live, cuz everything that happened. And for the ones who would say “you can't blame Padme for dying” the medical droid literally said she was fine but she didn't wanted to live anymore. She was more worried about Anakin “wheres Anakin?” than for her child(ren). Her last words are not even for her children, they are for Anakin, she literally believe there was still light in a man who literally had his hands wet with children blood. I do believe Padme didn't really care about her children, she barely gives them names but is never concerned about their wellbeing or anything.

And don't get me wrong, I can understand people losing every sanity they had left after Order 66

Ahsoka was attacked by her own men, men she saw as her brothers, good friends, who fought side by side with her, who help her train, she barely get out alive, and she had to see how all these good men were turned to puppets, had to see how every man died, not even as free men, and it took her 1-2 years to step back into the fight.

Obi Wan same thing, he had to see how men he trusted turned against him and try to kill him, only to come back and see one of the people behind all this crimes is the young man he had trained since he was just a little boy, even with all his pain he is willing to fight Anakin, maybe not kill him cuz he thinks leaving him burned was going to be enough to stop him, but he literally fight him, he has to see how his family was slaughter, how his home was burned down and how his brother betrays him and them all, and it took him 10 years to step back into the fight and overcome his grieve.

Bail Organa, the man saw as the Clones attacked the Jedi Temple, saw it burning, saw how they killed a child as he couldn't do anything to stop it, he saw his life work falling into pieces as he wasn't able to stop it, and he never stoped fighting, the moment he scaped the Temple, he jumps into help any jedi he can find, rescued Yoda and Obi Wan, helps Yoda scape from Darth Sidious, and helps Padme get medical treatment, he jumps in to adopt an orphan baby, and just a couple days later he offers Ahsoka help and comfort. Months pass, years pass and he never quited the fight, he always kept going, he never stoped, even when even a year after Order 66 he still dealing with trauma.

[nikki-is-a-nerd]

Saviors from long ago

Synopsis:

Rey meets two travelers in Tatooine. Simply searching for their son or whatever item he may have left behind. Only to find out who they really were.

Genre: General Fluff and witty banter.

Warning: None

Note: as per usual this has an AFAB!reader, but no other appearance indicator. So feel free to imagine either yourself or an oc.

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

How long has it been since you and Ezra left the resistance, well more like retired forcefully because someone (your children) basically petitioned for the both of you to exit the fight. Well physically being in the fight and just remain as Intel collectors? Twenty years? Maybe more. All you knew was that being fifty-three and having a twenty year old son who was already a commander in the resistance and suddenly disappeared doesn't really help you relax. Now here you and Ezra were. In a planet filled with sand that kind of reminds you of your own home, Lothal, if Lothal was run by criminals and people who would sell off information for a few credits. You honestly felt bad for all the children living here, they deserve so much better.

"Honey, are you alright? Do you need more water?" Ezra asked looking at you.

Saints, age really made Ezra look even better, the subtle whites in his curly black hair and the wrinkles around his eyes, somehow, the longer you look at him the more he looks like his father.

"I'm alright dear. Just thinking. If Kanan decided to hide here in Tatooine, wouldn't it be easy to spot remnants of his ship? I mean he and Poe decided to make their respective X-wings very, different." You said after a small pause.

"Caleb did say that Kanan's signal disappeared here, there's a chance that Kanan sold his ship to buy an inconspicuous one, or he scrapped it and sold it for credits." Ezra answered.

"You're right, Kanan is a survivor and a very charming guy, I bet he'd think of something." You said calmly.

"Exactly he's charming, witty, and a genius like his father." Ezra said smugly.

"Ehem-"

"But mainly like you, honey." Ezra added.

"We should probably keep a low profile here. Tatooine may not be under the empire's control but information is a commodity." You said quietly.

As you and Ezra continue to search for any evidence of your missing son to find out about his whereabouts, you both bump into a small group of scavengers. The one you bumped into seemed to recognize that a lot of what you have on your person could be worth a lot of credits and food.

When they started hassling you for them, Ezra decided to step up and shield you from them but both of you know that, any attempt of harming them would lead to more problems, thankfully something spooked them enough to leave you be. Your savior was a young woman, probably a few years older than your son, she looked like a scavenger but as she approached you, she raised both arms up as a sign that she means no harm.

"Hello, are you two alright? Did they steal anything from you?" The woman asked.

You and Ezra checked your belongings and noticed that they stole your small pouch of credits.

"Nothing from me, but they stole my wife's credits. It's fine though, it's not much." Ezra said kindly.

"Thank you for saving us from more trouble though." You spoke

"No problem, you two seemed like nice people and that particular group has no qualms of robbing anything that moves." She joked.

"I'm Rey, we should probably leave the open space, a sandstorm is coming." Rey added.

"Oh alright, I'm (Y/N) and this is my husband Ezra." You said warmly as you followed.

"What are you two doing in Tatooine if I may ask?" Rey asked politely as she led you inside her small home.

You and Ezra sat down and shared a look, both agreeing that she seemed nice enough to tell the truth to.

"We're here because this was the last location where the signal from our son's ship was last seen." Ezra spoke.

"We're here to try and find him or even just his ship and then call out to our friends to pick us up." He added.

Rey looked at the both of you until finally something clicked in her mind upon seeing the both of you.

"You're Ezra and (Y/N) Bridger, former resistance fighters and your husband's the infamous savior of Lothal." She said happily.

"Oh, we didn't expect people to still remember us. We haven't been in action in years." Ezra chuckled.

"Are you kidding me? I used to tell other kids my age here that one day someone like the both of you would free Tatooine. You gave me hope as a child." Rey said kindly.

"You have the heart of a rebel you know." You said softly.

Rey gave you a small appreciative smile. She felt so at ease in both of your presence. She then remembered something.

"There was a ship that crashed here a few weeks back, the pilot's been taken to the hutt's location." Rey said.

"Kanan..." You whispered softly.

"Excuse me, did you say hutt's?" Ezra asked.

"Yes? Is there a problem." Rey asked confusedly.

Ezra only grinned at you, a small inside joke from your time as part of the ghost. You shook your head, your husband truly was something else and if Kanan was with the hutt's, you just knew what Kanan would say.

"Karabast, we have to get Kanan back, your son thinks too much like you." You said as you rubbed your temple.

"What did I do this time?" Ezra asked.

"Ezra, darling, what did you say kanan should say his name was when kidnapped?" You asked.

"Oh that's easy Jabba the-Oh kriff." Ezra said realizing what Kanan might do.

Kanan does know that Jabba is dead but if he was taken forcefully and his ship was with them, your son who was blessed with your intellect but Ezra's personality, you just knew that he'd get under their skin. Why was it that your eldest was the one who acted so much like Ezra when he was a teenager and not your literal teenager of a son? Nonetheless you hoped that Kanan could hold his tongue better than Poe to ensure his safety.

"I'm going to guess you need to leave as soon as the sandstorm is over?" Rey asked.

"Yeah, our son might just get himself into a huge mess if he sees anyone try to dismantle his ship." Ezra said light-heartedly.

"Well, ever since Jabba died, the hutt's lost most of their power and influence here in Tatooine, so most of their manpower is by the entrance, the back entrance isn't as guarded though." Rey said.

"Would you like to come with us?" You asked.

"Of course, I can help you get there, I have a second sand speeder that I won from one of the competitions here. I can also help ensure that nobody gets in." She said kindly.

"You sure you don't want to be a rebel fighter?" Ezra teased.

"Oh no thank you, I don't think I'm good with that. I'll help you get your son and get back to your ship." She said apologetically.

You smiled at her as you and Ezra waited for the sandstorm to pass. You all talked, finessing your plan to ensure the least amount of casualties and keeping a low profile, as to not let any empire supporters alert the empire themselves. Afterwards while resting, you felt Rey's eyes on Ezra and yourself.

"You're staring sweetie, what's going on in your head?" You asked kindly.

"What was it like?" She asked.

"What was what like?' Ezra answered with a question.

Rey took a deep breath before asking her question.

"What was like for you to be so far away for most of your youth?" She asked Ezra.

Ezra smiled sadly at Rey's question. Mulling it over in his head before speaking.

"It was lonely. At first I felt a bit proud, I could protect my family, I probably made Kanan proud, I foiled Thrawn's plan, but when it all sunk in that I was away from everyone I knew, in a place I didn't even know." Ezra sighed as he took a deep breath.

"I started to take that time to mull things over, I felt sad too but I had hope. I hope that I will be found and that I can return home. Which I did and although my closest friend, Sabine and one of my mentors, Ahsoka had to be left behind to get me back to safety, I was grateful that they found me. I got to go home, to live a somewhat normal life and build a family with the woman I fell in love with." Ezra said softly with a small smile.

"I'm sorry if I made you remember things you didn't want to." Rey said apologetically.

"No, no, it's alright. I'm thankful for my experiences. It led me to where I am now and that in itself is enough." Ezra reassured the young girl.

Rey smiled softly at you and your husband before her eyes drifted to look outside and she smiled as she saw the sandstorm had finally passed. It was nearing night when you all decided to go to the Hutt's hideout. Just as Rey had said it wasn't the same as it was before. More of a shell of its former glory. As you neared the back entrance, you heard your son's voice.

"You know for a bunch of Hutt's your more of ass hats now you know." Kanan said snarkily.

"Shut up vermin!" One of the hutt's spoke.

"Oi, don't hurt him, we can offer em' up to the empire and they'll pay us a good sum of credits. Enough to bring back our glory." Another spoke.

"Hey, don't you know who i am? I'm Jabba the Hutt incarnate dickwipes!" Kanan mocked.

You looked at Ezra as you heard this. Of course your son would use this. Of course he just had to have your rage but his father's sense of humor and sarcasm. Ezra wasted no time unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and you pulling out your blasters. You instructed Rey to hide while you dealt with the problem. When you were sure that she wouldn't be spotted so easily, you and Ezra decided to barge in.

"Lay a hand on my son and You won't have a hand." Ezra said sassily.

You shot one of their men who tried to attack Ezra from behind.

"Try to attack my husband and I'll kriffing kill you." You said menacingly.

"Mom! Dad! Oh I'm so glad to see you." Kanan spoke.

You took one glance at him and your blood boiled. He was covered in bruises and cuts, some fresh, some old, and some just starting to heal. You immediately shot the creature that had his weapon pointed at your son. Ezra managed to disarm and knock out the rest. The remaining Hutt's left the vicinity to avoid death and that was considerably smart of them. Never mess with two angry parents. Ezra cut through the metal bindings that held Kanan down while you searched the area for any other slaves that they might have, but saw none.

"How'd you find me?" Kanan asked.

"Your brother was the one monitoring your ship's location, and he told us where he saw your ship's signal disappear." You spoke as you checked his injuries.

"That and I annoyed someone enough to let your brother tell us what happened." Ezra added.

"General Organa?" Kanan asked teasingly.

"Yup, your father managed to annoy general Organa enough. Again." You said.

You helped Kanan get up and supported his body weight as one of his legs was badly injured from the crash. Once leaving through the back door, Rey immediately arrived, her speeder and the one she lent Ezra already with her. Kanan rode In front of Ezra to ensure that he won't fall, while you rode with Rey. Kanan informed you that his ship has been stripped bare and already scrapped, but he managed to hide the information disc he stole. Kanan was upset since his ship was destroyed but glad to be able to return home. As you, Ezra, Rey and Kanan returned to Rey's home to rest before you return to D'Qar to get Kanan back and for you and Ezra to return to your home in Lothal.

"You're lucky to have parents like them." Rey said to Kanan, when she noticed you and Ezra were asleep.

"I know. My brother and I wanted them to retire from fighting since that's all they've known, but seeing them come save me, made me feel like I was a kid again." Kanan said softly.

"I wish I had parents like yours." Rey muttered.

"I'm sure whatever happened to them and why they gave you up, probably had some bigger meaning. Although I do acknowledge that my parents shouldn't have had the reason to come and save me, I am deeply appreciative that they did. I wasn't blessed to be force sensitive like my twin brother Ephraim, so I found other ways to be useful." Kanan spoke.

He looked at you and Ezra and smiled. Reminiscing his and his brother's childhood.

"Growing up, I looked up to both of them. They never told anybody else that when dad got back from Peridea, Mom ran away from him since she got so nervous. How dad still gets nightmares of his time in exile or how they had to lean on each other for support because they anchored each other to reality." Kanan smiled.

"To love someone enough to wait for a decade, not knowing if the other is alive, with another or worse, is dead. That kind of loyalty is something rare. I hope to find that one day." Kanan added.

Rey smiled softly at Kanan. She understood that. They were both startled though when they noticed that Ezra had been awake the entire time.

"You'll get there buddy. Mom and I are very proud of you. I mean, you didn't join the dark side, you didn't pull a second order 66 by murdering a bunch of padawans because your uncle decided to pull some kriffing dirt moves, so you're already better than a kid I know. Plus, your mom and I spent the better parts of our youth avoiding our feelings that if I didn't marry your mother I would have rather returned to Peridea myself." Ezra teased stroking your sleeping head gently.

"Now sleep you two. You did really well Rey, I'm proud of you too and I'm sure your parents wherever and whoever they may be, are as well. Good night kids." Ezra added, as he really did went to sleep.

As night turned to day and you were all packing your things, Rey saw you off as you boarded your ship, still you asked if she wanted to join, but she said no. Well she said maybe one day and you believed that this wasn't the last time you'll see her. Leaving her with some credits to feed herself for about a month as that's all you had with you. You all departed Tatooine and returned to where you all should be.

Rey never expected to meet you three or to understand things about you and Ezra but now she knew you two to be more than just saviours of the universe. You were first and foremost just good people who love their children very much.

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

Note: holy smokes I did it! Also I might make a small drabble about Kanan and his twin Ephraim, and who knows I might make a lil doodle because I need copium while having no star wars content XD

Til next week! Bye bye

[sith-obikin]

FINAL ROUND-UP ❤️‍🔥

Here are the last submissions to the first edition of the Sith Obikin Fest! In total we received over 40 works🔥

Stay tuned for our next announcements / thank-yous and a very exciting project coming SOON!

• Birth Astride A Grave (a play in two acts) by nngi_e

After his defeat on the fiery shores of Mustafar, a captive Obi-Wan Kenobi receives four visitors in the darkness of his cell:

a beloved Master long gone,

a beautiful Queen shrouded in blue,

a cruel Shadow covered in scars,

and the Sun at the center of it all.

• Vader Closes In by ArtisticlyBeautiful

Vader finds Obi-Wan in his cave on Tatooine. He will do whatever it takes for Obi-Wan to feel the heartache he has to live with now.

Set during the Kenobi series.

DW: Non-con, bottom obi-wan, ruthless vader

DNW: Piss, sweetness

• Three Measures of Blood by your cheap thrills (eurosthewanderer)

Sith! Obi-Wan stumbles upon a boy in his travels and instantly feels his great potential in the Force.

He snatches Anakin before anyone else can and proceeds to teach him the ways of the Dark Side.

DW: Go wild. Anything like the Jedi Quest or Rogue Planet, but they are both Sith. Perfect excuse to dive into the Sith lore and create their practices. You can make it as long as you want with Anakin of any age. But the world-building of the Sith is essential.

DNW: Only brief mentions of the teachings. Seriously, you can make it as wild as you can, but details are essential.

• wild animals i have known by travellingcircus

Reverse age AU - Set whenever

Sith Obi-Wan (wild and borderline feral), Jedi Master Anakin (always toeing the line of being a darksider but never falling)

Really I just want sith Obi-Wan to call jedi Anakin daddy (no age play). A plot would be nice, but I am far too happy with nothing but smut.

DW: Daddy kink, possessiveness, obsession, top Anakin, bottom Obi-Wan, they're disgustingly cute about each other but not in a healthy way

DNW: piss, scat, vomit, age play, omegaverse, unhappy ending, major character death

• Rage, rage against the dying of the light by Golden_Daffodils

Palpatine miscalculates. Killing Obi-Wan Kenobi is the reason Anakin falls, but he did not expect the boy to rebel and try to kill him in return when Anakin learns who he is and his role in Obi-Wan's death.

Would love a angst filled fic, with Anakin falling because Obi-Wan is dead, as Palpatine thought he would, and that biting Palpatine in the ass lol

Also it's up to you if Obi-Wan is really dead or not. I just want to make clear that the most important person for Anakin will always be Obi-Wan.

If nsfw, bottom Anakin/top Obi-Wan and lots of tender/passionate sex reunion.

No rape/non con, hardcore kinks, Anakin kneeling to Palpatine, Anakin killing other Jedi (I don't want him to be the instigator but he can kill to defend himself should you wish to go on that route), anidala, Obianidala, QuiObi.

• Bound By You by BlueAreTheStars

Reverse Age AU - Takes place in GFFA

Peace in the galaxy. A shaky treaty resulting in a tri-annual competition to see who reigns for a short period of time: the Empire or the Republic. It is not built to last.

Anakin Skywalker, older but no wiser from his Clone Wars escapades, is of course the Jedi's chosen champion, as much as he does not wish to be. There is no match for his power, his skills, anywhere in the galaxy now that peace has been declared but when a lithe young man steps into the arena, with gold eyes and an obvious hard-on for him, maybe Anakin has finally met one.

• mine, always by DPRen

Set in Rots. Canon divergence. Obi-Wan kills Palpatine in a fit of jealous rage at seeing Anakin kneel to be Palps apprentice. And now Anakin has to try and get his master back from the dark side while fighting his own internal battle. No unhappy endings ( happy sith murder husbands pretty please )

[elwenyere]

Congratulations on the follower milestone, so well-deserved! 🎉

May I humbly suggest Codywan + love language as a prompt? 🧡

Grow Old (Codywan, 738w)

Rating: G

Tags: Established Relationship, Tatooine Husbands, Past Trauma, Recovery

Summary: A small Tatooine Husbands vignette.

Author’s Note: This is the third ficlet for my follower celebration on Tumblr, in response to the wonderful Codywan prompts provided by @goldleaf-art and @oathkeeperoxas: “love languages” and “silent devotion,” respectively. Thank you so much to goldleaf and Serie for the incredible inspiration (in the prompts and in your gorgeous stories): for the two of you, I knew I had to do Tatooine husbands, so this is part gift, part tribute. <3<3<3

Ficlet below the cut - or you can read it on AO3

"Cody?”

It was Obi-Wan’s voice, drifting out from the hut and still stretching through the last cracks of his sleep. The call was curious but not concerned - Cody had left his vibroblade next to the bed as a sign that he’d felt safe when he left - so he waited a beat before responding, giving himself time to savor the experience of hearing his own name, the way its syllables sounded through the dry stillness of the desert morning and the filter of Obi-Wan’s weathering accent.

“Out here,” he called back, unbending from his crouch next to the garden beds with a few syncopated pops in his knees and a mostly smothered wince. 

Obi-Wan must have sensed Cody's lack of urgency, because when he appeared at the doorway to their hut he had two mugs in hand: one for his own tea and a second for the caff that Cody liked a little on the milky side these days.

“You’re up early,” Obi-Wan observed - the words neutral but the tone probing - and it was true. Cody was usually the later riser. 

It was also true, in this case, that he'd barely gone down at all. The two of them had gotten into a - well, Cody supposed most people would call it a fight, though Obi-Wan rarely let Cody engage him directly enough for it to feel like that’s what it was. Not like the fights Cody had gotten into with Rex or Fox or Alpha. And not like the arguments he turned on himself when he thought of his brothers either: a tissue-deep burn in his chest that could simulate fullness, at least for a little while. 

He and Obi-Wan were more careful with each other’s anger now, and Cody knew the reasons why. He still started most days by picking his way around the half-obliterated nightmares and scraps of memory the reasons left littered around his mind. But there were times when he missed the blows he and his general had traded on the sparring mat - even the sharp words they’d sometimes yelled across the battlefield.

Or maybe he just missed the old lie: that when he was in a position to shatter the ground beneath their feet, he would know it.

“I fixed the irrigation issue,” he said, taking his caff as Obi-Wan joined him by the edge of their fledgling garden. “Since you were so put out last night about the black melon leaves wilting.”

Obi-Wan made a noise of protest, slightly muffled by the sip he’d just taken from his mug.

“I do not,” he said, sounding decidedly put out, “get put out.”

“My mistake,” Cody replied mildly. “Must have picked the wrong word. You know I have trouble remembering things these days.” 

He made a show of tapping his finger to his temple, and Obi-Wan graced him with a theatrical roll of his eyes. But the lines on Obi-Wan’s face were a little looser by the time he turned to stare back down at the beds. He took his time observing the changes, his gaze moving over the new system of moisture spikes and buried clay pots that Cody had installed around the rows of seedlings.

“This is a very sensible arrangement,” he offered at last. Primly, some might say.

“I know it is,” Cody responded, letting the smallest hint of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. He bumped his shoulder against Obi-Wan’s. “It’s just a garden, you know. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.”

Obi-Wan grimaced before smoothing out his expression again.

“Am I that obvious?” 

It was a question meant to sound tossed off, and Cody recognized the pattern of the delivery from memory: the sly lilts and tonal feints that had made Obi-Wan’s voice such a precision weapon for so long. But it came out sharper than it would have then - more raw, the patches of erosion showing through around the edges.

“You’re not as good at masking it anymore,” Cody replied, taking a long drag from his caff before adding: “I don’t mind that part, actually.”

Obi-Wan bumped his shoulder back against Cody’s and then stayed there, resting his weight on Cody’s arm as they contemplated the prospect before them: the crawl of flat heat across the sand, the spindly tendrils of green at their feet.

“It’s just a garden,” Obi-Wan repeated. 

“Not a test,” Cody agreed. “An experiment. We’re just seeing what can grow.”

[obislittleone]

Come What May

Episode 1/?

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader (little one)

Warnings: not much in this one, it’s kinda just easing us into the new setting tbh. Maybe mentions of slight depression, talk about the past?? Slight spice? Idek at this point.

A/n: whats up whores, i missed ya… here it is, the beginning of our new story. I wanted to just kinda jump right in off the bat with this one, so there’s not a lot of delay with the action lol

The humble abode is quiet most days, as you spend more time outside than in. The dreary dry weather of Tatooine had not yet driven you to insanity, so you preferred the outdoor setting to the small home you’d slowly been learning to love. The sand was something to work through for sure, but other than that, it wasn’t the worst place to be. You often thought about your planet of origin, the muddy slave planet Mimban, run worse and tirelessly now by the empire. The whole galaxy had changed so much in a year, you could hardly fathom it. The emperor whom sat at the helm of it all only watched with a demented satisfaction as the legendary forces grew over all corners of the galaxy, but you watched with sadness, knowing the once pure and progressive democracy had been demolished for good. Many good people had died, and you and your husband were left to pick up the pieces. Nothing could be done, no one could be saved. Nothing else matters.

He was working in a small manufacturing plant in Mos Eisley, bringing home credits that provided little luxury. You didn’t realize how much the order gave you until it was all stripped away, gone in an instant and taking everything down along for the ride.

The pain from the past was slowly dulling. It was there every morning when you woke up, and every night before you drifted off to sleep in the arms of your love, but the moments in between weren’t as hard as they used to be. This was the hand you’d been dealt, it was up to you to decide how to play them.

You meditated almost daily, before your shift in the cantina, and after you closed up shop, kicking the drunkards to the curb in order to get home in time to see Obi. He came home earlier then you, but also left very early in the morning, most times while you were still asleep. His sweet kisses to the side of your face, or on your bare shoulder before he left were always felt, even while dreaming. He was everything. Your one reason to keep going, your true lifeline.

“How was work?” You cralwed up behind him, as he was sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed. He was being dragged through the ringer at his place of employment, but he didn’t think it would benefit you to know. He braved through his days, with you on his mind. You were worth the large amounts of upset he encountered daily.

“Better than yesterday,” he admitted, it was the truth. He leaned into your touch as you let your hands wander the expanse of his shoulders. He feels every movement individually, and it calms him. Your force presence has always been strong and commanding, but among all things it was calm, and it was peaceful… and it gave him hope.

“You’re warm, are you feeling okay?” You wanted to check in on him, because though you sensed he was being honest, there had to be something else he wasn’t telling you.

“This whole planet is warm, my love.”

You chuckled into his neck at his response, and shook your head.

“I mean you seem feverish, Obi,” you corrected, and he huffed. Maybe another distraction could deter you from digging deeper. He looked over his shoulder at you, barely catching your eyeline as he smirked.

“I guess that’s simply the effect you have on me,” he turned more, forcing you back from him and into the worn mattress. You knew where this was headed, and though you held no real protest, you just had to tease him.

“I have that effect on most people, don’t take it personally.”

Of course, he is unbothered by this. He nose dives into your neck, nuzzling there as he placed the most gentle kisses upon your skin. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about you having that effect on anyone else. He knows you’re his for the long run, and he isn’t even going to think about how badly you would injure anyone that ever tried anything. You’re his, and he’s yours.

-

Work was slow, it seemed there was far more commotion happening outside than in the cantina, which was unusual for this time of day. After work, the crowds came rambunctiously piling in to drink their misery away. You often put on the show of their lifetime just to put smiled on some of their dreary faces. You’d gotten quite good at the tricks up your sleeve, tossing drinks and flipping the mixer in the air. The force may have been a contributing factor in your newly developed skill, but your boss didn’t need to know that, or anyone else for that matter.

You knew that if another force sensitive being ever entered those walls, they would feel your signature immediately, but you never worried about it, never thinking it could be a bad thing.

The force, through all the troubles and woes it allowed you to go through, was still your center. The way of which you lived your life around. You may not be a Jedi any longer, but heck, you still acted like one. You even still wore your Padawan braid like it was the most natural thing in the world. No one ever questioned it, so why should you have to hide it away? You still believed that someday, you and Obi-Wan would have the time and be comfortable enough in your living arrangements that you could travel to a beautiful planet, where he could invoke upon you the trials himself. Even if it were never official, you’d be a knight, and could think of the title with pride.

The cantina was ablaze with wld noise for only a second as the door opened up. You recognized the patron, as she was a regular in the bar. She stumbled in, her wild curls bouncing as she shook it off and strolled up too the bar. Her youthful face was strewn together in a look worn to make her seem ten years older. You knew she couldn’t be much older than you, if she was at all.

“Boy, it’s crazy outside. Glad to see this place still intact,” She said, leaning on the countertop as you slid her the usual.

“What’s going on?” Usually you never bothered to ask about town drama, or even little altercations that may ensure. It wasn’t any of your business, and you no longer felt the need to step into citizen affairs. It didn’t concern you anymore. You were not a keeper of the peace, you’re just a bar tender.

“Imps, what else?” She rolled her eyes, slamming the drink back and setting her glass back down. You wasted no time in refilling it. She hated Imperials, you knew that. She only ever complained to you about them, and as much as the topic was. Sour one for you, you listened. No one hated the empire more than you and Obi. You both understood the people’s pain. It’s only been a year, but it’s taken so much. “And don’t get me started on those nasty new troopers. They got em’ just about everywhere, now.”

“What do you mean by everywhere?” You turned to her with a more pointed expression. You saw the ships fly in this morning on the way over, but figured it was just another routine check in. A one stop, to pass through and make sure everything was the way they wanted it to be. Now they were staying? “Peli, what do you mean by everywhere?”

She sighed, staring at her drink for a moment, and just turning the glass in her hand. Everything was going downhill, the panic of the people was setting in, and freedom was becoming something you had to earn, as decided by the Empire.

“They stationed a couple hundred around Mos Eisley this afternoon, no one has the option of turning them away. If the Empire deems your place of work necessary, it’s getting watched like a hawk,” She explained. Your face went pale, and you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to reach out through the force and feel the outside presences around you. It was so crowded, there were troopers every corner. “They even put a squad in my dad’s landing pad. I always wanted to work it someday… Probably gonna get claimed by the Imps before then.”

You tried your best to hide your sudden fear. There weren’t any troopers in here yet, there was a chance you could be overreacting over nothing.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. They’ll probably clear out soon,” you reassured with a forced smile. The young woman before you had lived here all her life, long before you ever set foot in the sand. She knew that this wasn’t just a routine check in, and that there were bigger forces at play.

“I don’t know, it seems pretty serious. People aren’t taking it well, there’s been riots all day… It’s strange,” she paused, finally taking a swig of her freshly poured drink while she pondered her words. “It’s like they’re looking for someone.”

Your blood ran cold and your gaze hardened against the counter-top. You took a deep breath in, and had to regain your sense of self before you looked up and responded, nonchalantly as possible.

“I wonder who it could be.”

“Whoever it is, they must be important for the entire town to get invaded,” she finished her drink, throwing some credits down after her glass and shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. “I gotta get back to the pad, wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Peli,” you took the credits and nodded to her, waiting until she was gone to turn your back on the door. You wait to hear the door close after she was out of it, but instead, it stayed open longer than usual, and brisk footsteps were heard coming up behind you. You turned around, keeping your guard up just incase there was a trooper, or an unwanted patron, but it was quickly let down again and replaced with a smile when you saw the familiar face. “Obi, what are you doing here? I don’t finish for another hour.”

He raised a finger to his mouth, indicating the need for silence as he scoped out the room for remaining drinkers. There weren’t many, knew figured as much. He turned back to you with an aggressive stare, pulling you by your forearm so that he could calmly whisper in your ear.

“Don’t make a scene, go get your things from the back and come right back here.”

His urgency was one you recognized, but it had not been used since the war. He pulled back and looked at you with a heavy weight in his eyes. You didn’t question him, you only nodded, and did what he said. You ‘things’ were not much, but when he said the word you knew exactly what he meant. You always carried it with you, knowing there could possibly come a time when you’d need it. Your lightsaber, concealed in a flask case that was never touched. You grabbed it off of the wall, pulling the strap over your head to lay across your body, and grabbed the jacket you’d gotten for the cold nights. You slid it on your arms and went back to Obi.

“What’s going on?” You asked under your breath, never letting your voice raise, even in the uncertainty. He was quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders, ushering you to the door as casually as possible before murmuring silently.

“We’re being hunted.”

-

Tags:

@cool-h-posts @honestlywtfisgoingon @fandomstanner24 @elvenrin @b0xerdancer @theatrelove3000