#he's too busy keeping obi-wan and anakin alive to worry about a relationship

[phoenixyfriend]

Will you share what makes you ship Anakin/Cody? It's a pairing I'd never have considered, so I'm really curious what makes you interested in it!

This is an interesting question for a few reasons, but I think I should link this post first.

One of the ship dynamics I gravitate towards, especially for Anakin, is 'incredibly powerful/skilled person who is desperate to please, and the person who is largely unimpressed with their baseline level of skill and power, but will genuinely and meaningfully praise/acknowledge the thing they put a real effort into.'

I think Cody is really, really unimpressed with Anakin's shenanigans, and he shows it. He's a walking raised eyebrow with "and?" hanging in the air. He knows Anakin is powerful and great with droids, but can he hold his temper? Can he remember and implement the battle plan that Rex drew up? Can he [redacted horny challenge]?

Anakin wants to impress Cody, and Cody wants Anakin to behave, but also Cody wants to see what makes Anakin tick. He's a very strange and emotional man, and that's a bit of a challenge to figure out and settle, and Cody imo likes a challenge.

In my mind, they didn't love or hate each other on first sight, they were just... wary. Cody had just spent a few weeks getting to know his new boss, and said new boss had mentioned his brother-son at least twice an hour. Cody goes in knowing that Anakin is reckless, but a genius, and lacking in common sense. He's emotional and forgets to sleep when he dedicates himself to a task, and is still getting used to his new arm because he tried to fight a Sith Lord 1v1.

Anakin comes into this situation knowing that Cody is competent, and that Obi-Wan describes him as a good man, and that the two seem to get along pretty well. Being Anakin, he's a little worried about getting replaced, but this is someone Obi-Wan has to work with, and it seems to be on the up and up, but they've had a few weeks to get to know each other without him there, so he's anxious, because in Anakin's mind he is the only person that should ever be Obi-Wan's SiC, but also, Obi-Wan likes this guy alright and the guy in question has managed to keep Obi-Wan and a bunch of soldiers alive so far, so he can't be that bad, so Anakin should try to get along with him, or Obi-Wan will be disappointed, or even upset, and Anakin can't deal with that right now.

So they meet and it's awkward and they try to settle into a working relationship of some kind, and it mostly is... okay. Anakin snaps and gets aggressive sometimes, but Cody is just a wall to it. This isn't great for Anakin, personally, who's used to 'not taking this shit, will wait silently for you to stop being a dick with obvious judgement' from people like Windu, but it works. Cody doesn't enjoy Anakin's behavior, nobody does, but he can deal with it and he's seen a couple brothers come through injury-and-prosthesis with a short temper, so like. Sure. Whatever.

But then Anakin starts coming to Cody for help with tactics and strategy, because Obi-Wan is busy, but Cody is basically Anakin's peer, right? And Cody was super trained in this? And that determination from Anakin to get good at war--whether it's for the sake of Anakin's own ego and need to excel at everything, or for the sake of keeping Cody's own brothers alive--sparks some interest from Cody. Anakin is trying. He's not good at it, not yet, but he's sharp and he asks good questions, and he doesn't doubt Cody's expertise... at least, not too often.

But Anakin does that to Obi-Wan, too, so Cody doesn't take it personally. This is just Anakin's personality. It's a flaw.

It helps that Anakin is pretty. Cody knows everyone can tell. He's not the only one that's noticed.

Then Anakin gets promoted, they split for a few months of Anakin leading his own legion across the galaxy, and the legions come back together for Christophsis or something, and Cody gets to see that Anakin is more confident now, rather than just bluster and arrogance, that it's in his walk, in how comfortable he is with the arm, in the fact that he grasps Rex's battle plans with an ease that takes even some brother's a while to learn.

And Anakin still, the second they are in proximity, wants approval. Some of it from Obi-Wan, obviously, but some of it from Cody, too.

Cody likes that. He likes that this incredibly powerful, widely respected Jedi (who happens to be very pretty and basically the same age as Cody himself) wants his approval. Wants his attention. Wants to know that he's doing a good job.

Wants a firm hand to tell him when he's wrong, and to praise him when he's right, and to force him to still and settle when he's about to jitter out of his skin.

I think Cody finds Anakin fascinating before he finds him charming or forms an emotional bond with him, but it's a solid place to start from.

(And Anakin just... latched onto a person that was Good At Thing that paid him attention and then gave him positive feedback.)

(That's like half my Anakin ships, though. It is very easy to make this boy fall in love. The real challenge is figuring out how the other person reacts to Anakin being... Intense.)

[masterjedilenawrites]

Thank you!

And yesss i love the idea of a jedi trained under THE Mace Windu yet they cant be taken seriously due to how inexperience they are on the bettle field

Like maybe dispite them being inexperience the clones love them because they truly care for the clones and are very loyal to them they have a heart of a jedi but not that of a general maybe this Jedi knows something isn't right about this war and always gets this sick feeling in their stomach when they are around Anakin but they can't figure out why maybe they try to go for a diplomatic route in most situations but that backfires

I just love the idea of this Jedi just not beinh cutout for war that is not what they signed up for

I want to know about the medic Clone! Pleas tell me more

And yes! That's where my other OC comes in clone CT-9420 otherwise known as Bull lead commander and right hand of Broco of unit 604 Bull is a hardass and takes no bullcrap hence the name he believes there shouldn't be no short cuts to doing things the mission must always be accomplished his color is dark pink along with his unit I like to imagine him and Cody get along great and are actually quite close he cares for Rex but they do bicker about how to run their squad Bull just thinks the 501s need more discipline. So they won't act on impulse and so they won't die that is always Bull's main goal none of his brothers dying Bull is also close with the wolfpack and Fox although he worrys for Fox sanity

Yes Broco survives Order 66 Anakin may have turned to the dark side because of Broco I imagine Padme does call quits with Anakin and confesses to Broco her feelings and Broco for the first time in his life acts impulsively and accepts to being with her during that time Broco trys to tell Anakin but he is to angry and hurt about Padme it isn't until ROTS when picking a new Jedi master they call both Anakin and Broco they of course pick Broco but he declines the offer making everyone shocked Broco reveals he broke the jedi code and fell in love and has been in a relationship with Padme (cue Obi-wan shocked AF face) and that he resigned from being a Jedi he then leaves not unil being confronted by Anakin who is hurt and Pissed Broco tells Anakin that him and Padme never did anything while she was with him it was only until she broke up with Anakin then they started there Relatonship and that he has been trying to tell Anakin for a while Broco soon also reveals that Padme is pregnant with Anakin's kids and that they don't have to hate each other they could work things out to come with him and Padme they could all three talk that there is a solution of course Anakin doesn't listen he is too angry to hurt too heartbroken this is the moment he snaps

In my version Padme stays alive along with Broco and they escape with Obi-wan Broco trys to take Bull with him but Bull is too far gone so him and Padme change their names and raise Luke and Leia in secret afraid Anakin will find them

Well I’m sold! I like this new Jedi you’re helping me create lol. So he trained under Windu, everyone had high expectations for him but because he’s not cut out for war, he feels like he’s failing them. His clones love him, but he can’t quite connect with his fellow Jedi generals, let alone the Senate and any other leaders. He struggles with acid reflux because of his anxiety, which only grows the longer the war goes on…. I’ll just need to think of a good name for him now 🥰

I’ll put the rest under the cut since this post ended up rather long lol.

And then my clone battalion (that this Jedi will lead) is the 116th, with Commander Crowe. He’s the clone in my profile pic lol. He’s a pretty chill guy, lets the squad do whatever they’d like, enjoys kicking his feet up with a beer and some cards, etc. But on the battlefield, he’s hardcore. Best on the defense, can hold the line like nobody’s business, never lets a droid get through. Also competitive and keeps a kill count, which he’s scolded for by other units but doesn’t care.

They picked up a civilian at one point, Dr Joan Vo. Crowe took her under his wing (pun intended) and taught her a lot, and in return she took care of all their medical needs. She became a sister to them.

Sadly… the battalion’s ship does blow up during the height of the war, killing everyone except Joan, who was away at the time. I wrote a little about that part of their story in this chapter of The Sniper and the Medic. I think my new Jedi would have to be on the ship too, unless I want him to somehow survive and maybe find Joan and help her through her survivor’s guilt? I’m not too sure.

Sorry that was a lot to dump! Lol. There’s just a lot to say about these characters 😁

Bull sounds awesome, I love him already. I can totally see him butting heads with a lot of the other clones who aren’t as rigid/strict as him, even my clone Crowe. But perhaps there’s still room for friendships in there, especially if Bull’s main motivation is for all his brothers to live, I don’t think even a reckless clone could argue with that. It’s sad that he ends up swept into carrying out Order 66. Any hope he could snap out of it and leave the Empire, like Cody? Lol

Ahh okay interesting, Broco chooses Padme. What do Luke and Leia think of him? Do they know he’s not really their dad? Does he and Padme end up with any kids of their own?

Also random question, what color’s his lightsaber? I’ll have to think about mine as well hehe

[ace-oreos]

This pride I will be celebrating by being as obnoxious as possible about aro ace Alpha because we need more ace representation dammit

[vagrantblvrd]

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Late-night and also half-assed AU idea times?

The one where Luke gets sent back in time (Because Reasons) to Clone Wars era shenanigans.

Also Because Reasons Obi-Wan is put in charge of keeping an eye on this kid, idk, Biggs Antilles because everyone is so hapless in the Star Wars universe when under pressure, like seriously.

Anyway.

Obi-Wan is suspicious like a suspicious person and so is Anakin and Luke is kind of losing his mind because he never knew (suspected, but never had proof) that old Ben was a goddamned menace and all his lectures to Luke about same are like, wow, dude, wow.

Oh, and also his dad.

And Ahsoka?

And all the clones and everyone else and he’s like, ;____________________; at what could have been, you know?

But also not sure if he’ll ever get back to his time - he really hopes so because there’s this Mandalorian with an adorable kid - and oh, God, he needs to check on Grogu in this time stat, but yes.

Shenanigans in which Luke desperately tries to hide his real identity because everyone’s iike “He feels like Anakin,how strange, and Luke in the corner like “Hahaha, yes, STRANGE. :DDDDDD

And then adventures in which he ends up having to save Obi-Wan more than he ever expected to when he woke up twenty-something years in the past, and oh dear God is that his mom? (Leia looks so much like her. Mostly the angry part right now, because Anakin and recklessly endangering his life and uh, oops, he didn’t mean to eavesdrop???

But like. Luke is kind of bleeding again (he,too, recklessly endangered his life alongside his father and Obi-Wan) and thought medbay was this way and -

Wait, why are you looking at him like that?

Anaking and Padme worried Luke’s going to at them out to, idk, the Jedi council or whatever about their ~forbidden love, and Luke is just.

“What.”

So then the thing about attachments and how they’re bad because emotions is explained to him and Luke looks at his father who clearly loves his mother so much. Thinks about the nonsense about attachment and how scared it would make someone like Anakin, and Obi-Wan -

Luke loves him, but the man’s made mistakes. (And, like. Luke gets it, he does. Some adventure with Obi-Wan and sharing of past loves because they weren’t sure they’d make it out alive and why not share this thing with someone kind of friend-shaped, and anyway,)

Luke is like, okay, wow.

Because one, the thing about attachments is bullshit - show him one Jedi master who isn’t attached to their padawan for starters - and anyway.

Not his business who they love, an then he scurries off to medbay before he bleeds out in hallway or wherever, which is where Obi-Wan finds him and is like  >:((((( at the bleeding thing and :| about the attachment thing but also *SIGH* because Luke reminds him of this padawan he had once, what was his name???

Anyway.

Yes

Also, though, also.

Them taking Luke to Coruscant to meet with the Jedi council because they have no idea where he came from - Luke floated the possibility of time travel being real to Obi-Wan once, but as a hypothetical and really, never mind him - and anyway.

Luke being like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ as they ~question (interrogate) him because he has read up on the Jedi Order and their rules and whatnot. And where he might have been in awe of getting to meet all these Jedi masters once, now he just feels. Pity. He feels pity for them.

It shows, a little, and they call it arrogance for someone so young to think they know better than the entirety of the Jedi council and yet?

Luke doesn’t care.

Which kind of makes him a threat in their eyes, this incredibly powerful Jedi who appeared out of nowhere and shows so little - if any, really - respect for their Order.

And, they realize, who both Obi-Wan and Anakin like.

Ahsoka too, but she’s a padawan, young and such, doesn’t know better.

But also, also, after all the fun-times had with the Jedi council Luke walks out to find Palpatine talking to his father and his mother while Obi-Wan stands by and chips in with a comment or observation every so often and he is like !!! because he never expected this???

Somehow after hearing stories from people, he just. Didn’t expect the fall of the old Jedi Order to take place in a tastefully appointed waiting area, potted plants and chairs and such Maybe one of those little fountains you see in an office sometime for the soothing sound of moving water and whatnot.

Anyway.

Maybe it’s his own personal experience with the man in the throne room on the second Death Star with the dramatic lighting and so on, but it’s a wee bit jarring.

He has one of those “episodes” as the others call them, and gets hustled out of there posthaste while Palpatine is all, “Oh, dear, I do hope he feels better,” and Luke does all the meditating exercises so as not to blurt out that hey, so, that sith lord everyone’s trying to find? RIGHT THERE.

Because lack of evidence and such.

And it’s like.

After seeing what things were like, he’s just. He’s stuck here, probably, right? So. Maybe he can fix things, even a little.

(Right the wrongs that Palpatine wrought and so on.)

And while he’s doing that it occurs to him that Din, okay, Din is alive in this time. And he told Luke about the attack that killed his parents, about being rescued by Mandalorians, and is like.

Can he change that too? Should he? Searches everything he can only to realize he’s too late to do anything about it. That the attack happened before Luke arrived in this time and he has this.

This little breakdown in a library or some such somewhere, because all that fretting and whatnot he did about whether or not he should intervene was for nothing, a moot point because he was too late, and it’s like.

Existential crisis time because if he changes things more than he has, will he even exists in the future? Will Leia?

Will any of their friends exist, and on his way back to the quarters he’s been given he runs into Padme - perhaps sneaking out from visiting Anakin - and she’s surprised to see him, maybe a little worried too.

(She knows his views on the whole attachment thing, yes, but her and Anakin have kept their relationship a secret for a long time now and old habits)

Still, she notices he’s obviously not doing well and they talk for a bit, Luke asking her a hypothetical, like if she could go back in time to  change something to save someone she loved from suffering, would she?

And of course she is like. No, because doing so negates their choices and how would it affect others and so on?

Luke is just, right, of course.

But then she goes on and says, as a person, not a politician, a leader, she absolutely would.

Luke is like, oh, because of course that makes sense, doesn’t it.

Good of the many and so on and anyway.

He goes to his quarters and thinks on it for a bit and realizes, yes okay, the thing with Din was mostly selfish - he wants to say he wouldn’t have done it, but he still doesn’t know  - but Palpatine, okay, Palpatine.

How many million, billions, maybe more, lives was he responsible for? (Luke has his own count for the dead, and monstrously high it may be, but Palpatine is at the heart of all of it.)

So.

He he starts laying the groundwork to expose Palpatine, or maybe just build up, idk, say a Rebel Alliance to oppose him - and discovers that oh, would you look at that.

Because Padme and Bail and their closet conspirators who know something is coming, that Palpatine is surely part of it, but they don’t know the full scope of things.

And honestly, even Luke doesn’t, but.

They think he’s a spy or whatever, and there are all these shenanigans in the meantime, and Luke doing what he can to prove that he’s really on their side, and anyway, anyway.

He plants seeds here and there, everything Leia taight him, everything he picked up, and goes to Obi-Wan for help because his former master and watchdog, and anyway.

Before Luke gets to see if anything he’s done in the past pays off he gets booted back to his time.

Or a version of it.

Ripped back to his time and this moment where he’s sure he’s dead - in the middle of a space battle or collapsing temple somewhere and glowy doohickey, something like that, or, okay, Palpatine trying to kill hi again for the first time - and anyway.

Super disorienting.

Especially when he opens his eyes and Obi-Wan is there along with his father and is that Ahsoka?

But, like.

Older.

Also, though, Din.

And Grogu and Luke is very confused?

But there’s no time for that, as Padme and Leia run in and tell them the Imperials found them, did you get him? Yes, oh, good, and now with the running???

In which they do the running to a familiar ship Luke knows well, and also a few others he likewise knows, and anyway.

They escape just in time because an Imperial fleet was looking for them, and anyway.

Luke is super confused, but that’s okay because exposition time in which he finds out all those seeds he planted worked.

Palpatine was exposed, but didn’t matter because he had contingency plans, you know?

Order 66 never went into effect because someone - Obi-wan was prompted to go back to Kamino and ask after the clones, any...special features that may have been added and anyway.

Palpatine never got his clone army, but he made up for it with battle droids and conscripts and the Empire didn’t win? But neither did the Alliance.

Not yet, anyway, and they’ve been fighting for years at that point. No Death Star - at least not a completed one - and anyway, yes.

Alderaan’s still there, Leia doesn’t have to pretend she can see it in the night sky, and anyway.

A lot has changed but so much is still the same, and everyone, okay, everyone thinks Luke an idiot.

(They’re also not surprised by that, because Skywalker, but yes.)

This whole thing of Luke’s original memories clashing with this new timeline - he keeps his old ones, but it makes for a confusing time, you know? Some point where Luke gets this faraway look and turns to someone - maybe they were dead in that original timeline - and tells them how different everything is.

If they’re feeling brave enough, and honestly most people in Luke’s life are that brave, they ask what he was thinking about to get that look on his face and he’ll tell them about terrible future that didn’t come to pass.

One he feels a little guilty for missing sometimes because those other versions of the people he knew, loved, are gone and he’s the only one who remembers them? But then he’ll see one of them, or someone who was dead in that other timeline and realizes it’s not as simple as that.

Looks at the life he knew before and the one he’s learning now and can’t decide if what he did was the right thing?

But then he’ll catch his parents on a balcony somewhere lost in on another’s eyes and these soft smiles and the love between them that’s grown over the years. Or see Obi-Wan walking about with Cody, and soft smiles and quiet laughter and hundred dozen little moments like that and thinks, selfishly, he doesn’t truly regret it if these people he’s come to love get something like that, you know?

And, then, of course, then Din finds him, or maybe Luke goes back to their quarters on whatever ship or base they’re at then, and he’ll be waiting for him.

They were on the cusp of something when Luke got thrown back in time, but things changed once he got back.

Slow, awkward, because different timelines and experiences, but something new and good, and anyway, anyway.

Din’s there and Luke is being a little (lot) selfish in wanting to keep whatever the two of them are building between them, and Din seems to want the same, and anyway.

Yes????

[themusicplayedherlife]

to love is the greatest gift

3. The Child

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarin x reader | past!obi wan kenobi x satine kryze) characters: f!reader, din djarin, baby djarin obi wan kenobi, anakin skywalker-amidala others word count: 6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, death, longing, slow burn, guilt summary: au! It has never been the right timing for you and obi wan, but maybe this time will be different. a/n: so, this was planned and partly written before we knew grogu’s name, and there’s actually a reason why baby’s name is baby, but probably won’t come up lol — now we’re just upping the ante and I’m not sorry lol if you have any questions about this story or requests, send them my way and I will try my best to answer ☺️

Then.

The loud noises of the bar were swallowed alive by the cars that rushed by and the occasional helicopter that flew overhead—faint music thumping from all directions; neon lights so bright like artificial stars, fading headlights moving in all directions.

Pretty. Picturesque, but not what you focused on for too long.

You moved fast, hand pulsing with pricks of pain and refusing to listen to Obi Wan, who followed closely behind, pleading for you to stop and—will you listen to me? Your determination to get away from him, the bar, and find his stupid piece of junk car in the packed parking lot drove you forward. He already dragged you out, might as well leave altogether—if only Anakin and Padmé would hurry!

“What were you thinking?” he asked after you, voice thick with worry and indignation as he kept up with your quick pace.

“He was being an asshole!”

“So you decided to punch him?” He heaved a sigh, grabbing your wrist and keeping you from continuing (or from running away from his impending lecture). “A man twice your size?”

You jerked away from his hold, refusing to meet his gaze and find disappointed blue eyes staring back at you. “You didn’t hear what he was saying—”

“Oh, I heard perfectly, my dear, but I wasn’t about to engage with some drunkard.” He said it so dismissively and judgmentally that you recoiled, the anger you managed to release earlier coming back tenfold, but this time for a different reason. 

Why did he always have to be so non confrontational, so unlike Anakin and his hit-first-think-later personality? Why couldn’t he allow himself to get angry even for only a moment? Why did everyone else have to get angry for him? More importantly, why did you have to get angry for him? You don’t understand!

“How are you not mad then?” you outcried, throwing your hands up in the air. “He called you—”

“Why would I be?” He smiled, like he knew something you didn’t, and it only made you more frustrated. “I have you to defend my honor.”

“That's—Obi Wan! Seriously?” Maker, he was too much! “Take this seriously, will you?”

He chuckled and reached for your hand, the same one that had glocked the giant’s jaw. It hurt, a lot, much more than you were willing to admit, but in Obi Wan’s hands, the pain felt nonexistent. 

“I didn’t expect you to hit him.” You wished he looked at you, showed you what he was thinking. He squeezed your hand in his, inspecting it gently. “Could’ve gotten hurt.” He sighed again. “I wanted to—needed you safe.”

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with saying those things about you,” you murmured, the cold air harsh in your throat, hard to swallow, but his hand was warm—he was warm.

“I know.” He ran his thumb over the area, careful to not cause you more discomfort—always so careful and sweet with you. But there was something swimming in those eyes of his, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place as they followed the movements of his thumb. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” you murmured.

“You could never.” He lifted your hand higher and you allowed him to—let his warm breath fan over your stinging skin. “My little warrior.”

Lips connected with your knuckles—soft, plush, delicate, and your breath hitched—he was never this bold with you, always keeping you at a certain distance for as long as you could remember—his darling, but never truly his.

“I am envious of the person you will choose to spend the rest of your life with,” he said, hesitant—barely breaking through the blood rushing in your ear—wanting to say more than what he was allowing himself to; hand dared to push back a stray piece of hair that couldn’t stay in place, choosing to dance with the wind. “Your future family will be lucky to have you.”

Now.

Din’s love can be powerful and kind. But he is also a man with too many layers and shields up to protect himself from the onslaught of cruelty life can gift to one human being.  

Someone once told you (joked really) that loving him was like the age old question of how many licks did it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop. It was a stupid analogy then and it’s still a stupid analogy now, but it didn’t make it any less fitting.

Anakin never understood your relationship with Din, seeing only the surface level of the man you were once in love with. Padmé saw beyond the gruff and tough exterior, but she grew worried that you’d expend too much of your love and energy to get to where he could finally return it with equalness.

And she was right.

Sometimes, it was too much, and the selfish part of you wanted to walk away many times; wanted to give up the patience that you had thought you’d nurtured and grown over the years. But you’d fought against that selfish part of you, stood strong and tall as you worked through all of his layers of armor. Loved him and his toddler that you saw as your own (because he was, he was much more yours than the mother that left him on Din’s doorstep a couple of years ago).

It was Din who gave in first, the struggle of having someone wanting to be part of his life, wanting to give their all to him was so foreign to the poor man that sometimes he didn’t know what to do other than fight against it—against your love. 

Even if he was the one to end it, there was no denying he had loved you, loved you in ways that were intimate, kind, and sweet. He made you feel things that no one else had, made your mind and body sing in ways that you sometimes search for in other partners.

Although the love you share now is different, like friends that have seen each other grow and blossom into who they are today, you don’t regret the time you spent learning and loving each other. He’s the first real, adult relationship you have ever had (and in a way you’re his first too), after all. You don’t regret any of it.

You don’t think he does, either.

“Are you sure you can watch Baby?” His fretting is still as cute as ever, worried that he’s asking too much of you. He knows Baby is yours as much as he is his, but his insecurities always get the best of him.

“Yes, yes!” You wave him away, too busy focusing on your little one with his chubby hands grabbing at your necklace. Maker, how you adore him. “I don’t have any meetings today”—thankfully—“I only have to go over the checklist for the Winter Charity Gala.” You finally spare him a glance as he hovers by the door. “Besides, people love babies, and if they don’t we could just switch guides or kick them out—either or, isn’t that right, my little womp rat?”

Baby giggles, slapping your chest gently in excitement, his little legs squeezing your middle as you balance him with one hand holding him and the other holding his leg. “Yes!”

He sighs heavily, muttering your name like he used to when you “sacrificed” nights to help him when Baby was teething and wouldn’t let him sleep. 

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Stop it, Din. It’s fine. My work is flexible and besides, I've been wanting to spend more time with Baby during the week, anyway.” 

His expression falls and his eyes fill with remorse, and stars are you a horrible person. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad!

“Din, I didn’t mean it like that.” You would never blame him for spending time with his son. The fact that he even lets you take him on weekends or even spend days with him during the week is such a huge thing. You’re not Baby’s mom, but Din lets you be his mom. “I just meant I love spending time with Baby.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks.

“Don't be! You do more than enough,” you assure him, berating yourself for even making him think you don’t appreciate what he does for you. “You don’t need to let me spend time with Baby, but you do. You make sure I do.”

“Of course, I could do no less,” he says, soft and warm, like the blankie you and Din bought Baby when he turned one. “You are Baby’s buir. Blood or no blood.” He closes the distance between you and wraps his arm around you and Baby, pressing his forehead against yours. “We are family.”

You look up at him with glassy eyes, and he smiles down at you, kind and tenderly. His own eyes glassy and the area around his eyes red. “Family,” you repeat, heart bursting in your throat.

“Family!” Baby exclaims, making you and Din burst into wet laughter.

“That’s right, ad’ika,” Din says, rubbing Baby’s back. “Who am I?”

“Papa!”

“And who am I?”

“Mama!” It never gets old hearing him call you that.

“Our Baby is so smart,” you coo, kissing his chubby cheeks loudly, making him giggle and lean into you for more kisses that you’re willing to give. “So, so smart!”

There’s a knock on the door and Din moves just slightly to where you could see the door as you ask who it is.

“It’s, uh, Obi Wan.” Your breath hitches, the hold you have on Baby tightening slightly—I’ve missed you, my dear. I will see you soon; warmth on a cold night, hands brushing hair away from eyes and tears away—shit.

“Who?” 

Glancing at Din, you realize you haven’t told him about Obi Wan’s sudden return… visit… whatever this is, not two nights ago when you showed up at his apartment and asked if you could spend the night or yesterday morning when you woke up with puffy eyes and made them a breakfast too large for a family of three. 

His eyebrows furrow in question, trying to figure out who Obi Wan is on his own. He practically knows everyone you work with or are friends with except for Obi Wan, whose picture he has definitely seen and name he has definitely heard offhandedly from Anakin and the others but can’t quite place. 

“Come in, Obi.” It’s a slip of the tongue, an affectionate nickname that you can’t quite stop yourself from saying even in the presence of an ex-lover.

“Obi?” Din mouths.

You really owe him an explanation.

“I’m sorry about my sudden intrusion, darling. Anakin”—of course Anakin has something to do with this—“had hoped we could have lunch together. He’s sent me—” The door opens slowly and Obi Wan peers into the room, almost as if afraid to enter. And with good reason, when he sees Din and Baby his mouth falls slightly agape at the unexpected sight and he trails off. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company, if I had known—”

“It’s fine, Obi Wan,” you interject softly, hiking Baby higher on your hip. He’s getting bigger and heavier now, harder to hold, but it doesn’t stop you from carrying your little one. “You’re not interrupting.”

“I was just leaving,” Din follows, glancing at you with intrigue and the silent question of—who is he? You exhale softly.

“Din, this is Obi Wan Kenobi, an… old friend of mine and Luke and Leia’s godfather.” Recognition flashes in his eyes. “Obi Wan, this is Din Djarin.”

“It is nice to finally meet you.” Din moves away from you to offer his hand to Obi Wan, who accepts it. “I have heard a lot about you.”

“As have I,” Obi Wan says, stern and firm, guarded and completely unlike the Obi Wan you once knew. 

Din raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything while you groan internally. What exactly has Anakin been feeding Obi Wan?

“What about Baby?” The little one in your arms squirms indignantly and you laugh, finding him looking at you with a scrunched up face, displeased that you haven’t introduced him, yet.

“I’m sorry, honey.” You nuzzle his little button nose with yours, closing some distance between you and Obi Wan. “Obi Wan, this is Baby Djarin, Din’s son.”

“Our,” Din corrects, shooting you a look.

“Right.” You bite your lip to hide your wide smile, ducking your head before nodding. “Our son.”

Obi Wan blinks, taken aback by the sudden information, and you don’t blame him. You’ll have to explain this situation to him, since apparently Anakin and Padmé chose to omit this part of your life from him, at a later date. (You ignore the fact that you have as well, but then again, you weren’t the one that kept in touch with him after he left the second time, and it’s not like you’ve had a chance to tell him since he got back either.)

He clears his throat and a smile settles on his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It is a pleasure to meet you too, little one.”

Baby is absolutely delighted that Obi Wan is offering his hand, practically jumping out of your arms to shake his hand. Din quickly balances him and you by placing a hand in your back and another on Baby’s tummy.

“Careful,” he murmurs, which makes Baby pout and mutter, “No, thank you,” even though he’s straightening up. Chuckling, he ruffles his son’s curls. “I should get going.”

“Good luck,” you tell him, watching him lean down to kiss the top of Baby’s brown curls. “There’s no doubt you’ll get the job.”

He sighs, a corner of his lips lifting into an unsteady smile. He’s nervous. “I hope so.”

“Hey, you’re going to do great,” you assure him firmly. “You know all the ins and out, and have Cara and Greef vouching for you. You are more than qualified for this position.”

He cracks a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” He doesn’t sound super convinced, but he still manages to nod resolutely and picks up his sling bag, but then he pauses. “You sure this is fine?”

You roll your eyes again. “Yes, Din. It’s fine. Baby being here is no trouble at all. The team loves him.”

“Okay. Okay. Just—I’ll try to head back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time and don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

His head tilts slightly, but then he nods, finally relenting. Turning to Obi Wan, he says, “Again, it was nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” Obi Wan supplies back, it’s still tense and stern, but there’s something else too, something detached and unfocused.

Din doesn’t let it bother him, instead focusing on his son. “Bye, Baby.”

“Bye, Papa!”

“I’ll see you both later.”

“Yeah, yeah, go!” you urge. He shoots you a look and you laugh. “Go.” 

Din finally slips out the door but not without another kiss to Baby’s head.

“Son?” Obi Wan breaks his silence as you put Baby down.

He’s quick to run to his bag and pull out a blanket, handing it to you to place for him on the floor, in front of the blue, grey loveseat. Din and you always place it on top to make it easy to take out, and after seeing you and his dad do it so many times, Baby just knows his ground blanket is always on top.

“Yes.” You spread the blanket out, smoothing it, and Baby tries to help by grabbing the corners and tugging.

“How old is he?”

“Hey, Baby,” you faux whisper, “wanna tell Obi how old you are?”

Holding up four fingers in Obi Wan’s direction, he practically yells, “Thwee, almost four!”

Obi Wan chuckles, thoroughly amused at how excited Baby is to share his age and his inability to truly say the letter r. “Wow! You’re so big.”

“Yes,” Baby says, dropping himself onto his bottom once he’s satisfied with how you’ve laid out the blanket. “Very big!”

“He’s turning four in a month,” you inform him with a smile, sitting down next to your little one. “It’s why he’s starting to put up four fingers. Luke and Leia have been teaching him.”

“So Anakin and Padmé know?”

“Of course they do. Why wouldn’t they?”

His eyebrows furrow and he looks away from you for a moment. “They didn't mention it to me.”

“Oh.” Probably because Anakin didn’t think they’d be part of my life after Din and I broke up. But that’s not what you voice, instead you say, “I figured they hadn’t with how you reacted earlier.”

“Baby is from a previous relationship of his?” He wasn’t, not exactly, but Obi Wan doesn’t need to know what isn’t your information to give. “And you and Din are co-parenting?” He raises an eyebrow, a perfectly arched eyebrow, and it reminds you so much of the young Obi Wan Kenobi that you’d try so hard to impress with your ever growing knowledge.

You’re sure he doesn’t mean to sound like he’s being judgmental, but it sure as hell sounds like it when he stares at you like that—like he’s questioning your choices. You don’t like it. Never did.

“Baby was only a few months old when he came into our lives.”

“You have grown attached.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, a heavy loaded statement, one you don’t know if you even want to begin to decipher.

You sigh slowly and say, “Yes, Obi Wan. I am attached.” Baby slaps his hands on your thighs, grinning toothily, and you smooth his hair away from his wide, brown eyes. “How could I not be? We are family. Blood or no blood.”

“I see.” He wants to say more, you can tell by the way he speaks his words slowly, with restraint.

Something bubbles in your stomach, nothing pleasant. It's anger and frustration and this need to yell at him like when you were both younger and less mature. It only ever happened when he wasn’t listening to you, treating you like you had no idea what you were doing or saying. It was rare those moments, mostly born from lack of sleep from all-nighters focused on essays and exams, or sometimes born from nothing at all, just bad luck and circumstance.

It makes you want to push, just like then; to force him to tell you exactly what he wants to say. It’s never stopped him before, so why now? But Baby babbling in full sentences to himself while trying to pull his toys out of his bag reminds you that you are not that person anymore, haven’t been that person in such a long time. And maybe it’s for the best.

 “Wed truck?” Baby asks, showing off the newest toy in his collection, and when you place your hand out, thinking he wants to give it to you, he stands on his two little feet and walks over to Obi Wan, careful to not trip over the blanket. “Cheer up, pwease. Wed truck will help!”

Any hint of anger or frustration or hurt that may have remained, dissipates as Baby looks up at the standing man, his little hand holding onto his pant leg and the other holding up the truck. 

Obi Wan stares down at him, and that earlier aloofness, that stern way he regarded Din, and even you with, is gone, replaced by something tender, warm and soft. “Thank you, Baby,” he says, dropping to his eye level and gingerly taking the truck from chubby hands—the toy that seems so big in Baby’s hand completely swallowed by his larger one.

Baby lets out a pleased giggle and tilts his head, grabbing onto Obi Wan’s knees. “You're very welcome!” With a random smooch to Obi Wan’s nose, he moves away from him and makes his way over to you, grinning proudly.

Obi Wan stands, watching the little boy fondly as you ruffle his hair, giving him a wet kiss to his cheek that makes him laugh loudly. “You’re raising a wonderful boy, both you and Din.”

You pause your onslaught of kisses—Baby managing to slip away from your grasp—and you watch him closely, love filling your chest. “I like to believe we are.”

Baby moves to his bag and pulls out his learning tablet, immediately plopping down with it and opening up the case to pull up one of his many learning apps. It had taken you and Din a long time to finally give in and get him the darn thing, but Padmé had vouched for the item. Now Baby can’t have enough of it, always curious about everything and waving the thing in your face occasionally to ask you a question.

“I always knew your future family would be lucky,” he says, far away look in his eyes and smile barely lifted—there, just not wide. Your breath stutters. “You and Din make a lovely couple.”

Did he not know? Is this why he didn’t know about baby?

“Obi—” Your eyebrows furrow and you find yourself standing, tentatively reaching for his hand—and why do you feel like easing whatever turmoil he is in?—“Din and I… we care for eachother, deeply. He is my friend, the father of my child, but he and I—we haven’t been together in such a long time.”

“Maker.” He breathes in and out, squeezing your hand and lifting it to his face. “I have no right to be—I have been gone for too long, haven’t I?” He rests it against the slope of his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. “Missed out too much on your life. You’ve grown so much.” 

“So have you,” you whisper, allowing him to press kisses to your palm, wanting nothing more than to weave your hands into his hair. You repeat the words, because it’s true. You can see it in his tired eyes, how they don’t shine as they once used to—the lines that have appeared at the edge of his eyes and the beard he’s starting to grow out, keeping it nice and trim.

“Not as much as you think, my darling.” He chuckles, kissing your wrist one last time and just allowing your hand to cradle his cheek. “Appearance wise, maybe. But mentally…”

“That can’t be true. You wouldn’t be here if it were.” Even if it’s only for a couple of days.

“Perhaps.”

Baby giggles and you briefly glance at him. He’s perfectly content, mouthing words and sounding them out.

“If I,” Obi Wan starts, stealing your attention from your baby, “if I told you I wanted to stay, what would you say?”

Your throat swallows—dry, like sandpaper, eyes wide as they study him, searching for a semblance of uncertainty or lie in his words. Perhaps for a confirmation that this isn’t a cruel joke meant to tug at your heartstring and pull them apart until you’ve become undone. There is nothing in his clear, blue eyes that tells you it is. 

But you know that Obi Wan wouldn’t say something like this without it holding some truth.

He waits patiently for you, eyes searching yours just as intensely—but he’s worried, eyes wavering, unconfident.

This isn’t you. This isn’t him. This topsy-turvy, unstable relationship where you’re trying to figure out the other person, learn who they have become in the years lost without asking or finding a reason to talk. No, your relationship was always about comfort, knowing the other by watching and observing, of making the other feel safe—at home.

You know how to respond, “I would say: welcome home, Obi Wan Kenobi.”

“I’m home,” his voice hoarse and thick, “my little warrior.”

Your mouth falls open—the words, the question: “are you truly staying?” stuck in your throat and trying to form on your tongue, but you’re in disbelief. “Obi-Wan, what—”

A small arm slivers around your leg, and you stumble forward from the startle and momentum, knocking into Obi Wan. Strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you upright and steady against his chest. Your eyes lock onto blue ones in surprise and he mumbles a soft, “Hello, there.”

You huff under your breath, mumbling your own, “hello” and he smiles at the sound. Ignoring the flutter in your tummy and chest (blaming it on the stumble you almost took), you glance down to find Baby with an arm wrapped around Obi Wan’s leg and yours, hugging you both tightly. 

“Welcome home, Obi,” he exclaims when you both glance down.

Obi Wan laughs loud, head thrown back and hair falling over his eyes—your heart constricts at the sight. When was the last time you saw him laugh like this—not in pictures or videos but in person? 

Too long, your heart supplies in a broken whisper.

“Why thank you, little one.” He slowly untangles himself from you and crouches down in front of Baby, brushing his curls away from his face. “Would you like to see a magic trick?”

“Magic?” Baby claps, letting out an excited chirp of agreement, ready to be wowed by whatever Obi Wan was about to show him. “Yes, please!”

Warmth takes over you as you watch how gentle Obi Wan is with Baby, which doesn’t surprise you. But it hits differently when it’s your own child he’s being sweet to. Is this what it would’ve been like if he had given you both a chance? Kids of your own? Marriage?

Your phone rings, pulling you out of a spiral of thoughts you would rather not go down when he’s present. You thank the maker for the timely call and answer without a thought—“Anakin.”

“Where are you?”

You sigh, turning away from Obi Wan and Baby to focus on your shelves full of astronomy books. “I’m not coming to lunch.”

Baby squeals in delight and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as he grabs the quarter Obi Wan produced from thin air.

“Is that the little womp rat I hear?” You hummed in agreement, briefly explaining why Baby is with you and not his father. “That usually doesn’t stop you from coming out to lunch with me.”

Baby shows you the coin and you mouth an excited, “Woah, that’s amazing!” He laughs giddily and returns it to Obi Wan, asking him to do it again.

You briefly glance at Obi Wan and Baby and lock eyes with the former. You offer him a small smile before quickly turning away. “You have something to tell him, don’t you? You said you would.”

“I—I know.”

“Not so easy, is it?” you murmur, trying to make a joke out of it, but it falls flat, and you know it does when he sighs.

“I’ll do it. I will,” he affirms. “Rip it off like a bacta strip.”

“Ani, you don’t have to.”

He’s quiet for a moment and when he breaks it, his voice does too, “I owe him this much.”

This much. Clean—the air was too clean when there was blood and death and—stop!

You shake your head and your heart drops to your stomach. Stars. You should’ve figured this had nothing to do with Obi Wan but everything to do with Anakin. Maker, how stupid could you have been? You were so worried about you and Obi Wan that you neglected Anakin completely!

“Ani—“ your breath stutters.

“Darling?” You turn around, and Obi Wan stands only a few steps away from you, Baby sitting on his forearm as if weighed nothing—blue eyes watching you worriedly. “Everything all right?”

No.

“Yes.” You clear your throat. “I think Baby and I will be joining you for lunch, afterall.” Anakin says your name, and you cut him off. “We’ll meet you by the pendulum.” Anakin once more says your name, but you hang up on him.

“Shall we get going?” You meet Obi Wan’s gaze with a shaky smile, pushing your hair away from your face. 

There was never a dull moment when it was you, Padmé, and Obi Wan. Your headmistress used to call you and Padmé trouble, wondering how it was possible you two could influence each other so badly and still keep up with your grades—as if sneaking out and fooling around occasionally was so blasphemous.

Things only got livelier when you graduated and Anakin moved to Coruscant. Thankfully for your headmistress’ blood pressure, you were long gone, starting university and finally moving into the apartment your parents had promised you would be yours (and Anakin’s). Instead, you were giving Obi Wan headaches and Padmé heart palpitations.

Much to their dismay and your amusement.

“Remember when you punched the guy?”

“Don’t remind me!” You groan, clutching your hand. “My hand still hurts whenever I think of that night.”

“If I remember correctly, Anakin also punched him,” Obi Wan says pointedly in Anakin’s direction. “And that ultimately got us banned from the bar.”

“To be fair, he was asking for it.” Anakin shrugs. “I only finished the job she started.”

“Go!” Padmé yelled, louder and with much force than Anakin. 

“What?” You didn’t even get to finish the word as the large man you had punched emerged from the bar, blood caked to his face and eye swollen beyond belief—which you know for a fact you didn’t do. And he wasn’t alone; four other men with menacing mugs followed after him, heads whipping in different directions—until they landed in your direction.

Your eyes widened and your heart dropped to your stomach—that’s not good. “Kriff!” 

Without waiting for the others, Obi Wan took your hand in his and began to lead you away from the parking lot, ignoring your sudden yelp at being tugged in the opposite direction of where you were positive he parked his car. 

“What did you do, Anakin?” Obi Wan yelled back at the twenty year old, who looked far too amused by the situation than he should’ve been.

“Gave him a little taste of what he deserved!”

Padmé yelled something, voice drowned out by a motorcycle rushing by you, but it was followed by laughter so loud it overpowered the sounds of the ever alive city.

“What was it that Padme said while we were running?” you ask, trying to remember with narrowed eyes.

“That they couldn’t take us anywhere nice,” Anakin says with a shit eating grin.

You scoff, muttering, “That’s right,” while turning to Baby to make sure he was finishing his soup.

“And she was right.” Obi Wan shakes his head. “Having to pick up my car from the tow yard was a nightmare the next morning.”

“Hey! Padmé and I thought you two were already in the car.” Anakin gestures between you and Obi Wan. “I was kind of chancing on our getaway car being ready, but no, instead you two were just standing there in the middle of the parking lot.”

Lips connected with your knuckles—soft, plush, delicate and your breath hitched—he was never this bold with you, always keeping you at a certain distance for as long as you could remember—his darling, but never truly his.

The corners of your lips drop and you try to pick them up again as best as you can, hoping it doesn’t look like a grimace. It does. You know it does with how Obi Wan’s smile wavers and Anakin glances between you with a raised brow.

“Well,” Obi Wan starts, hoping to remove the uncomfortable veil that has fallen over you, “it’s a birthday I’ll never forget.”

“It was a good one, wasn’t it?” Anakin takes the bait, recalling that night fondly. “But nothing beats turning 18 and finally moving to Coruscant, for me.”

You laugh under your breath and Obi Wan chuckles, both sounding a little strained, but Anakin doesn't seem to notice. Probably for the best.

“All done,” Baby suddenly celebrates, raising his arms with glee in your direction.

“Good job, you little womp rat!” Anakin reaches for Baby and cleans his face with a napkin, your little one allowing him to do so, unlike when you try to do it. While Anakin might have some thoughts towards Din, there was no denying Baby holds a spot in Anakin’s soft heart.

“I’ll get the check,” Obi Wan offers, waving to get the attention of your waiter. You’re about to refute him, but Anakin nudges your shoe and shakes his head. Sighing softly, you close your mouth and watch him give up his card to the young man that had been serving your table.

“Thank you,” you whisper gratefully and he smiles at you.

“It’s my pleasure, darling.”

With your meal paid and Obi Wan’s card returned to him, you exit the restaurant with Baby holding your hand and walking, refusing to be held and carried to the trolley. It means you’ll be walking slower, but maybe this is exactly what you need to be able to tell Obi Wan—more time.

You and Anakin exchange looks and he gives you a little nod while you let out a sigh—it’s now or never. 

Rip it off like a bacta strip, little one.

“Obi Wan,” you start slowly, “there’s something we need to tell you.”

He pauses mid walk and steps aside to leave an area of the sidewalk free for people to walk by. It’s a busy day, even for a weekday, but it’s not surprising. The plaza and park near the Observatory are always busy on bright, sunny days.

“We’ve been—we’ve been having—” Anakin lets out a growl of annoyance, struggling to be able to form the words. His eyebrows scrunch up and he scowls, and you gently pull him back with a squeeze of his shoulder. He glances at you and you tilt your head to the side.

He sighs and steps aside, taking Baby from you and leading him over to the grassy field to distract him for a few minutes.

“Is everything all right?” There’s a hint of panic in Obi Wan’s words and you quickly nod to try and dispel it.

“Yes!” He’s taken aback by the volume of your voice and you soften your next words, “Everything is fine. There’s just something he’s—we’ve been wanting to tell you for quite some time.” Now that your hands are unoccupied, you wring them and keep your eyes leveled with his chest. “Every year, for the past few years, we—we’ve been visiting your father’s resting place,” you whisper, afraid of what speaking these words aloud might do to him. Last time you tried telling him, he shut down the idea before you could even bring it up completely. 

“I—I see,” he answers with trepidation, unsure.

“Everyone gets together to clean the area and replace the flowers we leave for him when we visit.”

“I—I appreciate it.”

“And when we’re done we go home and we—”

“You honor my father,” he says hoarsely, finishing it off for you.

“It’s what he wanted,” you murmur. And it was. He knows this. He was present when Qui Gon said so. “We would—we would like it if you joined us, Obi Wan. Everyone brings a dish and we have live music, and we share stories—”

“I—I see… and when is this happening?”

“The day before—”

“The day before he passed,” he once again finishes for you and you nod hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze, and although he’s already looking at you, his eyes are glazed over, not exactly focused on you.

“Obi—”

He takes a step back and clears his throat. “I’m sorry, darling. I—I need to go.”

Not again. Please, not again!

“Obi—” you try once more, reaching for his hand, but he jerks away and your hand falls, grasping the empty space between the two of you—again.

“Please tell Anakin I will speak to him soon.” He turns on his heels and swiftly walks away—shoulders tense and never once looking back.

“You must let go when the time comes, little one.”

Your shoulders sag, letting out a shaky breath as Anakin comes to a stop beside you. There’s no need to look at him to know he’s been hurt by Obi Wan’s reaction, because you have been too. But what is there to expect of a person who doesn’t want to let go of the dead?

Obi Wan was right, he hasn’t changed at all, and you were a fool to hope otherwise. 

“Let’s go,” you break the silence, taking Baby from him and placing Anakin’s hand—that hand—in yours, not missing the way it trembles in your hold.

Mando’a translations

Buir = parents/son/daughter

Ad’ika = my child

[isitmadness]

What Keeps Us Alive

summary: Obi-Wan, Cody, and the very few remnants of the 212th make their way back to Coruscant after Order 66. Beyond dealing with the emotional fallout, they need to find a way to locate the inhibitor chips and remove them before they're triggered again.

characters/relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Commander Cody, Longshot, Boil, Cross (original clone character); established Obi-Wan/Cody

words: 3.5k

a/n: This was written for day 1 of @codywanweek 2020 - the theme for which was hurt/comfort. It’s part two of ‘The War is Over.’ This is also chapter 1 of part 2 (sorry for the confusion lol)...so there will be 1 more chapter coming!

Read it on a03

It was a relief to be back on board the Vigilance even if it was still in orbit above Utapau. The planet where everything felt like it was finally starting to go right...and instead went horribly wrong. General Grievous had been defeated, after years of the chase. But the victory felt hollow, meaningless.

He ended up not only fighting Grievous, but Cody. Cody had tried to kill him, too, and if this truly was the entire Galactic Army of the Republic...if all the clones had faithfully carried out Order 66 throughout the galaxy, the Jedi were...gone. Obi-Wan was desperate to get home to Coruscant but afraid of what he’d find there.

His bond with Anakin was also gone - ripped from his mind like Qui-Gon’s once was. He couldn’t even comprehend the loss. How could his former padawan, friend, and brother have been taken from him, too?

Grief was an attachment, he knew this...and yet…

Focus on the here and now. He needed medical assistance. Cody definitely needed medical assistance, as did Boil and Longshot. The rest of the 212th Attack Battalion? Well, they were also gone. Another ache that sat like an anchor on Obi-Wan’s chest.

After making the jump to hyperspace, Obi-Wan strode from the command center to the medbay, afraid of what he would find. He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and held it in his hand, ready. He had no real intention of using it, no matter what he promised Cody, but…

-----

In the medbay, Cody had stripped down to his blacks and sat on the edge of an exam table. His broken and dented armor was piled on the floor at his feet. The orange markings were a point of pride only a few hours ago: pride in his battalion, pride in their general, and if he was honest, a little pride in himself in what he had been able to accomplish. It was an honor to be sent on such an important mission.

He rather felt like his armor, a broken mess of a man. Every bone and muscle in his body ached, outdone only by the throbbing thunderstorm raging in his head. His eyes followed the medic, Cross, as he worked his way between Boil and Longshot, tending to their worst injuries.

Beyond the physical pain, the emotional and mental turmoil of losing so many of his brothers AND turning on his general was crushing. Not even to mention remembering that he hadn’t truly believed Fives about the inhibitor chips. Like everyone else, he accepted the report that he and Tup had succumbed to a virus picked up on Ringo Vinda. If he could go back and...no. He couldn’t change the past.

“Cody?” All their heads snapped towards the door where their general hovered, unsure. He looked tired, worn, and unusually small. Cody’s attention was drawn from Obi-Wan’s face when he noticed the movement of his hand near his waist. He was clipping his lightsaber to his belt. Good, Cody thought, he at least came prepared.

“General,” Cross looked away from where he was splinting Boil's wrist and nodded. The other men followed suit.

Obi-Wan cautiously walked in and stood in the middle of the room, assessing the situation. He took in the four remaining men's nearly-identical faces. "How are you all feeling? What’s the status on these...these inhibitor chips?”

Despite what he had just been through, Obi-Wan was back to General Kenobi. Something twisted in Cody’s gut.

“Well, we’ve all had a scan from the medical droid,” Cross started. “And...they show nothing.”

That was unexpected and incredibly concerning. Obi-Wan stroked his beard, deep in thought. Cody smiled to himself at the gesture. “That is some unfortunate news. But how do you all feel?"

“The inside of my head feels like there’s a herd of banthas stomping around,” Boil murmured in a gravelly voice. “Sir.”

Obi-Wan waved a hand through the air dismissively. “I think, Boil, that we don’t need to stand on ceremony. Call me Obi-Wan. I have a feeling I am no longer a general.”

Longshot scoffed and narrowed his eyes. “So, why do you trust us? How do you know we aren’t going to snap again any second and take you out? Which undoubtedly will be the last thing we do...”

Cody jumped off the table and came to stand next to Obi-Wan. “Longshot, that’s enough. We don’t need--”

“It’s quite alright, Commander,” Obi-Wan settled a hand on Cody’s shoulder, locking eyes with him. Cody flushed - sometimes Obi-Wan had such an intense way of looking at him, that Cody had to look away. “You seem like Longshot, Boil, Cross, and Cody, and that’s enough for me right now. How many times have you all been right beside me on the battlefield? How is this battle any different? And I...may be a Jedi, but I have no plans whatsoever to hurt any of you,” Obi-Wan said sternly.

He walked over to Boil’s bedside. “Are you in terrible pain, Boil?”

Boil shrugged, removed his arm and squinted at his general, “I mean...it’s a pretty bad headache, but nothing I can’t handle, sir.”

Obi-Wan looked up and around at all the troopers. They all nodded, indicating they felt the same way. “What can we do, Cross? For all of you.”

Cross shook his head slowly and exhaled. “I admit, I’m at a loss...I don’t know what to do. If I can't locate a chip on the scan, I don't know where to look...obviously. I can't just open up Longshot's head, for example, and dig around."

"He might deserve that though," Boil snarked.

Obi-Wan smiled softly, appreciative that the men had kept their sense of humor. “Well, I think this is going to take more thought and research. But, in the meantime, the least I could do is try to give you all some measure of relief? That is, if you trust me to accomplish such a thing.”

“Sir, you don’t have to--” Cody started.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Cody. I'm no healer, but I would do it gladly, especially if it would help you.”

“All of us?” Longshot questioned, quietly.

Obi-Wan smiled gently. "Of course. So, who’s first?”

All four men hesitated and looked at each other. “Why not Cross? So he can go about his medic business for the rest of us without the pain?” Cody suggested.

Obi-Wan nodded, “I think that’s an excellent idea, Commander.”

Cross sat down on the end of the exam bed where Boil lay. “Well then, do your worst, General.”

Obi-Wan spent time with Cross, Longshot, and Boil, giving them all the Force healing he could, hoping it would stick around long enough to help them feel somewhat better. Now that his head was throbbing less, Cross sat at his desk and continued his research since he was able to focus again. Longshot and Boil left the medbay to return to their own quarters for some much-needed rest. It was finally Cody’s turn.

Obi-Wan walked over and stood in front of where Cody had sat back down on the exam table. “General, I can tell when you’re drained...please do not worry about me. We have painkillers and that will help cut through the worst of it for now.”

He put a warm hand on the top of Cody’s left thigh and moved closer to stand between his knees. “Commander, I feel like it’s my duty to tell you when you’re being ridiculous,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “This is one of those times.”

With the general this close, Cody could finally see how worn, bruised, and tired Obi-Wan was himself. There were holes and tears all over his clothes, and he was pretty sure they were even still damp. He also could see that the bruise on his right cheek was darker now. And knowing that he was the one who put it there, hurt Cody more than he could say. He desperately wished to wrap his arms around his Jedi and pull him close. Instead, he laid a hand over Obi-Wan’s and just shook his head. “Fine.”

Obi-Wan lifted his hands to either side of Cody’s face, wanting nothing more than to pull his face close and kiss him, but well, Cross was still around and that wouldn’t exactly be a good idea. Somehow Cody knew what Obi-Wan was thinking anyway and gave him a small smile. It was Obi-Wan’s turn to flush. He cleared his throat. “Well, let’s see what I can do.” Obi-Wan adjusted his hands, rubbing his thumbs across Cody’s cheekbones, and closed his eyes to slowly sink into the Force one more time.

With the Jedi's eyes closed, Cody took the opportunity to take in the face he loved so well. The bruise would fade in time, thankfully, but otherwise, he was still his Obi-Wan. Those crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the freckles that dusted his cheeks, that mole in the middle of this forehead, the grey in his beard and at both temples - they were all details that Cody had fallen in love with. But then beyond those features he loved, he noticed the twitching behind his eyelids, the furrowed brow, and even a drop of sweat that had suddenly formed at his hairline and was slowly rolling down his forehead. He was displaying signs of overtaxing himself and Cody wanted to stop him.

Why was he giving of his life-force for someone who had just tried to kill him?

Because I love you. His general’s lips didn’t move, but Cody heard the answer as clear as day. He sat up straighter wondering how it was possible.

Finally, Obi-Wan’s eyes slowly fluttered open, those stormy blue irises meeting warm, dark amber. “Well?” Obi-Wan’s warm smile nearly made Cody melt.

Cody blinked a few times. “I...it’s so much better. Thank you, sir.”

“Obi-Wan,” he reminded him as he caressed his cheek with his thumb once more then dropped his hands. Cody reached out and grabbed Obi-Wan’s fingers to give them two quick squeezes - their code for ‘I love you.’

“You need some rest, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, finally backing out of Cody’s personal space. “Why not go join the men and sleep?”

“I must admit the offer is very tempting. But what about the ship?” He leaned forward slightly and put a hand on Obi-Wan’s waist. “What about you? Who’s going to make sure you get rest and medical attention?”

Obi-Wan smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Well, Cross is busy, but I’m sure I can beg him for some medical attention. And I can keep the ship flying, don’t worry about me. You need the rest. No arguments.”

Cody slid off the table and stood, stretching. “It’s my job to worry about you.”

Obi-Wan put his hand on Cody’s cheek and smiled, “I know.”

They walked out of the medbay together then separated in the hall. Obi-Wan watched Cody’s back as he slowly walked away, hoping that he would still be Cody when he saw him again.

----

Cross patched up Obi-Wan the best he could then ordered him to go rest, too. And while he was deeply exhausted, and knew he could benefit from sleeping, he was unsure how he could knowing there were four clones on the ship who could snap at any time and try to kill him again. So instead, he stood at the viewport on the bridge looking out on the familiar rushing vortex of blue. They were approximately four days from Coruscant.

It seemed as if everything they had been told by the Kaminoans about the inhibitor chips was a lie. He no longer felt sure he knew anything about the chips or what had been done to the millions of clones during the cloning process. There was obviously a trigger, but he didn't know what it was. And could they be re-triggered? How did they malfunction in Cody, Boil, Cross, and Longshot? How would they locate them in their heads? Was there anything in Arc Trooper Fives' old file? If so, he hoped Cross was looking and would find it.

He tried to focus on the chip issue, but the reminder that they were heading back home only made his thoughts turn back to his people, to the temple and the younglings there, as well as his friends and family scattered throughout the galaxy. He searched his bond once again for Anakin but it was still silent. He worried, too, about Ahsoka, Rex, and the troopers they took to Mandalore. Did they capture Maul? But was she attacked by her men, too?

He had to refocus his mind or lose himself to his grief completely. He sat down in one of the command center chairs and attempted to meditate. However, he found quickly that the Force was empty and in mourning. The amount of grief he felt, in addition to the darkness, was suddenly overwhelming.

His eyes flew open and he was panting and gasping for air. He looked around the empty command center expecting to see at least one trooper or officer. He realized, too, that the emptiness he was feeling was not only the rift in the Force, but in the Vigilance itself. It was always bustling with life - he was used to feeling the bright Force signatures of every single one of his men. Now that was also gone. Even Cody, Longshot, Boil, and Cross felt dim and far away. It took every ounce of strength he had to not collapse on his knees.

“General,” a voice suddenly rang behind him. Obi-Wan whipped around quickly, pulling his lightsaber off his belt and igniting it.

Cross' hands flew up in defense, “Whoa! It’s just me...Cross!”

Obi-Wan turned off the blade once more and willed himself to calm his breathing. “I’m so sorry, Cross. I can’t...I’m…”

“General, I thought I told you to rest,” Cross said, walking closer, slowly dropping his hands. “I am wide awake and dedicated to this research, please go try to sleep. Doctor’s orders.” He smiled.

Obi-Wan’s shoulders sagged and nodded his assent. “I guess there’s no point in arguing with you, is there?”

Cross chuckled, “No, sir. I know what you just went through for the four of us, and honestly, it’s a bit astounding that you’re still upright after what you went through on Utapau.”

“I...know you’re right,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Because I am having problems meditating right now. Are you sure you’re okay here on your own?”

“Of course, sir,” Cross nodded. “I will wake you all should the need arise.”

Obi-Wan walked closer and put his hand on Cross' shoulder. “Obi-Wan...please. You’re a good man, Cross. Thank you.”

“Then, Obi-Wan...after what you did for us? It’s truly the least I could do.”

Obi-Wan nodded and headed out of the command center.

----

Once in the common fresher, he stripped off his sweat and water-logged tunics and pants, and took a long shower. The warm water was soothing on his aching muscles. He finished and wrapped a towel around his waist to head back towards his quarters. It was a small comfort to finally feel clean. He wasn't worried that anyone would see him dressed so inappropriately - or not dressed, rather - there was no one else on board.

As he rounded the corner, he noticed the door to his quarters was cracked and there was a light coming from inside. He didn’t remember turning one on, but perhaps he had and forgotten. Or else Cody had done it for him anticipating his returning and needing it.

He stood at the door and opened it the rest of the way. The sight was not at all what he expected. Cody was tucked under the blankets, sprawled on his stomach and snoring lightly. The small breathing noises brought a warmth to Obi-Wan’s chest - Cody needed the sleep and Obi-Wan was grateful he was able to.

Obi-Wan needed to get dressed but he hesitated, wondering what he should do beyond that. The thought of crawling into bed next to Cody was incredibly inviting. And on some level, Cody must have expected Obi-Wan to do this otherwise he wouldn’t have fallen asleep in his bed.

Or maybe Cody expected Obi-Wan to stay awake and took his bed knowing he wouldn’t be using it. In which case, maybe he should leave him alone.

Or maybe--

“I can hear you thinking,” a voice rough with sleep suddenly said. Obi-Wan hadn't even noticed the snoring had ceased. “Come to bed.” Cody rolled over to face Obi-Wan. "Oh."

Obi-Wan didn't miss the way Cody's eyes quickly raked over his body. He loved Cody the most when he looked like this - eyelids heavy with sleep and hair slightly mussed. And now there was a warm, almost seductive smile on his face. Yet he still hesitated, and that wasn’t lost on Cody.

“Unless you don’t trust me?” He furrowed his brow and propped himself up on his elbow to get a better look at his general.

Obi-Wan dried off and slipped on a pair of comfortable sleep pants. Cody had seen Obi-Wan like this many times. He appreciated Obi-Wan’s lithe form, toned by years of training and discipline. But he also knew all of his scars and old wounds and appreciated those, too. They spoke of someone unafraid. A general he himself was not afraid to follow because he knew he put his life on the line for his men, his Jedi family, and the Republic time and time again.

Obi-Wan walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. A gentle hand rubbed his bare back. The touch pulled Obi-Wan out of his own reverie and he melted under Cody's hand. He finally looked over his shoulder, “I do trust you. I’m just...you can’t blame me for being slightly hesitant.” Cody looked down. “That hurts more than I can say.”

“I understand,” Cody sat up and made to get out of the bed, but a hand pushed against his shoulder.

“You don’t have to leave...unless you just want to.”

“I don’t.”

“Then, stay.” Obi-Wan twisted slightly to watch Cody's face.

Cody laid back down and lifted up the corner of the blanket for Obi-Wan to crawl in beside him, which he did. Cody was just as warm as Obi-Wan thought he’d be, and the skin-to-skin contact sent a pulse of electricity through his entire body. The familiar comfort was as overwhelming as the earlier grief.

Obi-Wan tucked his head under Cody’s chin as two strong arms wrapped around his torso. Cody sighed. “This feels normal and right.”

Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to the hollow of Cody’s throat. “How are you always so warm?” Cody chuckled and Obi-Wan felt the low rumble in his chest.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan shifted and reached out towards the light to turn it off. Cody laughed again. “Don’t say it,” Obi-Wan warned with a smile.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Mhmm, sure,” Obi-Wan retorted.

“Okay, lights are out, it’s time to sleep,” Cody said, sounding like he was halfway to drifting off already. Obi-Wan nodded against his chest. They laid there basking in each other’s comfort, both thinking about what they had been through only hours before but trying to avoid the conversation. Cody ran a hand up and down Obi-Wan’s back.

“What happens when we get to Coruscant?” He finally asked. Obi-Wan was silent so long, Cody thought he had already drifted to sleep. In truth, Obi-Wan was silent because he had no idea. This situation was unprecedented. “I don’t...I wouldn't blame you for turning us all over to the Coruscant Guard as soon as we land."

"That's never happening. Don't be ridiculous,” he murmured against his chest.

Cody pushed him away to look at him. In the cabin's dim light he could just barely make out Obi-Wan's face. It was set and determined.

"But, sir, we attacked you. I attacked you. I tried to kill you."

"First of all, please do not call me sir while we're in bed." Cody huffed fondly. "And secondly, you were not yourselves. I cannot pretend to fully understand this situation and the destructive power in your head, but it wasn't you."

Cody pulled him close again, squeezing harder, wanting to never let go. "I'm so…sorry." The sob he had been desperately trying to hold in finally escaped.

Obi-Wan reached up and ran a soothing hand over Cody’s face and shoulders. "Shhh, dear one. No apologies."

Obi-Wan could feel Cody shaking silently. Seeing the man cry twice in one day was breaking Obi-Wan’s heart. He shifted upwards and tucked Cody under his chin, wrapping his arms around him instead. This wasn't something either of them were going to come back from easily, but they would do it together.

[reynesofcastamere]

Splintered Perspective [β]

(A/N: For reference, any fics I write that aren’t related to my main series will be marked with [ β ] in the title. I may just have to make a masterpost to organize these at some point. Anyway,the prompt for this was: ‘How Rex or some other person from Ahsoka’s past would react to her being enemies with benefits or in a relationship with Maul.’ I decided to go with multiple POVs for the fun of it. And so I didn’t break myself with The Sad. Poor Rex T_T. Perspectives are not in chronological order. Mentions of past Ahsoka/Barriss. Warnings for dehumanization, mentions of torture, death, violence, some ableism and possible misogyny.(Maybe? Your mileage may vary.) Unbeta’d.  ) Being one with the Force is...not exactly what she had been taught to expect. Barriss Offee is part of everything, all at once. Those in the Light, living and dead, she is all of them, and yet still herself, in a manner of speaking . Time is no longer such a rigid concept, nor is there any particular sense of urgency. What has happened was meant to be, and the future...Is forever shifting, ripples overlapping in a still pool. Which is why it comes as such a surprise when she can feel Master Plo’s disapproval like a storm on the edge of breaking. At first, she cannot determine what has woken his ire, but slowly the images come into focus. Ahsoka.

Barriss no longer possesses a heart, and yet she cannot deny the lance of bittersweet pain through her chest. There is relief that her friend is still alive, but also regret and something bordering on envy. A feeling that only sharpens when she notices the tattooed Zabrak that Ahsoka currently has pinned down. Wait. She knows him. Not personally, but...He is a Sith, a murderer, a monster. Why is Ahsoka-brash, kind, clever person that she is- smiling at him?  It is possible that she is misinterpreting this. Both of them appear rather bruised and a touch bloody, and the lack of lightsabres doesn’t mean-She misses the words exchanged between the pair of them, but...The kiss is unmistakeably passionate, bordering on obscene as the Force crackles around them. Somehow, this is not the worst of it. When they part for air, there is a...look, shared between their eyes, and Barriss experiences true dread. Long ago, she and Ahsoka had-been close. Intimately so. As much as anyone could be, following the Order’s mandate that attachment was forbidden. She’d harboured dreams then, of maybe and one day...But no. Too much had happened, and her rosy illusions had been cruelly shattered. Somehow, watching this unfold hurts worse. Because there is something genuine beneath the crude physical attraction on display. Master Plo does not say a word, but his righteous indignation is so strong that it is a miracle he does not physically manifest in front of them.

Her dearest companion does not belong in the Dark, with this...creature trapping her in his coils, dripping venom into her thoughts. Barriss can only hope Ahsoka will extricate herself before it is too late.

=====

The failed apprentice. A wretched vermin who simply refuses to die. Not for much longer. Darth Vader’s gaze narrows as he reviews the incident reports. A decade of nothing but the occasional annoyance and whispers from the dregs of the galaxy, and only now does Maul scurry out from beneath whatever rock he has been sheltering under. Why? There is no grand plan, no great advantage in breaking into an Imperial prison. Especially one that contains such...unimportant occupants. Then again...The swathe of carnage and destruction left behind had been almost a direct path between the Dathomirian’s entry point and the interrogation chambers. Not a calculated assault, but an act of rage and desperation. Vader had felt it at the time, how the Dark Side had howled and torn at itself like a half-crazed beast. And then there was the fate of the interrogator: Hands cut off, abdominal perforation, shattered jaw,and eyes torn from their sockets. He had suffered a great deal, however briefly. As for the prisoner with him- Records list a female Togruta, mid-to-late twenties, with blue eyes and orange skin. Possibly Force sensitive, but difficult to determine due to her physical state upon capture. The prisoner hadn’t been in possession of anything resembling lightsabres, but had been carrying a wealth of assorted small armaments. It couldn’t be. She died back when...We found her sabres among the graves. Anakin Skywalker is long dead, but sometimes his ghost is loud enough to be heard over the multitudes that inhabit Vader’s hulking, monstrous shell.

Graves required someone to dig them first. Which meant that either some unknown individuals had come along and taken pity on a multitude of strangers...Or that the survivours had done the work themselves. Yet, if Ahsoka Tano lives, and was temporarily imprisoned, it still does not explain the identity or methods of her unlikely rescuer. She was sent to capture him on Mandalore, why would Snips-? Why did she leave us? We needed her when Padme- The room around him warps and buckles in a single, furious moment of clarity. She chose that...animal. That thing, Oh, but she’d been richly rewarded, hadn’t she? One only had to look at the risks her...protector had taken just to secure her freedom. Approval and utter disgust war within him as he rises. So be it. Sentiment has already destroyed them, and it will be his pleasure to finish a task that should have been resolved long ago. Traitors to the Empire must all be purged.

===== Rex should probably be angry. Ahsoka is certainly looking at him like a shiny expecting a stern lecture for breaking regs. Instead he just feels...tired. He can’t be mad at her, not really. Maybe if he’d stuck around longer or managed to make contact more often, this wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe it would have. Maker knows his trio of Jedi could never stay out of trouble for long, and that war makes for strange alliances and even stranger...pairings.  Still, he has to ask, because he knows her, knows the depths of love and compassion that make her who she is, beneath the layers of soldier and spy.

“Is it serious?” Ahsoka fidgets with her lekku a bit. “I don’t know.” A long pause as she inhales. “It keeps happening, and...I want to murder him half the time, Rex. The problem is that he likes it.” The expression on her face perfectly sums up her opinion on that little tidbit of info. He might have laughed, under different circumstances. Instead, he takes her hands in his. “We’ve known each other for a long time. I might not understand why you’re doing this, or how it works-” He absolutely does not need to know the mechanics, as there are not enough drugs or alcohol in the galaxy to purge the associated mental images. “-but I trust your judgement. And your ability to slice his horns off and hang him from his ears over a pit of rathtars if he pushes you too far.” Rex grins, silently offering to be her backup should that ever happen. Kind of a surprise it hasn’t already, since Maul never karking shuts up and Ahsoka’s patience has a set limit for windbags. Her eyes are wet when she hugs him tightly. “You’ll be the first person I call, Captain. And I’m sorry.” He knows she’s not just apologizing for this, not with their history. “I’m sorry too, Commander.” Rex murmurs, hugging her back. They can stay like this for a while longer. Her superiors are just going to have to wait. He might not be such a ‘good’ soldier anymore, but he knows damned well how to be a good friend. And that’s what they both need, more than anything. People that will survive the disaster long enough to see it end, and come out smiling.

=====

“When I warned that you might be tempted by the Dark Side, I did not expect it to be quite so literal.”

“Master.” “Then again, I suppose there is a certain appeal. Ventress was certainly a...passionate opponent. Lovely sense of humour, too. I suppose you don’t get much of that with your-No, I suppose you are the better half in this equation.” “Master Kenobi.” “Come now, we haven’t spoken in ages, surely you can indulge your grand-master’s curiousity.” “You did not break comm silence after years of letting everyone think you were dead just to call me about my sex life.” “Well, no, but it is an unexpected bonus. How does that work, exactly?” “It sounds like you’re angling for a demonstration.” “Oh Maker, no. I’m not that eager to find out.” “Good, because I don’t particularly feel like dealing with him if he decides to drop everything just to hunt you down.” “Ah. He’s...still upset about that, is he?” “You have no idea.” “Well then. To business. And Ahsoka?” “Yes, Master?” “It is good to hear your voice again. Do take care of yourselves.” “You too, Master Kenobi. And don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“One last question: When should I expect great-grand-padawans?”

“OBI-WAN!!!!” (A/N: Yes, I had to end with levity. Especially considering the characters involved. To clarify, Anakin isn’t upset because he has any sort of romantic inclination towards Ahsoka. It’s general Darksider possessiveness/jealousy mixed in with a lot of anger and some guilt. Looking after Ahsoka’s wellbeing was ‘his’ job, so far as he’s concerned. And now it’s apparently been usurped by That One Asshole. Also, if anyone’s going to recognize that level of...obsessive regard, it’s gonna be the OG Skywalker Drama King. Many thanks to the anonymous person who requested this, both for the prompt and your compliments. Cheers!) 

[galaxysedginess]

Conversations in a Quiet Room- Chapter 2

In a universe where everything is the same except Satine survives the Clone Wars and bears witness to the fall of the Republic.

Characters: Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bo-Katan Kryze, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala

Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Bo-Katan Kryze & Satine Kryze

Tags: Satine Kryze Lives, Post-Order 66, Reunions, Return to Mandalore, Fall of the Republic, Heart-to-Heart, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, The Twins Are Safe

Rating: G

Read on AO3:

Chapter 2: Saying the Word

20 years too late, Satine finally breaks the stalemate.

That night, much like all the others, was impossible to sleep through.

On top of there being far too much to do to prepare for the plan she and Bo-Katan had ultimately decided was most effective, her head was swimming with agonizing bouts of anger- no, sadness- or was it fear? She hadn't even realized how lost she was to the throws of despair until droplets began to stain the parchment she'd been using to keep record of her plans. And for what? Sitting at her desk and crying about it certainly wasn't going to save her people or bring friends back from the dead or pry the fate of the galaxy from a dictator's hands.

She ran a hand through the blonde ringlets that were unceremoniously hanging just above her shoulders. No headdress or hairpins or clips to dress it up in any fashion. The moment didn't call for any glamor for there was nothing glamorous about anxiety.

No, she had to believe that Mandalore would prevail. It managed to thrive in spite of its planets being 'unlivable' on some standards. It banded together as a collective in times of strife for thousands of years and continuously adapted. It picked itself up after a horrific civil war and dragged itself into a new age under the tutelage of an inexperienced leader with little more than hopes and dreams at her arsenal. And it would survive this.

She pushed her chair away from her desk, determined to use this spark of faith to warm her through the night. She gazed out her window reverently and took a moment to appreciate the Sundari skyline. She wondered what the Empire would change- who would they exploit. Invasion rarely came without the prospect of exploitation, particularly since they recently showed her they were fond of genocide. One of the Republic's last acts was to technically invade Mandalore- though that was at the deliberate demand of Bo-Katan, who knew it was the only way to drive Maul off planet.

It was one of the moments that defined Satine's choice to pass the mantle over to Bo. She made a call that Satine might have never made and it saved countless lives. Tomorrow morning, she would be the new Duchess of Mandalore and the Empire would have her to deal with. It was poetic justice in a sense, because Satine reasoned that they were getting the scrappier of the Kryze sisters. They just didn't know it yet. She would play her part and build Mandalore up in the shadows- a place her people had been for far too long. They would think Bo stole it all and that Satine was weak, but anything to elevate them to the best possible outcome.

A strange ship entered the biosphere and Satine felt something within her seize up.

Had they come?

"Don't be ridiculous, they wouldn't just send one ship." She thought. "And certainly not of Alderaanian make."

She did her best to quell any nerves that crept up on her. The ship had landed on one of the royal landing pads.

They'd announced Obi-Wan's death on the holonet earlier that afternoon. It happened on Utapau weeks prior, just a mere minute after the cursed order had been given. He was shot from behind by Commander Cody, who Satine remembered. She met this man. She shook his hand after being introduced by Obi-Wan. They seemed to be friends on and off the battlefield.

And he shot him in the back. Obi-Wan fell into the water below and never resurfaced.

How had they phrased it? Oh, he was apparently "fleeing arrest", which couldn't have possibly sounded less like Obi-Wan.

Anakin's death was announced shortly after, evidently a casualty of the initial burning of the Jedi temple. Ahsoka's lightsabers had been recovered, but no trace of her. She was no longer a part of the order, so Satine absently wondered if they'd look for her with less scrutiny.

She was only a child.

Satine was convinced that none of this information fully resonated with her just yet. She was in a meeting when it had blasted across the screens without warning. Before she could even have the opportunity to turn it off, there was Obi-Wan's handsome face staring back at her with the confirmation that he'd been accounted for. The room was silent after the message ended and her entire round table looked to her, waiting, gaging, trying to see what she required of them. Because what does one say when the murder of a close friend was announced in the middle of a budget meeting?

Satine went with, "And as for the transportation tax..."

Business, as usual.

She would deal with it. She'd have to. It seemed after this transition of power settled in, she would have bounties of time to come to terms with the loss of her... Obi-Wan. His place in her world was never clear, but his place in her heart was extensive and for that, she would have no choice but to mourn him and the piece of herself that laid dormant for too long... Reignited only by his tendency to boomerang back to her whether by his own volition or not. She'd taken care to never pine for him in the years they'd been apart, because Satine Kryze does not pine and certainly not for someone that was always just out of her reach. She'd even had the occasional suitor here or there, but she'd be a liar to say anyone truly inspired her the way he had.

Thinking of him in past tense cracked something hollow within her, especially when he felt so present.

The doors behind her swished open swiftly and she had half a mind to snap at one of her attendants for their lack of courtesy. How dare they interrupt her pity party! She thought better of it, of course, and waited for whatever news they had for her.

"Hello, there."

She whipped around to prove that no, her ears were not deceiving her, because leaning against her doorframe like he'd always belonged there was one disheveled and battle-worn Obi-Wan Kenobi. For a woman that rarely had the breath stolen from her, she gasped. A swell of emotions overtook her- the first of which was notably relief, followed by confusion and anger, of course there was anger. She could not decide whether she wanted to run into his arms or smack that ridiculous beard off of his cocksure face.

That anger seemed to boil to the top of her priority list, forming from an intense manifestation of the fear and anxiety that had riddled her for the past few weeks- all coming to fruition towards him whether it was fair or not. She'd thought he was dead! He let her believe he was dead for nearly a month! And the best he can do is appear without warning in her room, with a stupid smirk on his face?

Oh, she had words. Words were her fire and now that she had the affirmation that he was somehow alive, she was going to use them, dammit. She stormed towards him, a finger outstretched and ready to point at him for emphasis.

"Why, you-" They died on her tongue the second she got a better view of him and could see how ragged he truly looked. He looked like he hadn't slept in ages with dark circles under his eyes, a definitive slouch in his stance which offset his usual air of perpetual confidence, and an overall weary look in his eyes. His tunic appeared to be singed and marred with ash. That very same ash speckled across his beard and on his boots. On top of that, he seemed to have a slight limp as he was clearly favoring one leg over the other.

Overall, he looked like a broken man. And for as stressful as these past few weeks had been for her, her chest felt like it could concave at the thought of what he'd been through; what he'd lost.

Still, the only thing Satine could seem to say was, "You look dreadful!"

"And you as lovely as ever." Such sentiments used to make her blush across the campfire what felt like ages ago, but not now. "I do apologize for any worry I might have caused you. I was slightly tied up."

His casual quip did not frustrate her this time for it was obvious he was deflecting. Instead, she approached him and took his face in her hands, running her thumbs across sharp cheekbones and down his bearded face to hold his chin. He somehow looked even more exhausted up close and there was a carefully crafted coyness in his eyes that was thinly shielding a heavy weight. Someone who knew him less might fall for the levity he attempted, but she was not so easily fooled and knew more layers of him than he'd probably care to admit.

When she determined that he was physically functioning, she met his eyes again and felt her heart break all over again as he shifted in his stance. "Satine..."

He did not stare at her with the caution of someone flying too close to the sun as he seemed to lately. He looked at her with his heart as near to his sleeve as a man like Obi-Wan could allow. She sought that as her opportunity. As much as drinking in his being alive was soothing to the fire of unrest that raged within her, it was not enough to extinguish it altogether.

"The holonets say you're dead."

"I've never been very good at dying." He laughed weakly.

"Yet you always seem to be trying." She said softly.

"For as horrible as I seem to be at dying, near-death experiences happen to be a primary skillset of mine."

"I do remember that about you."

"Those weren't all because of me." He emphasized.

"And what about Anakin and the others? Do they..." She held in a shaky breath. "Do they share your predilection for close calls?"

He reached up and held her hands in place over his face, running a thumb along her wrist. They'd not been this affectionate since their year on the run all those years ago during the Mandalorian Civil War, but simply having the knowledge that he was still a tangible and living presence was just not enough at the moment. She needed the absolute physical proof that he was here and not about to evaporate into existence or into the Empire's evil clutches. As for him, he looked like he hadn't interacted with someone that wasn't pointing a blaster at him for quite some time.

"They did." And it was the ever purposeful utilization of past-tense along with the defeat in his tone that made it all too real. It was one thing to hear it on the news or to spread it from word of mouth, but to be standing in front of a man that was already becoming a relic of a different time... Was a different experience altogether. The knowledge of the Jedi's increasing obsoletion certainly made her all the more grateful that this relic was in front of her at all.

She dropped her hands, which suddenly felt too heavy to keep held in one place. They didn't go far, settling instead on his chest over the scorched lapels of his tunic. He wobbled forward a little too much and it became obvious that he was unable to stand and continue this conversation. She reached down and guided him to the edge of her bed so he could sit. Had he been in better spirits, he would have made some smart comment about her wasting no time in getting him to bed while she would have returned with some well-articulated slight suggesting performance issues.

Instead they sat with knees touching, feeling grounded for the first time since the galaxy decided to open up beneath them.

"Anakin's dead, Satine." Was what he went with, which she knew was the crux at what really ached him. She was not force-sensitive in the slightest, but could feel that specific pain emanating off of him. The love Obi-Wan had for his former padawan was evident. The Jedi were never allowed attachment, but were given children to care for and practically parent. No, it did not make sense, but she never voiced this contradiction. She questioned a lot about the Jedi Order in her time spent with Obi-Wan, but never in the love or camaraderie they felt for each other.

Forgoing her initial desire for answers, she reached a hand up and dusted some of the ash from his auburn hair. "I'm so sorry, Obi."

"And it's my fault." He said.

Always the guilt-martyr. "That's not-"

"-I sliced off his limbs and left him to burn." He choked out and turned to her, all pretenses shattered from behind his dark blue eyes. "I killed him."

She pulled back, but only slightly, eyes wide and posture frozen. At this point, she felt like she'd heard everything in her life. "Explain?"

He sighed and leaned forward, pinching his brow between his fingers. "Mace Windu did try to kill Palpatine."

"Okay?" Satine could see that Obi-Wan was definitely not in the spirit to have the life shaken out of him, but her resolve on the matter was growing thinner and thinner as he continued to drop short and curt details that made absolutely no sense in the present universe that she lived in. It did not help that he did so with an expectation that she understood.

"But..." He shook his head. "Not because there was a Jedi Uprising."

"I know that." She said indignantly.

He lifted his head with great effort to meet her gaze. "Palpatine is a Sith Lord."

She did not know that.

Satine's jaw set. She did not know nearly as much about Jedi history or lore as she did Mandalorian history, but she did know enough to know that Sith typically traveled in pairs. This entire Clone Wars, the Republic was on the hunt for this other Sith Lord after first encountering the evil Darth Maul and finding him to be the apprentice. Then, there was Count Dooku, who was yet another apprentice. That horrid Ventress somehow did not count. And the war ended without any mention of another Sith.

Which she felt horribly stupid for not coming to such a conclusion on her own. Of course the present leader of the galaxy was a Sith Lord.

"That's why the Jedi confronted him then." She said and at Obi-Wan's nod, she grimaced. "And I'm guessing he meets his end after the video cuts off."

"Curious how they managed that, huh?" He sighed, "In doing so, they also cut out the part where Anakin falls."

"Falls?" She wrinkles her brow. "From where?"

"No... He..." And it looked like Obi-Wan would rather vomit than speak his piece. "He fell to the dark side of the force."

She gasped. No, that couldn't be right. Not Anakin. She remembered him clear as day at their doorstep a mere few months ago. He was impetuous and rebellious- definitely not one to color within the lines- but radiated goodness all the same. He cared for his soldiers and respected his elders. He cared so greatly for Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, if not always in line with the rest of the Jedi. This was beyond clearer than anything else.

But Obi-Wan would not be slumped over beside her if this was not true. His elbows rested on his knees as he rubbed his face. "He was the one who gutted the temple."

"How..." Her voice was small and so unlike the regal or firm tones she typically used. "How could he do that to his friends? His mentors?"

"They were not his friends and mentors." He shivered. "They were predominantly padawans and..."

"Younglings?" She asked, but it sounded like a desperate plea.

The silence was damning enough.

She choked down a sob of her own, but had little to say in response to that. Even for someone as eloquent with words as Satine, there wasn't anything you could say to appropriately respond to the news that someone near and dear not only crossed the line of evil, but went so far as to take the lives of the most innocent.

"And I still couldn't follow through. Even after knowing that." He shuttered. "I failed. I- I failed him."

She slid off the edge of the bed and into a kneeling position on the floor in front of him, imploring him to look at her. "No, you did not. If anything, he failed you."

He did not reply to that just as she knew he would not. She'd been right before at assuming he was accepting responsibility at its entirety for this whole mess. She just did not know the angle of it. In a sense, she could not blame how he came to that conclusion. She'd witnessed firsthand the bond between a Master and an Apprentice up close. It went beyond a simple mentor/mentee process, but had familial and friendship layers to it. It was a lonely galaxy for a Jedi and oftentimes the family found within that order was their reprieve. Now, all of that was torn to shreds and the very same way Satine blamed herself for the path Bo-Katan chose, Obi-Wan blamed himself for Anakin's fall.

"He failed you, Ben." She repeated and used the name she'd coined for him when they were undercover on the run. It became something of a fond pleasantry only reserved for serious moments. She'd never lived a moment more serious in her life and she'd been close to meeting her end at the hands of a former Sith.

He looked up to meet her gaze with glassy eyes. He looked so unlike his normal self- so the very opposite of a Jedi, and maybe he could sense that she noticed this, because he reached out and took her hands in his, like he needed to explain to her that everything horrible in the galaxy was, in fact, his fault.

"I raised him."

"Would you sooner blame me for Bo-Katan's indiscretions with Death Watch?"

"That's different."

Considering Bo-Katan never touched a single hair on a child's head, yes, it was miles different, but the principal at the core still remained. Satine was a master negotiator and could triumph Kenobi yet.

"You are certainly not perfect," She squeezed his hands and he snorted, "But you were a good Master and you did what you could. Anakin was free to make his own choices and failures. I know you will not allow me to absolve you of entire guilt nor will you ever hate him, but I encourage you to think back to what your Jedi Master would say."

"Qui-Gon would say it was the will of the force." He sighed, "Said that about everything, didn't he?"

She smiled softly. "He certainly had a way about him."

"I miss him." Obi-Wan admitted, which under any other circumstance he would not voice, even if he felt it. "I am glad, in a way, that he did not live to see this."

At some point during their maudlin conversation, it had begun to rain outside, which while the rain on Mandalore was scheduled, it always seemed to catch her off guard. Even more shocking, Satine hadn't noticed it until an artificial crack of lightning broke across the sky. The flash reflected off of Obi-Wan's face and for a moment she could see the young padawan that came to her aid so long ago, who absconded her heart during stolen glances across a makeshift campfire and proceeded to break it when he left. After all this chaos, there was still hope in the man's eyes.

"There's more." She prodded.

He quirked a brow. "You've always been nosey."

She scoffed, "Well if you don't want to tell me-"

For a second, his hardened features softened and it was clear he was giving in. "Padmé's children survived the birth and I must ensure their safety."

She let that factoid linger in the air for a moment before adding to it the detail that Obi-Wan would not, for reasons that he was likely coming to terms with, because if Satine could really take a wild gander, had been the source of all of this. "They're Anakin's aren't they?"

For a second, Obi-Wan snapped out of his sorrow and look at her in an almost comical surprise. "You knew?"

"Was it not common knowledge that they were together?"

He stuttered. "No! I was not- I mean I had my assumptions that he- No! We're Jedi- We..."

"Hush now, Obi." She sighed, "Do you really think you are the first and only Jedi to play with fire?"

Her gaze was knowing and he returned it in kind and for a moment, she was transported to memories that seemed a millennia away- one where they were treading from planet to planet, through all terrain, not quite sure what the next day would bring. It was easy to grow close with someone after being forced together by the elements. It was all the easier when that someone was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Of course, nothing could ever be easy between the two of them. A figurative mountain of obligation stood between them. Still, they'd managed to poke cracks through the surface and allow some light to peak through, whether allowed or not.

But Obi-Wan walked away that day in a way that Anakin could not. For Obi-Wan, it had always been one or the other- never both, and Satine could never bring himself to make him choose. It would have made her too guilty... To take him away from his lifestyle. She certainly would have grown to resent him had he made her choose between him and Mandalore. She could not do that to him and she could not do that to herself. Instead, they stood with the sun casting shadows on their faces on that last day, staring at one another and waiting for something until the thing they waited for could never come and before they knew it, they were parting ways.

He was so very much the strong and faithful Jedi back then and his future was so very bright. She had a community to turn into a city all by herself, but believed her future could also be bright.

No such promises existed now.

And with that, along with how terribly it hurt to look at him like this- to see how the force managed to chew him up and spit him out and still have the audacity to request more of him, she realized that she'd take the burden of his possible resentment if it meant their lives would be better than what they had now. The tiny voice inside her head told her that Obi-Wan could never resent her and she still hoped that rang true.

"I'm calling it." She said abruptly as though she was adjourning a business meeting.

He furrowed his brow at her in a way that let her know it was her turn to elaborate.

So, she gathered all the courage she could muster and went on with a conversation that likely should have occurred much sooner. "Forgive me if this is 20 years too late, but I have to ask. I cannot bear to see you continue on like this and frankly, I'm not sure if I can either. Stay with me... Please?"

For a moment, it was just them in the entire galaxy. There was no genocide or newfound tyranny or impending invasion. Just them and Satine swore she could hear her own heart thrumming in her ears. She waited for this frustrating man in front of her to decline. How could he step away now when the galaxy needed him most? There were children involved, evidently. The leader was a Sith Lord! He was a wanted criminal. The list of why they should not seemed to grow longer by the second, but she banished all of those thoughts, because all she wanted right now was for his safety.

"You're saying the word." He said incredulously.

"I am." She never broke his stare.

He choked out what she could not tell to be a laugh or half a sob of relief, but he lifted her hands and kissed them both. "Shouldn't I be the one on bended knee?"

Shock permeated across her chest for a moment, before stubbornness settled in. She patted his knee gently, to which he winced; making the silent point that he was in no shape to make such a gesture. "I asked you first."

There was a softness in his features that she always adored and this moment, despite his being through hell and back, did not change the way he looked at her. He reached out and framed her face with his hands. She took comfort in the familiarity of the callouses that brushed along her cheekbones and leaned into his touch.

"I accept."

Her heart was still filled with a world of hurt, but she pushed all that away in favor of a true and genuine smile to break through the sorrow. She was delighted to see that through glassy eyes and frown lines, he mirrored her expression. A glimmer of light in a dark space. Love would not cure all of their problems or heal them whole, but it would help. They'd spent too many years rejecting it and they still ended up where they sat, so maybe, a different tactic would be useful to them.

It was small, but it was enough for right now.

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." He joked and smirked when she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shut-up." And she closed the unbearable distance and kissed him soundly.

After a gratuitous amount of that, she made a curious sound in the back of her throat and he pulled away instantly with a vulnerability she was not entirely used to (but certainly fond of). "What?"

She shrugged and ran a hand along her own face. "I'll have to get used to the beard."

He scoffed, "It can never be easy with you, can it?"

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." She mimicked with his drawl and all.

"I do love you anyway." He sighed and perhaps the confession shouldn't have startled her the way it did.

That being said, she would not resist the urge to return the sentiment. "And I, you."

There was still a child to look after somewhere across the galaxy and a Mandalore to distantly keep tabs on. The Empire would call them back to oppose them and there was the fact that both of them were about to become wanted criminals. Their obligations still pulled them every which way, but Satine felt warmth flow through her bones with the knowledge that she was finally allowed to be attached. She'd never known herself for being capable of crying and laughing at the same time, but it worked all the same.

[stonefreeak]

would you write something in the chancellor obi-wan verse that brings up obi-wan's relationship with ahsoka? or just lineage feels in general, really, but especially ahsoka. thank you so much!

Finally, we have Ahsoka’s POV! I have a few other asks about how she reacts to Chancellor Kenobi, but this isn’t quite that (too late in the timeline).

Ahsoka takes a small break from her battle against a training droid just as the doors to the training salles open.

“Master Obi-Wan!” she says, extinguishing her lightsabers and heading over to him.

“Ah, Ahsoka. Doing a bit of saber practice before shipping out?” Master Obi-Wan strokes his beard and smiles at her.

“Yes, Master. I wanted to practice my Jar’kai with the training droids before I’m back in the field again.” Ahsoka finds herself returning the smile. It’s weird seeing him out of the pieces of armour he used to wear in the field, but it’s good to see him at all. He’s been so busy that the last time she saw him in person he was in a bed in the Halls of Healing recuperating from being poisoned—pale and tired.

“How is your Jar’kai coming along?” He eyes the two lightsabers she’s still holding.

“I’m improving! Unfortunately, I can’t get as much battle practice down when I’m in the field as I’d like…” she trails off and looks away. “I don’t feel quite ready to start using it in real battle yet.”

Master Obi-Wan hums in acknowledgement and nods slightly, arms crossed against his chest. He looks at her steadily, and she can only wonder what he’s thinking.

“Yes, Anakin doesn’t favour Jar’Kai. As with most Jedi, he has enough training to utilise it, but he’s generally more confident with one blade than he is with two.”

She knows that. She doesn’t think there’s anyone in her age-group who hasn’t heard about how Anakin Skywalker lost his arm while utilising Jar’Kai against Count Dooku. It’s never been spoken about officially, of course, but everyone has heard the rumours.

“I know, Master. I was hoping maybe I could catch one of the saber instructors before we head out, but they seem to be busy with classes.” A training droid was better than nothing, even if Ahsoka had hoped for a bit of proper instruction.

“A wise goal. What a shame none of them were available to you today.” He strokes his beard again and he’s definitely contemplating something. She can tell.

“I might be flattering myself now, but I have been told I am a rather effective Jar’kai user. Perhaps I could give you some instruction?”

Hope and excitement flares in Ahsoka’s chest. “Yes!” she says, before she can stop herself. Who would turn down private teaching in saber forms from one of the most skilled swordsmen in the entire Order? No one, that’s who!

Master Kenobi coughs a laugh into his fist and she can see the upturn of his mouth.

That’s when her brain catches up with her and her excitement dies a quick death. Master Obi-Wan has been so busy lately, how can he possibly have time to teach her? She’s not his padawan or anything…

Deep breaths.

“Thank you very much for the offer, Master, but…” she trails off, slightly uncertain how to word it, before she decides to just press on, “but are you sure you have the time? Aren’t you very busy?”

He hasn’t been in the field, with her and Master Anakin or without them—in fact, as far as she knows he hasn’t left Coruscant at all since the Vote—because he’s been so busy with everything. Can he really take time to train someone who isn’t even his Padawan?

“Don’t worry about that, Ahsoka. In fact, today is the day of the week allotted to my post as Council member, which means I’m stationed in the Temple, rather than the Chancellor’s offices.”

O… kay? That didn’t really explain anything.

“But… Shouldn’t you be with the Council then?”

He smiles at her.

“When I joined the Council this morning for today’s session I was told that there is no session to be had and my only duty for the day is to relax. While they technically have no authority to order me to do so—it is a cruel twist of fate that I somehow outrank all of them now—the way Master Yoda waved his stick around promised lots of bruised shins in my future unless I actually took the day off.” He huffs out small laugh. “So here I am.” He waves a hand vaguely across the salles with a roll of his twinkling eyes.

Ahsoka tries to stop the grin and the giggle before they form, but she’s not quite fast enough. She can perfectly imagine just the waving motion Master Yoda must have done with his gimer stick.

“Well then, Master Kenobi, I would be honoured to have you teach me.”

~~~~

Ahsoka watches Master Obi-Wan work his way through warm-up katas; she doesn’t recognise them, because they’re clearly Jar’kai katas, but she studies them carefully and tries to commit as many of them to memory as possible.

He starts slowly but soon his movements pick up speed. Every single one is graceful and controlled—beautiful but deadly—and yet it looks so effortless. One day… one day Ahsoka wants to be able to move like that. One day she will move like that.

She moves occasionally in gentle stretches to keep her muscles warm and pliant. She has a feeling she’s going to need it.

Master Obi-Wan comes to a halt.

“Well then, Ahsoka, are you ready?”

“Yes!” Her eyes sharpen in determination and she enters a wide, half-crouched stance, one leg forward with most of her weight on her back leg. She raises her arms, one up across her chest and the other over her head, but she doesn’t turn on either lightsaber yet.

Master Kenobi surveys her form for a short moment before he hums to himself.

“I think you should begin with using the standard grip, rather than your customary reverse one,” he says as he takes up the the same opening stance, though not quite mirroring her.

“But I always use the reverse grip!” she says, pursing her lips and squinting her eyes in displeasure.

“Ah.” He looks at her, face placid. “Tell me, Ahsoka, how long have you been using a lightsaber?”

She blinks in and tilts her head to the side. Where did that question come from?

“Since I was five, like all Jedi… I mean, it was only practice sabers back then, but the principle is the same.”

“Mmmhmm,” he nods to himself. “And how long have you been using the reverse grip?”

She pauses.

“Oh.” She closes her eyes and sighs, letting her arms fall as she leaves the opening stance and instead relaxes. “So you’re saying… I should start with the standard, and when I have the basics down, switch to the reverse grip?”

“Exactly. You already had the basics for one saber combat when you started using the reverse grip. Give yourself the same time with dual sabers.” He smiles at her and she feels a small burst of pride and hope in her chest.

“Go too fast, and you’ll only suffer in the long run. Patience, young one.”

“Yes, Master.” Maybe… maybe she was struggling because she’s demanding too much of herself right now. She smiles back at him and slides back into the stance, this time with the regular grip on her lightsabers.

“Good,” Master Obi-Wan says with a nod, “now follow me and I’ll show you the first few forms you should know.”

He moves slowly, but fluidly, and she does her best to follow his movements.

~~~~

Her muscles are screaming and she’s sweating profusely as she moves to block a slash from Master Kenobi. They’ve been fighting for so long, how can his breathing still be so calm when she’s panting for breath?

That moment of distraction costs her, and she finds one of his blades at her throat.

Time freezes, neither move. Ahsoka’s chest heaves with pants and she swallows harshly.

“Solah,” she says in what is almost a whisper, and slowly lowers her sabers and deactivates them. Immediately Master Obi-Wan follows, clipping his own saber to his belt, holding the borrowed one loosely in his left hand.

“Well done, Ahsoka. Very well done indeed.”

Her heart thumps in her chest and a wide grin spreads on her face. She feels like she’s advanced so much in just a few hours with a teacher. Her muscles are aching and she’s exhausted but at the same time, she feels so alive.

“Come on, let’s go sit down and have a drink of water. You’ve certainly earned it,” Master Obi-Wan says and moves toward one of the benches. She follows him and just about collapses on the bench, still panting for breath. She takes the offered bottle of water and downs roughly half of it before she pours the rest on her face.

A chuckle makes her turn to look at Master Kenobi—who’s drinking from his own bottle with his typical refinery—and give him an arch look. He simply shakes his head at her and keeps drinking.

“How are you not tired, Master? I’m exhausted!” She’s not whining like a youngling, not at all, but she can’t help the small sting in her pride. She knows better, because he’s one of the best swordsmen in the Order, of course she isn’t going to be on his level, but the sting remains.

“You forget, young one, that I am a Master of Soresu, the form of defence and endurance.” His face is serene but there’s a glimmer in his eyes, she can tell. “One of the chief strategies of Soresu is to outlast your opponent; I would be a poor excuse of a master if I could not outlast a Padawan, even one as skilled as you.”

She fakes an annoyed huff, but takes it for the compliment she knows it is and he outright smiles at her again.

It’s weird, really, to think of him as her grandmaster. He doesn’t seem old enough for the title, even though she knows that he is from a lineage perspective. Then again, their lineage also technically has Dooku in it, so perhaps thinking about it too much is a bad idea.

Still…

“You’re reckless, little one. You never would have made it as Obi-Wan’s Padawan… but you might make it as mine.”

The words feel so long ago now, but they echo in her head nevertheless. Why is she even thinking about it? It’s not like she’d ever want to change masters even if she could!

There’s no point in asking… Then again… Better to know and be able to lay it to rest rather than keep wondering.

“Master Obi-Wan…” she trails off. Should she really do this? Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t. Ahsoka nearly sighs at her own indecision. Where’s her recklessness now?

“Hmm? What is it, Ahsoka?” He turns to her and rests his water bottle against his knee, face calm but attentive.

“… Master once said that I was too reckless to be able to make it as your Padawan… do you think so too?”

There’s a brief moments of silence, before Master Kenobi starts laughing. Ahsoka leans back and blinks in surprise, it might not be a full on belly-laugh or anything, but this might just be the first time she’s ever heard Master Obi-Wan laugh at all, not just a dry chuckle.

“Master?” Is the thought of her succeeding as his Padawan that preposterous?

“Oh, Anakin,” Master Obi-Wan says, to her surprise. He shakes his head. “I’m afraid your master must have forgotten most of his own time as a Padawan if he said that. After all, he made it as my Padawan, and you are no more reckless than he is.”

To hear those words is more relieving that she thought it would be. They’re such a relief, in fact, that she lets out a sounds that’s a horrible mix between a snort and a giggle, and quickly covers her mouth and nose with her hands, eyes wide in horror at the noise.

“I think you would have done just fine as my Padawan, Ahsoka.” He pauses then and gives her a small conspiratorial smile. “Though I don’t believe you would like to trade masters, would you?”

“Not on my life!” she laughs and lets her hands fall to her lap.

No, she wouldn’t change her Master for anything in the world. He might not teach her Jar’kai, but he’s the best master she could ask for anyway.

“One more thing, Ahsoka.”

She turns to him, surprised.

“Once you start using Jar’kai as your primary form, take care not to let your skills with a single saber degrade. One of the dangers of being a Jar’kai user is becoming too reliant on the second blade.” He looks serious, and she considers the thought. She had planned to go over to Jar’kai completely, but if Master Obi-Wan says she should keep her one-saber skills honed, then he’s likely right.

“I will. Thank you for the lesson, Master.” She bows her head to him. “I think it’s time for me to head to the freshers and then finish preparing. We ship out tomorrow, after all.” Ahsoka gets to her feet with a small grunt. She’s still slightly buzzing with adrenalin, but she knows it’ll go away soon. She’ll sleep well tonight, as she always does when she’s physically exhausted.

“Mmm, yes, sounds like a good idea. I should be heading off too, I believe,” he says as he hangs his borrowed saber on the wall among the other practice sabers, before he too gets off the bench.

They leave the salles together in a comfortable silence, but just outside the doors, Ahsoka stops.

“Master Obi-Wan…” she hesitates a brief moment, “maybe, when I return to Coruscant the next time, you could give me another lesson?” Maybe if she smiles hopefully enough, he’ll agree to it?

“I’d be delighted to, Ahsoka.” His warm hand closes over her shoulder and gives it a small squeeze, before he gives her a slight wave and a smile, striding swiftly but unhurried down the hall.

She looks after him for a few moments, unsure why the sight of his back walking farther and farther away seems to unsettle her.

It’s nothing, she thinks and shakes her head. With a determined nod she heads off to her and Master Anakin’s apartments to get clean.

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)