trialds - Tumblr blog

trialds · 4 years

Text

G L A S S ;

Info:

Obi-Wan x Sith!Reader.

Part 1 of 12.

2096 words.

Pre!TPM.

Currently SFW.

A/N: I haven’t written a fic since I was about 13. It may take a while for my writing to even begin to resemble something a human being would say lmao.

---

Safe to say, fighting for his life had not been on Obi-Wan’s itinerary when he woke up that morning.

It was meant to be a simple recon assignment for him and his Master, figuring out how and why the people of a small but powerful planet seemed to be gathering military resources at a speed unreasonable for peacetime. Important, yes, but easy enough - in, observe, a little bit of digging if needed, and back out by day’s end.

Instead, both him and Master Qui-Gon had sensed a dark presence on the planet upon landing. Whether this was just the natural existence of the Gardinoan population was arguable, as his own Master had remarked that he had not felt such unease from the Force in a long time, and that it was unlikely that the Council would have sent the pair of them alone to a planet with such a … festering darkness. In any case, they almost immediately found themselves at the wrong end of a blaster and being guided to a prison cell by three thinly necked and heavily armoured Gardinoans.

Hours had passed since that first aggression, with his Master being dragged off to be questioned somewhere else. Qui-Gon was determined, Obi-Wan knew, not to get out of the situation using the Force if it could be avoided; ‘cooperation is the key in situations like these’, he had told his imprisoned padawan before being moved, ‘and if we can convince them to work alongside us now, they’ll be much more favourable towards us in the future.’

If Obi-Wan was being quite frank with himself, he didn’t particularly care about the future. Stuck in a dingy and cold prison cell, he was more concerned with the present - especially as it involved what he was fairly sure was a Sith, strolling into the room containing his cell alongside his jailors. At a cursory glance, the figure did not scream Sith - a cloaked individual with a half mask covering the bottom half of their face was not entirely out of place around most parts, afterall, and the force aura around them did not seem disturbed or even that different from Obi-Wan’s own. However Obi-Wan was not one for simple cursory glances when his life was at stake - given the sheathed lightsaber that could be glimpsed between the robe’s folds, and the yellow tinged eyes of a humanoid woman poking out between their half mask and hood, Obi-Wan knew this was no longer a simple recon assignment.

The woman turned to the Gardinoan escorting her, and murmured for them to leave them. The Gardinoan - after turning towards Obi-Wan as if to make sure that the padawan was still in the cell - nodded, and scuttered away from the woman, the door to the room clicking shut behind him and a heavy silence filling the space left behind.

Obi-Wan remained still within his cell, waiting for the cloaked woman to speak, or even act. Instead, she watched him from beneath her hood, eyes stuck to Obi-Wan’s face as if she was judging a piece of work and found it lacking. The silence stretched into the minutes, and Obi-Wan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand - should he talk? Should he question her? If he talked first could he get the upper hand, convince her play her hand or let him out, maybe even -

“No, not what I expected at all.” The woman said, words cutting into the silence - and it wasn’t the voice of an old woman, or a monster, but of a young woman - his age, or even younger maybe. Someone that could hopefully be bested by a padawan, if needs be … although Obi-Wan was grateful for the bars that surrounded his cell, for the little protection they offered from the Sith on the other side.

Fighting the urge to reach for his lightsaber, sheathed at his own waist - it was time to stall.

“Oh really? Well, I do hate to disappoint. Who exactly were you expecting?”

A scoff, quiet and as full of humour as it was of mockery.

Yellow eyes ran quickly across his face, before the woman reached up, sweeping her hood back and pulling her half mask down in quick succession so that, Obi-Wan imagined, he could see the disappointment on her face. Which, of course, was there, but she was …. not what he expected either.

Force users were not creatures from children’s tales, he knew. Whether dark or light, a force user could come from any planet, look like any of the millions of the universe’s designs, and he had seen before the mask’s removal her eyes, and that she was shaped in a similar enough way to any of the many humanoid species that littered every space between stars, but still. He had imagined, beneath the mask - as far as he had gone to imagine her at all - a monster. Like he imagined all the Sith. Not hideous, not grotesque, but evil. Visibly evil, because if her force aura wasn’t going to mark an obvious and unbridgeable difference between them, surely something should.

But no.

She was just … an attractive woman. A very attractive woman.

(The type of woman, perhaps, in a different universe, where Obi-Wan was not good and she was not evil, or he was not beholden to the Jedi Code, or in a universe where Jedi did not exist at all - as terrible as that would be, of course - that he might ask her out for a drink. Or perhaps to a picnic underneath the stars on Naboo. Maybe they could have grown up together as children.)

Why could the day not have gone as planned?

What was she staring at now?

Oh. He hadn’t heard a word she’d just said, and by the looks of it - by how she had rolled her eyes and recovered her face, by how her back was turning and she was beginning to walk towards the shut door - she wasn’t planning on staying much longer.

Qui-Gon was going to kill him if he let a Sith walk away from him without any information. He needed something, anything, that they could tell the Council, something important -

“Can I at least get your name?”

Dammit. What was wrong with him?

The woman paused at the door, laughing quietly as she turned back to face him without taking a step closer.

“No, you cannot. What you can have, Jedi, is a secret - would you like it?”

Padawan. I am not a Jedi yet.

But Obi-Wan nodded, words kept pressed down in his throat, crawling around like snakes. The woman seemed pleased at his answer, taking a few steps closer and beckoning him to the bars that separated them - and almost subconsciously, Obi-Wan found himself at the edge of his cell, leaning against the cold metal and watching her.

“Well, Master, you’re very lucky - and please understand, I am not in the business of telling Jedi scum my secrets, but neither am I in the business of leaving Jedi unharmed after being in my presence. So, Jedi … I’m sure you’re honoured to know that I have given you the gift of being my first, and hopefully only.”

Oh.

She was leaving him alive.

(But that means she really was here to kill someone who wasn’t him, she wasn’t here for Obi-Wan at all - his master, Qui-Gon, would she go to him next? Would Obi-Wan have to stand here as she plunged her lightsaber through his chest, or across his neck - he had to get out, he had to find Qui-Gon, he needed to get them out of this place -

But the woman was already leaving, she was already back at the door, and it was already open, she was already stepping out, but Qui-Gon - )

“I can feel the fear rolling off you, Jedi. You might want to work on that.”

And with the last words spoken over her shoulder towards him, she was gone.

What was he going to do?

- - -

What he was going to do, in the end, was have what may have been a small panic attack as he remained in his cell for another hour.

His lightsaber couldn’t free him from the cell - the bars, whatever they were made of, seemed to absorb the energy.

He couldn’t persuade anyone to let him out - not a soul had graced his presence since the woman’s exit, leaving him with nothing but her ghost and the fear and the images.

(The woman, unmasked and beautiful and terrible. Qui-Gon in a cell of his own, weaponless and restricted, and her over him, and her lightsaber in hand, and would Qui-Gon be able to fight her off? Surely Qui-Gon would fight, and surely Qui-Gon would win, he always won, but what if he didn’t? What if he died there, or died trying to escape her, dead on the floor like an animal or worse, his corpse taken by the woman like a trophy back to wherever she had emerged from. Would Obi-Wan ever leave, would he ever become a Jedi, could he without Qui-Gon, and - )

Breathe. Fear is the path to the dark side. Breathe. Fear leads to anger. Breathe. Anger leads to hate. Breathe. Hate leads to suffering. Breathe.

Qui-Gon is going to be fine. She may not even be here from him, Obi-Wan reminded himself. And realistically, she can’t have been - she clearly did not recognise him as a padawan, and if she had been here for Qui-Gon and known the man was nearby, she would surely have taunted Obi-Wan with whatever her plans were, knowing that the younger man would be able to do nothing about it.

But what if -

Safe to say, it was a very long hour until his Master walked back into the room, alongside one of Gardinoan jailors from earlier, looking unharmed and only mildly annoyed.

Qui-Gon nodded towards his padawan: are you okay? Unhurt?

A smile, small and quick, back.

A sigh of relief from the older man, and a look towards the Gardinoan.

“Now that you have your answers, can my padawan be released?”

The Gardinoan - as thinly necked and heavily armed as ever, but now with a distinct look of embarrassment on his face, pale skin flushed and gaze almost constantly lowered - nodded quickly at the Jedi Master, hands quickly finding the keys to open the cell’s door and free the younger man.

(And Obi-Wan really did need to do some digging into exactly what the bars were made of, when they were free and away from the whole damn planet.)

Once free of the cell Obi-Wan walked quickly up to his mentor, and the two of them turned and left the room, leaving the Gardinoan behind them with their longer strides. With neither of them particularly looking forward to remaining amongst the people that had imprisoned them - and for no reason, at that - Obi-Wan was not surprised to see the Jedi lead him back towards the hanger in which their ship had originally landed.

“What in the world was that, Master?”

Qui-Gon sighed, resting a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Unbelievably, mistaken identity - apparently, the two of us resemble a pair of bounty hunters some of the locals had a fair bit of issue with a few years ago. You would think that given we are very clearly Jedi here on Jedi Council business,” he spoke louder now, with the Gardinoan that still trailed a distance behind the pair able to hear him if their now redder cheeks were any indication, “a few moments questioning would be enough to convince them that we are not two low-rate rogues, but alas. Apparently not.” Qui-Gon dropped his voice again, concern colouring his words. “How were you, young one? Nothing too unpleasant?”

Well, Master. There was, or at least I’m fairly sure there was, a Sith in the room. Her force aura was barely any different than yours, or Master Windu’s, or mine own, and she was quite beautiful, and she didn’t kill me, but a Sith nonetheless, I think. I barely listened to a word she said, and I hadn’t even thought to try and question her until she was halfway out the door, but -

No chance.

“No, Master. I was left alone for the most part, anyway, aside from someone who came in to watch me for a while. I - I am just glad you are well. I was worried for you.”

At Qui-Gon’s weary smile at Obi-Wan’s barely half truth, the padawan’s heart seemed to stutter.

What in the world had he just done.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan imagine #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #glass #my writing

51 notes · View notes