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where-fantasy-meets-reality · 3 years

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“It’s You” Chapter 8

Masterlist Chapter 7

Pairing: Obi-Wan x Fem reader

Word Count: 3.2 K

Warnings: THEY’RE DANCING! probably typos. I used a direct quote from the 2015 live action “Cinderella” because its honestly too good not to use but just added Obi calling the reader “Darling”...cuz that always needs a warning. *swoons* ...also, Grad school is a lot.

A/N: Welcome back everyone! Anything in italics is an inner thought and the depiction of the Queen is based on Qui-Gon’s love interest Tahl (I am not sure if thats cannon or lore at this point but thats what I found on Google) So this chapter was originally much longer but because of the way things are going in my personal life, (nothing bad I am just extremely busy with work and life) I decided to cut this chapter into two parts because I don’t want this story to go on hiatus. By getting two chapters out of my initial one, it gives me an extra week to produce something. Hope y'all are enjoying it and again, thank you for all the love and support you have given this story! 🥰 If you would like to be added to the taglist or have something to say, leave a comment 😊

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From the moment you entered into the ballroom, you took his breath away. The way your ball gown swung around you as you moved, how your shoes sparked in the light of the room as they peaked out from under your dress. The beautiful way your dress deepend from a silvery blue to a midnight blue at the bottom. How the wings of a butterfly seemed to jut out of the side of your mask that covered your eyes, a mix of silver and various shades of blue covering its wings.

The Prince didn’t consider himself a nervous person or someone who was lacking self confidence. But the more he watched you slowly descend the staircase, he felt like the ballroom was spinning upside down and it was hard to breathe.

“Who is she?” He heard Padme whisper. Anakin grunted, a sound of indifference, as he gave a shoulder shrug of unknowing.

“I haven’t a clue.” The Prime Minister stated as he leaned a bit closer to the railing from where he stood next to the King.

But Obi-Wan wasn't listening to any of the chatter that was taking place around him, instead he was only focus on you.

Your graceful movements, a gentleness he hadn’t seen in many people before made him smile. Stunning….that's the only word that he could come up with as he watched you.

His brain seemed to be reeling at pace faster than he could register where his thoughts were going. If he could turn and kiss Anakin, he would. His idea of opening up the invitations to the whole village had been just what Obi-Wan had been hoping for….for he would have remembered if he had seen you at one of these balls before.

Feeling like he was floating on air, he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. You were exactly what he had been waiting for in life and if you were half as intelligent and kind as you were graceful and beautiful…..well then not only would he explode….but he knew he’d be a fool to not do everything he could to capture your attention and keep it.

A cool sweat of adrenaline and excitement was washing over him the more he watched you. Ignoring all the chatter and murmuring around him, he knew he had to break away from this balcony and get to you before anyone else had the chance to ask you for a dance.

“Please excuse me.” He muttered as he dashed away from the railing, towards the staircase that led to the ballroom floor.

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The crowd seemed to part around as you reached the bottom of the staircase. Your eyes roamed the crowd, looking for Ahsoka….while simultaneously hoping to avoid Rena, Trace and Rafa. Not that you thought they would recognize you, especially in the beautiful dress you were wearing….but you didn’t want to take any chances.

From the back of the crowd, as it seemed to part, you noticed the man you had locked eyes with from the balcony walking toward you.

You weren't sure if it was the dress or the man that was approaching you that made it hard to breathe. He was beautiful but the dress also had a form fitting bodice; the traditional ball type.

How was this going to work with blending in, if the crowd seemed to be parting for him? Who was he? Who did one have to be to have the crowd parted around him? All you wanted to do was just find Ahsoka. Yet, that was becoming increasingly difficult as this man that crowds seemed to part for was now clearly making his way towards you.

“So much for a quiet evening of not being noticed with your best friend.” You silently thought to yourself.

Everything about him was regal and striking, including his appearance. His cerulean blue eyes that were a stark contrast to the cream and red that adorned him, should have stopped you in your tracks. They seemed to speak to you from across the ballroom.

In a way they did, but no in a bad way. They seemed to be holding a feeling of excitement and joy in them. Radiating with kindness and warmth. It allowed you to take a relaxing breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

He was coming closer. A small smile seemed to creep up over him and it caused you to mirror the same expression.

He stopped in front of you.

“Hello there.” He spoke softly.

“Hello.” You murmured back.

He gave you a formal bow and you courtsyed back. You weren’t used to performing such a formal gesture but you were raised to be respectful, therefore you performed the action with little fuss. Once he straightened he held his hand out toward you.

“Would you do me the honor of leading the first official dance of the evening.”

His voice was so velvety smooth that it made your head spin. His hand was extended out toward you, patiently waiting for your answer.

Frozen with indecision, you stared at his hand. He was so patient in his question. There was no demand, no requirement. His eyes softened and he smiled as his hand was still extended toward you.

As if you were zapped by a bolt of lightning, you suddenly realized who this man was. The crowd parting. The regale appearance and attire. Standing up in the balcony with other royal officials. The first official dance of the evening. This was the Prince.

You sucked in a breath, trying not to make it visible that you had only just now figured out who he was.

It would make sense why you hadn't recognized him. You hardly ever went into the village anymore. You hadn't seen the Prince appear in public in years; and when he had, he was much younger. You remember seeing him at the Queens funeral, at ribbon cutting ceremonies….or riding through the countryside. Sometimes he would pass by your estate, which was on the edge of the kingdom's capital. But again, it had been ages.

“Now what do I do?” You silently panicked. You couldn’t very well refuse the Prince of all people; but this wasn’t supposed to happen. This event was supposed to be something that you slipped in and out of without being seen. You just wanted to see Ahsoka.

And yet….something about the kindness in his expression, the gorgeous blue in his eyes, and the calming presence he brought with him as he still waited for your answer….made you want to forget about every reason that you originally came there for that night.

“You may.” You whispered as you placed your hand gently in his.

His fingers curled gently around your hand. Gracefully he led you to the middle of the ballroom. Arriving in the middle, he held onto your hand as he gave you a formal bow. You mimicked him and curtsied like you did earlier.

When you rose to your full height, he stepped into you. He never let go of the hand he was originally holding onto; instead he caused it to bend gently at the elbow. His other hand came around your waist, resting firmly but gently there. Your free hand took some of your dress in hand so that you would be able to dance without killing yourself but tripping on all the fabric.

Stepping forwards, he slowly started swaying with you around the ballroom floor as the orchestra began playing. His enchanting eyes never left you and his smile never hardened. As he twirled and spun you, you noticed that the crowd that circled the ballroom was intently watching you. Infact, beyond the orchestra, there was not a sound to be heard in the room.

“They’re all looking at you.” You whispered to him as you returned to facing him; your eyes wide and almost afraid.

His facial expression softened even more than it already had for a split second until it was replaced with a slight smirk. “Believe me darling, they’re all looking at you.”

You tried not to blush at his compliment. In fact, you were just trying to focus on dancing and not stepping on his toes. It was also as if you could feel the eyes of everyone in the ballroom watching you. You tried not to think of the fact that your step family could possibly notice you, that thought would only distract you from the moment at hand.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore eyes on you, you found Ahsoka in the crowd. Everyone else may have been fooled, thinking you were a “princess,” but the way her eyes followed you around the ballroom and the way her mouth hung open, you knew she recognized you. You averted her gaze as continued dancing...no….gliding across the ballroom floor.

The Prince was an expert dancer, making up for whatever inexperience you may have had. He expertly and easily took you are the ballroom, his beautiful endless eyes never leaving you. His guiding hand gentle on your back and in your hand, where he was holding you and leading you.

You tried to slow your breathing down as you were starting to become nervous. Everything was like a dream and this was far more than you had expected. Yet, this was truly an amazing moment and your step-family would take great pleasure in ruining it, if they knew it meant something to you. That thought made your blood run cold and had potential to ruin everything, including the moment. You just silently prayed that they didn’t recognize you.

Sensing your nervousness, the Prince’s hand you a little squeeze where his hand rested on the small of your back.

“Breathe. It’s okay. I know the stares of others can be a lot but forget about them….Keep your eyes on me. I won’t let anything happen to you.....”

His eyes stared intently at you as you felt his hand tug at the small of your back again where it rested; another gentle gesture to match his words.

Letting out a breath, you relaxed into the movement of the dance, allowing him to continue to lead you through the steps.

The Prince’s smile brightened. “There you go…..see, you're a natural. Nothing to worry about.”

Your facial expression mirrored his as let go of your waist to twirl you in a series of circles as the two of you moved around the ballroom floor in perfect sync. As he twirled you back into him, he picked up the pace as the orchestra increased their tempo.

This had to be a dream. If you closed your eyes, you swear you were dancing on a cloud, everything was so magical. He was an expert dancer, flawlessly guiding you through the dance and with every moment you felt confidence grow. The tender grip he had on your hand and waist helped to keep you feeling grounded and connected to him while his eyes continued to leave you with butterflies in your stomach. You could just about hear the slight murmur of the crowd, but you choose to keep your focus on him like he had suggested. Your poofy ball gown twirled and moved with you, almost acting as an extension of yourself.

The melody of the orchestra was slowing down as you realized his movements were becoming less extravagant. Gripping your waist slightly, he dipped you backwards as he leaned over you and gazed into your eyes.

The cerulean blue pools that shone brightly from behind the mask of red, gold and cream made your breath hitch. He was the only thing holding you up, keeping you on the ground and from floating away from this movement; for you were sure you were going to wake up anytime now. Either that or something was going to happen, because this was too beautiful of a moment to be real…..things like this didn’t happen to you. You should have been scared to be the center of attention in public or nervous that we would drop you, but you weren’t. There was something about him, something that made you feel safe and protected, as if anything did happen to you in this moment that he would be there for you; to protect you or aid you.

Rising you up to your full height and setting you back on your feet as the music ended, he let go of you. Stepping back from you slightly, he gave you a formal bow as the orchestra stopped playing. You returned his gesture with a deep and low curtsey; ending the dance the same way it had begun. The crowd around the two of you erupted into applause.

The Prince extended a hand out toward you, helping you rise to your feet. His skin was warm against yours and you smiled at his kind gesture.

The applause died down as the music of the next piece started again. Couples started rushing the dance floor. Sweeping your body towards his, he came to stand behind you so that his lips were in line with your ear. “Follow me.” He whispered.

He stepped out from behind you, and led you by the hand off the dance floor.

You looked over your shoulder, locking eyes with Ahsoka. You mouthed an “I’m sorry.” You felt terrible, you didn’t want to disappoint her. But she chuckled and motioned for you to go along with the Prince. You smiled and mouthed a “thank you” back. She would be alright...especially because you happened to notice the Duke of Tatooine’s personal guard standing next to her, Captain Rex. She had mentioned in passing that she was becoming friendly with him. However, you knew your friend. She played things close to the chest and was protective of herself and the people she cared about. “Friendly” was her way of saying that she liked him. You hoped that the Captain was a genuine man….he’d have hell to pay from you if he wasn’t; you weren’t above giving the Captain an ear full and possibly more if he hurt your best friend.

Obi-Wan led you to a small sitting room that was off the ballroom, two palace guards opening the doors as he approached.

“Please close them.” He whispered over his shoulder to the two men. Promptly at his request, the doors shut swiftly once the two of you were in the room. Catching your breath, the two of you stared at each other.

Now that it was just the two of you, everything seemed less intimidating. The man that you seemed to be the only thing that held you to the floor was present in front of you; not the Crown Prince, but the man.

“You dance marvelously.” He commented as he fixed his tunic, still trying to slow down his breathing.

Smoothing your hands over your dress, you took a deep breath. “Thank you. Although I must say, it certainly helped that I had a wonderful partner.”

He blushed, his checks momentarily matching the color of the sash that sat across his chest. “Thank you.” He murmured.

Trying not to let things get too awkward, you looked around the room. There were a few bookcases here and there; each one stacked with shelves of books. In the middle of the room were four formal sitting chairs that were placed in a square. In front of them was a large and grand fireplace that had a roaring fire going. Above it, a golden gilded mirror sat. In the mirror's reflection you noticed that there was a series of three portraits sitting on the wall on the opposite side of the room. Turning, you wandered over to them.

The first one was a portrait of the King, although he looked much younger. He could have been the age the Prince was now. His hair had less gray in it and his facial features were younger and sharper looking. The painting in the middle was a painting of the Prince. He sat astride a beautiful white horse and he was wearing a regal military outfit. The last portrait was a portrait of a woman. Her hair was raven colored, her skin darker, and her vivid green-blue eyes accented her emerald dress gorgeously. On top of her head sat an ornate golden crown that was accented with emeralds and sapphires, similar to the one the King wore this evening.

“Beautiful.” You murmured as you looked at the woman.

“She was, wasn’t she?” Obi-Wan whispered as he came to stand next to you.

“Was she your mother?” You asked as you turned and looked at him.

He just nodded his head.

“Sadly I never saw her....I didn’t go into the village much as a child...or an adult really....But, I remember when she passed….My mother wept for days….She said she was heart broken for you and your father and said that the Queen was a kind and caring soul.”

He smiled as turned and looked at you. “How touching. Your mother sounds like an equally wonderful woman.”

“She was.” You sighed happily, memories of your mother flashing through your mind. Your facial expression turned somber as you looked back at the portrait of the Queen.

His facial expression shifted as turned his body towards you. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Please forgive me, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sadden you.”

“Oh, no you didn’t. My mother died a long time ago. My father passed away a few years ago as well….It’s okay, it’s something that I’ve accepted.”

A flicker of sadness flashed in his eyes. “Both your parents are gone?”

Now it was your turn to silently nod your head. He took your hand in his, a gentle gesture.

“I am so very sorry. I can’t imagine what that must be like…..I adored my mother as she was a kind and genuine woman….and….my father….well, he’s like my best friend….I can’t imagine what it will be like when he isn't around….” His eyes wandered off momentarily, but they came back to you. “I’m sorry that you have had to go through that.”

“It’s okay..... but nonetheless I thank you, your Highness.” You gave his hand a soft squeeze.

“Please….call me Obi-Wan.”

You nodded your head. “Obi-Wan.”

It felt weird to address the future ruler of one of the largest kingdoms so casually by his first name, but at the same time….it felt so right, so intimate. Again, he had this way of making you feel completely safe and at ease with him, a feeling that you weren't used to experiencing in your life.

Wanting to put the sad moment behind you, you glanced over his shoulder at one of the bookcases. “I wonder what treasures lie here?” You teased as you walked toward them.

He followed you. “Do you like to read?”

Looking over your shoulder, you gave him a bright smile. “I love to read….growing up it was one of my favorite past times….My father and mother let me read whatever I wanted too.” Turning towards the book shelf, you ran one of your hands over the spines of the books that sat neatly in a row. “Books on geography, science, philosophy, other languages….but they also let me read books that had wonderful stories of talking animals, great big adventures, heroes and magical villains…”

Obi-Wan seemed to be captivated by you as he listened to your words. “Which one was your favorite?”

Turning to face him, you slightly bit your bottom lip in thought. “I honestly don’t know if I could choose….It would be like trying to choose a favorite star in the night sky or a favorite friend.”

Never taking his eyes off you, he breathed in deeply as he just held your gaze and smiled.

“You’re quite remarkable, you know that?”

“Oh I wouldn’t go that far.” You chuckled bashfully.

“I would.” He quipped back quickly. “Fabulous dancer, bright, kind, and smart….beautiful.”

Again, your eyes shyly averted his gaze, as you weren’t used to receiving such a compliment. Instead you choose to look outside, through the french glass, double doors. Beyond the moon shown beautifully over a what looked like a beautiful garden.

Seeing your interest at what lie beyond the sitting room, Obi-Wan settled closer to you.

“Would you like to join me for a stroll in the garden?” He offered his arm out to you.

Stepping into him, you linked his arm with yours. “I’d like that very much.”

@mrskenobi19 @thereluctantherosrose @sillynilly27 @fandomtrashwhore @lovelyweepingrebel

#obi wan kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi wan #obi #obi-wan #Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader #obi-wan X reader #obi wan fluff #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan x y/n #obi-wan fanfic

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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years

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how about #12 “it reminded me of you” with obi wan and satine ✨

Hey girlie!!! Thanks so much for the prompt, you know I have fun with these two! From these prompts/prompts now closed

Read on Ao3

Here ya go!

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In every way, the forest felt enchanted, like the ones from the stories Obi-Wan was told as a youngling.

The sun’s stubborn beams broke their way through the dense forest canopy, allowing their light to shine on Satine every once in a while. For a brief, glimmering moment, the sunbeams turned blonde hair golden and Obi-Wan could not help but let his eyes be drawn to it.

For a moment he could forget that he was not here for some retreat or vacation, but rather, a mission.

Yes, a mission. He glanced over at Satine who walked in front of him like it was her mission and not his. Obi-Wan swallowed his pride and allowed himself this brief moment of peace.

For now, they were unaccompanied — left alone together to fend for themselves in the woods while Qui-Gon went the long way around to meet them at the rendezvous.

Obi-Wan was grateful to his Master for taking the bounty hunters on a wild goose chase far away from them. It meant that for now, the young Jedi and Duchess were safe — or as safe as anyone could be while they were on the run.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and sank back into the Force. It was so alive here. Obi-Wan was never and would never be as in-tune with the Living Force as his Master, but right now, in the middle of this lush and thriving forest, Obi-Wan could feel it pulse around and through him, harmonizing with his beating heart.

Satine seemed to sense his lighthearted mood.

“What has you so lively this morning?” she asked turning around to face him. The sunlight danced on her curls when she turned her head like that and Obi-Wan tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.

“Must I have cause to be cheerful?”

“Seeing as you so rarely are, yes, you do. Now, what is it?”

Obi-Wan smiled. “This place… it’s nice.”

Satine frowned. “This forest? This hot, muggy forest? That’s what it takes to make you smile? A miserable environment?”

“It is not miserable,” he said defensively. “You wouldn’t understand it.”

“Try me.”

“I can… I can feel the life flowing through everything around us and it… I don’t know,” Obi-Wan was starting to feel rather stupid in his explanation. His cheeks flushed at the rare outpouring of emotion.

Satine, however, seemed unphased.

“Believe me, Jedi, I do not wish to be one of your kind,” she started, “but sometimes I wish I could see the world the way you saw it. Feel it the way you feel it. Just for a day.”

“I think that would be rather cruel,” Obi-Wan said.

“To be a Jedi for a day?”

“To have the Force for a day, only to have it ripped from you. It would be like someone gouging out your eyes and cutting off your ears all at once. I would not wish it upon my enemies.”

“Very well then, I take it back. I’ll continue on in my ignorance,” Satine smirked at him.

Obi-Wan shook off her remarks and they continued on their path, Satine still in the lead.

The forest was hot and muggy, Obi-Wan realized and he silently cursed Satine for pointing it out. Sweat coated his skin and his clothing stuck to him uncomfortably, but even that could hardly dampen his spirits.

Lost in his thoughts and in the swells of the Force, Obi-Wan startled when Satine stopped and let out a soft gasp.

Obi-Wan snapped to attention and looked to her. “What is it, Duchess?” His fingers grazed his lightsaber.

“Look!” she said, excitement of her own now lilting her voice upwards.

Obi-Wan stepped beside her and laid eyes on what caused her to gasp. The forest before them was blanketed it bright blue butterflies. Every trunk, every branch, every fallen log. The ground, the leaves, the mushrooms that plumed like clouds from the earth, all of it was covered by the winged insects.

Perhaps this is what was causing his lighthearted mood. Hundreds, thousands, of pure Force signatures pulsing and existing so close to him. “They must be migrating,” Obi-Wan whispered.

Wings opened and closed, some slow, some fast, some not at all. Some of the butterflies took flight, only to settle in with a different horde of its brethren. Obi-Wan turned to Satine and realized her eyes matched the color of the butterfly wings.

As though she could feel him staring at her, she turned to him. “What is it?”

“Do you wish to know how I see them?” he asked shyly.

“What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked me why I was so happy. It was because of this. Because of all the life in the Force. Every living thing has its own Force signature that is uniquely theirs. I see them differently from you.”

“How do you see them then?”

“Well, as all living things are, they are unique from one another, and yet, there is a uniformity between them. They migrate together and I can see the connections between them,” Obi-Wan began. Satine was staring at the butterflies, but she was nodding her head along with him. He took it as permission to continue.

“It’s almost as if the air between them ripples with their shared connection, but not in a way that distorts my vision. And it is only if I’m actually looking for it, if I were not allowing myself to sink deeper into the Force, then I would not see it exactly this way.

“Their signatures pulse at their own unique pace, some faster, some slower. Some of them have their own color. It varies from butterfly to butterfly, but it’s… well it’s beautiful.”

“And every living thing has one? A Force signature you called it?” Satine asked.

“Yes, everything.”

“And you see everything like that?”

“If I choose to. I can filter it out if it’s overwhelming.”

“How do you see me?”

Obi-Wan paused and he faltered. How could he describe how he saw her? No poet nor scribe could assign words to it, and Obi-Wan could hardly call himself either one of those.

“I don’t know… you’re, well,” Obi-Wan stuttered.

Satine put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, taking his hesitance for some sort of insult.

“How do you see me, Padawan Kenobi?” she said again.

“You’re golden,” he finally spluttered out. “You… you glow. Not like a Force-sensitive does, it’s different from that, but you glow brighter than most sentient life forms and it’s… enchanting.”

He flushed and looked away from her.

Enchanting? Did I really just use the word enchanting to describe her? Come on, Kenobi, what are you thinking?

Hardly a poet indeed.

“Enchanting?”

“Yes,” he cringed. “I… couldn’t think of a better word.”

Satine laughed, but there was no cruelty in it. “It is a fine enough word, though it is quite cliché,” she said. “I wish I could see you in the way you see me.”

“But you do see me,” he said. “Not like a Jedi, no. Maybe because you aren’t a Jedi. I don’t know, but you make me feel seen.”

Oh, he really was dipping into clichés now, wasn’t he?

This time Satine blushed. She turned her face further away from him and stared at the butterflies.

All at once, the butterflies took off — a curtain of blue interrupting the greens and browns of the forest. To Obi-Wan, the air shimmered with their individual signatures. It was as mesmerizing as it was dizzying, and Obi-Wan had to take a brief moment to look away.

“Are you all right?” Satine asked.

“Yes, Duchess,” Obi-Wan said, though he found looking at her to be even more dizzying. “I’m quite all right.”

Together, they stood and watched the butterflies flutter away until not even one remained.

The butterflies were gone and Obi-Wan and Satine kept moving forward.

***

10 Years Later

Obi-Wan strode down the ramp of his ship with a confidence he did not truly feel. Obi-Wan had always been good at faking it until he made it and now was no exception.

The corners of the rectangular box he held in his robe poked at him, but he ignored it.

“Master Kenobi,” Satine’s musical voice rang out. “A pleasure it is to see you on Mandalore once again.”

“A pleasure it is to visit, Duchess.”

“Come, I have much to show you before we head to the senatorial dinner.”

As promised, Satine showed him the new school she had built for the children of refugees. She showed him the new fine arts center and the library in all of its glory.

At the dinner, they sat beside one another, trading glances only they would understand the meaning of. Satine and Obi-Wan managed to get through it without offending any of the off-world politicians — a new record for them.

They allowed themselves a night together. Just one night. A moment of indulgence for two people who sacrificed everything for duty.

But morning came as it always did and the new day signaled the end of their short-lived escape.

Once again, they found themselves standing in front of the ramp of his ship, exchanging barbs and banter that would have been insulting to anyone else. But this was him and this was her and they had their own way of communicating.

Obi-Wan was about to offer his goodbyes before he remembered the rectangular box inside his robes.

“Oh! I almost forgot. I saw this on Pantora and… well… it reminded me of you.”

Obi-Wan handed her the box and she opened it gently. Inside, a delicate chain held the silver figure of a butterfly.

“Like all those years ago,” Satine said softly.

“Exactly.”

“It’s beautiful, Obi-Wan,” Satine said, looking at the necklace reverently.

“You like it?”

“Yes,” she said. She locked eyes with him and gave him a grin. “It’s… enchanting.”

Obi-Wan groaned. “You’re never going to let that one go, are you, Duchess?”

“Not in this lifetime, my dear Jedi,” she smiled mischievously. Gently she pulled the silver chain out of the box and began opening the clasp.

“Let me,” Obi-Wan said, and to his surprise, she did. He stood behind her and worked the clasp. He tried not to get caught up in the curve of her neck or the smell of her hair and focused on the task at hand.

“Can you not stay for just one more day?” Satine asked softly, just as the clasp snapped shut.

Obi-Wan sighed. If she had asked him before he would have said yes. But now…

“I must return to my Padawan, he is not pleased that I left him alone to his studies while I am off traipsing from planet to planet, surely having a better time than he,” Obi-Wan said rueful smile. He wanted to stay, but they both had their responsibilities. She knew that as well as he did.

“Right. I do not wish to keep you from him,” Satine said. Obi-Wan knew she understood, but he felt the melancholy of his departure as much as she did. “Until next time, Master Kenobi.”

“Until next time, Duchess Kryze.”

Obi-Wan allowed himself one last look at her before he turned around to leave.

The necklace glinted in the sunlight, but Obi-Wan paid it no mind. Its metallic glow was a shadow in comparison to hers, and her glow was all he cared to see.

#my writing #prompts now closed #obitine #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #prompt fill

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tennessoui · 3 years

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Mobi wan stressing about Anakin wanting to leave him (both before and after they get married) and then kuwsk obi wan stressing about Anakin wanting to move out (both the Thanksgiving incident and the router incident) like man being afraid of being left behind is really an integral part of the infinite sadness and I am feeling it bigtime

🥺 oh no you're right this is part of infinite sadness and that's really sad 🥺🥺 i have this sorta related scene from KUWSK that's planned out where Anakin and Obi-Wan (post final kiss in the classroom) talk about their relationship going forward now that they know they're in love and it's a relief but it's also just all new kinds of vulnerable.

This was supposed to be a snippet and in Kit fashion it's 1.3 words i blame the fact that i was listening to @usetheforce 's beautiful KUWSK playlist . Anyway this is an exposition on the fear of being left behind something something how love is trusting the person you love that they won't leave you, even if you don't know why 🥺

Obi-Wan feels silly for having his arms crossed. It's not like this is a fight. They're not fighting. They're telling each other their secrets. They're telling each other their dreams, their hopes, their feelings. It's not a fight, but Obi-Wan feels like his crossed arms are the only thing holding his body together.

Anakin doesn't look much better. He's staring resolutely down at the carpet between his feet. He's sprung for a nice hotel room for this. He's also sprung for a double, probably so Obi-Wan doesn't feel pressured.

All Obi-Wan feels is love for this man, hopeless, endearing, enduring love.

But Anakin is right. Love is one thing. A kiss in a classroom with an audience is one thing.

Attempting to rearrange their entire lives--that's another thing. There are people at stake. The twins. There's more here than love. There's so much that can go wrong.

Anakin knows that too, that's why he hasn't looked Obi-Wan in the eye since he stuttered out his own version of I'm in love with you.

That's why they're here in this nice hotel room, thirty minutes from home. That's why they're doing this here and not in the house, so if this doesn't--if they can't--if they decide not to--

Then hopefully they won't think about this moment every time they step through the front door.

If they stand on the precipice and decide to walk backwards, to not fall off that ledge, then they still need to be able to return home. They still need to be able to look each other in the eyes.

Obi-Wan’s said his bit. Obi-Wan’s said everything he knows how to say. I’m in love with you, for a start. You have given me more than I have ever thought I wanted, let alone needed. But the truth was I needed all of it. I still do. I have a home now. That’s priceless. There’s no equivalent that I can give you in exchange. Everything I am and will be and have become is already yours. Because I love you and I had not even noticed because it just made sense. Loving you has always made more sense than not loving you.

Not in those words, of course.

But Obi-Wan’s said his bit, and Anakin’s said his too, and now there’s no more secrets.

There’s just a decision to make.

Obi-Wan uncrosses his arms and sits on the end of the bed next to Anakin, two feet of space between them. “So then,” he says.

“Do we?” Anakin finishes the thought, half-turning towards Obi-Wan to throw him a sad little smirk.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan admits. “Do we?”

“Is it bad that a huge part of me wants to say. Let’s do it. Damn the future?” Anakin asks with a huff of a laugh.

“Of course not,” Obi-Wan reassures him, reaching across the bed to rest a hand on his knee. “I would say that I understand the impulse. Damn the future. I love you. You love me--” he says these words wondrously. He still can’t quite believe they’re true, that Anakin means them the same way Obi-Wan does. “Let’s move in together.”

Anakin shoots him an incredulous look and lets out a genuine snort. “But I know...we shouldn’t do that.”

Obi-Wan fights his every impulse to retract his hand from Anakin’s knee. He knows the words have a certain truth to them. He knows what Anakin’s thinking of. He knows he has a point. It still hurts to hear. “We need to talk about it,” he says diplomatically.

“Talk about it?” Anakin sounds hurt. “Why? We both already know. What if--what if we were to--to date, to try and make this work and then we can’t? Obi-Wan, the twins love you. They love you. They’re--you’re their other parent. They need a stable home environment, they--if we--if we try and we can’t do it, then what happens to them? What happens to you and them?”

They’re worries that Obi-Wan has thought of himself ever since the kiss this morning. But it feels different to hear them in Anakin’s voice, to hear them spoken out loud. If Obi-Wan and Anakin dated and then broke up, they probably couldn’t continue living together. Obi-Wan tries to imagine living with Satine in the months following the divorce papers being signed, but he can’t.

He knows people do it. He knows himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t be able to. If Anakin were to break up with him--the only way Obi-Wan can imagine their relationship ending--Obi-Wan would need months if not years before he was able to look him in the eye again. If ever, actually.

If Anakin were to break up with him--to hold everything Obi-Wan is in his hands and cast it aside for something else, like Satine had, like...like his father had, then Obi-Wan would not be able to see him everyday without breaking down into tears and begging him for a second chance, for a detailed list of all the things that he did wrong, all the things about himself that were so wrong that no one can stand to stay for long.

“If,” Anakin says, breaking the silence when it’s clear Obi-Wan isn’t going to say anything. “If we try and then you...you leave, I don’t--”

He stops himself and clears his throat, shaking his head and looking down at his hands. “Obi-Wan, it’d break my heart.”

Obi-Wan stares at him for a second, confused and mouth slightly open. Anakin sounds as if he’s operating under some serious misconceptions.

As if Obi-Wan would be the one to leave. Obi-Wan can’t imagine there’s anything Anakin could ever do in order to make him want to leave. It’s Anakin. Seven months ago, before Obi-Wan even realized he was in love with the man, he’d gotten wine drunk with Padme Amidala and asked her quite insistently how the fuck she could have turned Anakin down, not once--but twice.

It’s Anakin.

And if...if Anakin is half as sure as he sounds that the only way they would ever break up is if Obi-Wan decided to leave, then...then maybe it’s worth jumping off that precipice. Damn the future.

But Obi-Wan thinks maybe this future won’t be so bad at all.

It’s a strange kind of numb bravery that has him moving his hand from Anakin’s knee to his palm. “Anakin,” he says quietly, and he feels as if he’s watching this happen from someone else’s point of view. Surely this isn’t Obi-Wan Kenobi about to put his heart firmly and resolutely into another’s hands. Not after last time.

But the truth is, it’s been there for years already. It’s about trust. It’s about trusting Anakin to always think that Obi-Wan could leave and never entertain the possibility that he could.

“Anakin,” he says again, until Anakin looks up at him from beneath his lashes. It’s suddenly not enough for him. He wants closer. He wants his turn to kiss Anakin and mean it.

He leans slowly in, raising his other hand to tilt Anakin’s chin up to meet his mouth. He’s giving Anakin plenty of room to move away, but Anakin doesn’t. Anakin stays.

Maybe it’s time they start giving each other more credit for that.

He feels his eyelashes flutter closed just as his lips touch Anakin’s so carefully it’s hardly a kiss at all. Butterfly wings have more substance than this kiss, but Obi-Wan would not change it for the world. Anakin needs to know they can go slow, that they can be gentle with each other. Anakin needs to know that Obi-Wan will never hurt him.

Anakin needs to know that--

“If I were capable of ever, ever leaving you,” Obi-Wan murmurs, pulling back until their lips are just brushing with every word and opening his eyes just enough to see the perfect picture Anakin makes like this, “I would have done so when Luke was going through that phase where he insisted upon only eating orange foods.”

Anakin’s eyes flutter open in shock and then the words register, and the meaning behind them does as well. Slowly, a sort of breathless smile breaks across his face.

It’s the most beautiful thing Obi-Wan has ever seen.

#asks #KUWSK #did i say i had a scene planned?#i meant i had thought up the last line of dialogue here and knew i wanted to use it #you just know anakin's thinking the same sort of thing #where he's like? if i could get drunk with satine i would have to ask her why she left obi-wan?#voluntarily?#willingly?#i dont understand but doesnt mean i would give him back if she were to come to her senses now

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shatouto · 3 years

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hi yes this is another installment in the raised-as-sith anakin x jedi obi-wan au i co-write with @obiwanobi. we’ve been putting what we got so far on ao3 for archiving/organizing purposes so before you read this pls check it out first if you haven’t bc there is some semblance of continuity, thank you :’) (this installment on ao3)

content note: past psychological and physical abuse, messy healing, please proceed with care

you love him dearly

You stand alone in a great dark hall. There’s no sound but your pulse jolting in bouts inside your ears. Like the footsteps of a scared bantha. And you feel like a scared bantha. You haven’t felt like this in a long time. You used to be worth less than a bantha, with your weak hands and your small body. All you were ever able to do was get yourself and your mom hurt. You felt so bad, so very bad, so bad that you were willing to beg your mom to let you go, when this man came and swept you up. This man who called you the Chosen One. This man who you now call...

“Master,” you say, and waits for your Master to acknowledge you.

Sometimes you think it’s strange, to trade one master for another. But this Master, your Master, is a different sort. Your Master taught you how to hate the right people, in the right way; gave you a crystal and let you forge your own lightsabers. Your Master told you you were special. No, no, it doesn’t matter that you were a slave, you are special, my boy. You know you are different, do you not? That you learn faster than children your age; that your reflexes are sharper, your intuition stronger. You see things before people do, know things before people see, and do things before people know. The future and the past are sometimes indistinguishable in your dreams. Clever child, golden child, you are certainly worth more than a bantha; oh, you are worth more than the population on that sandy speck combined. You are the Chosen One! You are destined for greatness.

You were weak and small and nothing. You deserve so much more, so much more. A pity that the universe has never given you and will never give you what you truly deserve. None of that is your fault, my poor boy; they are simply too blind and puny to appreciate your capacity and recognize your power. But worry not: Your Master will give it to you. Your Master is here to help you. You love him dearly, because you are nothing without him, because the universe is stupid and cruel and you hate it for making you feel like nothing. Your Master, on the other hand, must love you dearly, or else he would not have told you all about how special you are. Would not have trained you to be so strong. Would not have given you the respectable name of…

“Darth Vader.”

The greeting sounds more like a warning, because you deserve it. “I—I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough.” Even your voice comes out too small.

“Little need to apologize in words, my apprentice,” says your Master. “You know what must be done. You must learn your lesson.”

You love him, you love him, you love him. You love your Master, you chant in your heart, as you hang your head and tuck your tongue back and wait like the good apprentice you are.

The first blow is always the hardest. You convulse, feeling as if a thousand red-hot needles are exploding from within your sinews. Blinding pain crackles through your body, and you scream yourself…

Awake.

Anakin sits up in his sleeping bag, panting. He thinks he heard the tail end of a scream, his own, but it’s all silent now. He’s alone in the dark, the healed stump of his right arm tingling under the prosthetic cap. He searches his psyche for the tatters of a bond between him and the late Sith Lord; there's nothing left. Darth Sidious is truly dead. Two strides away from him, Obi-Wan Kenobi sleeps soundly in his bed.

His eyes soften. The sight of Obi-Wan soothes him, reminding him of where he is in time and in space. It has been a few months since he killed his Sith Master. He is in the Jedi Temple, in quarters belonging to Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padawan Ahsoka Tano. Nobody knows he is here.

Anakin turns away as one would turn away from a too-bright light. You can’t look at the sun for too long or it’ll burn your eyes; especially if you are used to darkness. He breathes in, and out, and shakily pulls off the cover of the sleeping bag. His new metal fingertips nearly tear through the fabric.

“Anakin?”

Anakin doesn’t flinch, but his stomach flips. Obi-Wan’s silhouette slowly sits up in bed, tousled and softly rumpled and Anakin feels frighteningly tender in the chest. He keeps his head down, not wanting to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes right now.

“Anakin, is everything alright?”

Anakin mumbles out something vaguely affirmative, and pushes himself to his feet. “Fresher,” he says, hurrying away. He doesn’t return to the bedroom afterwards, but goes straight to the kitchenette and begins to prepare a rather large breakfast. He knows Obi-Wan doesn’t go back to sleep either. He wills himself to ignore the circles under Obi-Wan’s eyes, come morning.

—

“Anakin, I have been thinking,” Obi-Wan begins, as he takes their empty plates to the kitchen, where a dishwashing droid stands await. “You don’t happen to have a habit of meditating, do you?”

Anakin almost tenses up at meditating, but he only lets out a huff of breath and opens the droid’s compartment doors. He’s glad Ahsoka is away for the night, staying in her friend’s quarters or some such. If she joins in with Obi-Wan it’ll only be harder for him to reject the request. Because that’s clearly a request, no matter how fancily Obi-Wan phrases his question.

I hate it teeters on the tip of his tongue, but Anakin just answers: “No, I don’t.” Obi-Wan likes meditation, as all Jedi do. It would feel bad, be bad, to say he hates something Obi-Wan likes.

Obi-Wan hums. Dishes clink as he sets them in one by one. “Would you be so opposed to it, then?”

Anakin pulls his shields higher so that none of the screaming No no no I hate it in his mind is going to bleed through to Obi-Wan in the Force. He makes the mistake of turning to look at Obi-Wan, because he can’t help it, and he's met with a hopeful smile and gentle, crinkled eyes. He can't bear to see that smile fall. “...Guess not,” he mutters.

“I would keep you company, if that’s fine,” Obi-Wan continues on merrily, like the good-natured Jedi he is. “I mean to invite you to join me for meditation before bedtime, in fact. Is that alright?”

Anakin stares down at his mismatched hands. If there is one thing he hates more than meditating, it’s meditating with someone watching. He tries very hard not to grit his teeth.

“Of course, you don’t have to,” Obi-Wan adds, fingers briefly brushing Anakin’s flesh wrist. The sensation shoots right into Anakin’s heart. That settles it; it’s not even a question. Obi-Wan will be disappointed if he doesn’t.

“It’s alright,” Anakin says, shutting the droid’s compartment door. The timer beeps, unhelpfully helping him count down to the dreaded session.

—

“So this is meditation?” Anakin blurts.

Obi-Wan sits cross-legged on his bed, in his soft robes and sleeping pants. He opens his eyes in a quizzical gaze as Anakin remains standing. Anakin curls his hands into fists and tries not to fiddle with the hem of his tunic. Obi-Wan frowns, unfurls from his position and comes up so near that Anakin wants to hold his breath. He smells like the cotton flower-scented fabric softener, like crisp, warm laundry - he smells like hard-earned safety. “You don’t need to lie to me, Anakin,” he says, a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I will instruct you from the beginning if you need me to, and I promise to help you with any difficulty. Now tell me: Have you meditated before?”

Obi-Wan says so, but Anakin is not about to tell him about the Sphere; about the long hours spent in that terrible spheroid room with enough space for you to wish you could move from your spot, but the walls were too smooth and curved for you to scale; about how silent it was in there save for his Master’s voice in his mind. Anakin is not about to tell this Jedi about the splatter of blood in the Sphere where he once bashed his head against until he passed out because he could not take it. How Sidious had punished him for it afterwards. How he never dared to do it again.

“...No,” Anakin says. “Show me.”

Obi-Wan nods; his hand slips down his shoulder and runs gently down his arm. Anakin blinks. Obi-Wan's touch always feels so… nice. Unhurried and mellow and never really demanding anything back. “I see. Take a seat beside me. Make yourself comfortable, please.”

Anakin crosses his legs as Obi-Wan does. Nervousness winds his core tight, makes his back rigid and ramrod straight. Obi-Wan is near him, both in physical presence and in the Force, his signature pulsing with the light of sunrays through butterfly wings.

“Relax, Anakin. Loosen your muscles”—his warm hand traces across Anakin’s back from shoulder to shoulder, then down his spine—“and your jaws.” His fingertips brush the hinge of Anakin’s jaws just as he says so. Anakin nearly shivers. It takes him longer than he thought it would, to truly follow those orders.

“...There we go,” Obi-Wan says. He draws back, and Anakin should be glad that the distracting touch is gone, but he feels disappointed instead. “Now breathe in deep. Ah, wait. Do it again, breathe in, deeper, and try to hold it. Yes, like that…”

They spend the next quarter hour or so wrestling with his breathing pattern, keeping it both deep and steady. Anakin goes from counting the beats to counting the breaths to finally not needing to count at all. And then when he thinks he’s gotten the hang of it…

“Let go? You mean I shouldn’t focus on my breathing anymore?” he asks, puzzled, bordering on frustrated. “But you just told me to be mindful of it.”

“Yes, correct, Anakin.” Obi-Wan sounds unfazed. “Be mindful of the rhythm, and keep it up. You’ve done well so far. Now you must turn your focus inwards, and meet the Force within you.”

Anakin’s eyes slide open for a split second and then fall shut again. He doesn’t understand, but he could just try. This isn’t any difficulty that he needs to bother his instructor with. He nods, and begins again. He begins with his breathing. In, and out. Slow, and steady. And now he must not think about the breaths anymore. Now he must...

The Force within him is a well of ink. Ink that glisten from black to crimson like the blood on his hand. Ink that sloshes and laps against the walls and the echoes turn into screams. A bright white fracture crackles from one corner of his vision to the other. Centipede-like arches of incandescence skitter under his skin. Drip, drip, the blood, no, the ink, it drips and it trails and it tickles his skin. There’s the familiar taste of copper at the back of his tongue, flavors just waiting to burst. Cruel laughter echoes from the bottom of the inky well, and somewhere in the thick darkness there is the outline of a woman’s silhouette, of small but strong shoulders and—

Something warm brushes his psyche.

Warm, but too close. Anakin snatches that tendril without a thought and delves counter-current through Force-realm. He forces himself to the other side, even as something shatters around him. He knows the drill. *Your self-preservation can only come at the cost of others', my boy.* Colors begin to flash, gentle and muted, bearing the fuzzy quality of memories. Sunlight flickers, filigree wings flutter, landing on durasteel grounds. He feels tears on his face and tears in his throat and his forehead is pressed close to someone else’s, someone he loves so dearly—no, not him, someone that the person to whom this mind belongs loves so dearly.

“...proud of you. Carry on, Obi-Wan. Live brightly.”

“Yes, Master.”

There's no silence more thorough than a heartbeat evening out into nothingness. There's no solitude more poignant than the company of a vanishing light. Saying goodbye is never an easy feat, even for a Jedi, and the anger and sorrow he felt—

“Anakin! Stop!”

Anakin jolts awake. A thick, ferric drop trails from his nose, warm on his lips. He opens his eyes and finds Obi-Wan beneath him, wide-eyed. His hands are pressing Obi-Wan’s shoulders into the mattress. Obi-Wan, who was teaching him to meditate, who brushed his mental shields in the process of instruction. Obi-Wan, his teacher. And if all of those images belonged to Obi-Wan…

He just broke into Obi-Wan’s mind.

Anakin scrambles back. The ink, no, the blood, now drips down his chin. It tickles. His teeth clatter as shivers rake up inside him. He clenches his jaws and stares at the ground. The sheets rustle.

“I think that’s quite enough for tonight.” Obi-Wan doesn’t sound angry, just somewhat breathless. Even concerned. Anakin doesn’t believe it. “Anakin, you’re bleeding. Do you need—”

“No.” Anakin staggers to his feet and backs away. Nothing worse than asking for more and becoming even more of a burden because everything he takes is a debt and he will pay for it. His Master always made sure he paid. “No. I’ll—I’ll clean up. I’m sorry. I’ll clean up.”

He stands there just long enough for Obi-Wan to respond - with anything, words, blows, anything. In the end, Obi-Wan only says, “Alright. Please, take care.” Anakin’s eyes flick up to find a grimace. He turns away and all but runs to the fresher, more dismayed than relieved.

Because if the punishment doesn’t come right away, that only means he’s going to have to wait.

#obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #raised-as-sith anakin #always-a-sith anakin #ex-sith anakin #so many tags for this au #star wars prequels #shatou writes #obikin #angst

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chokemeanakin · 3 years

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Give Me Love

Chapter Two

Wc: 1.5k

MASTERLIST

Since then, you had made a considerably stronger effort to get over your intimidation of Anakin. It was hard to accept that the man could turn you into such a sensitive little girl so easily. Your childhood shyness came back full-force around him. You could flirt and tease and play with any guy, but the minute he so much as looked in your direction, you froze. Clammed up. Lost all thoughts that might have been formed in your head, and stood there like a cadaver. Brain dead.

You hated the reasoning for it even more. You were demoted to a shell of a human being around him because he was pretty? How pathetic of you.

That wasn’t the only reason. Yes, you had always thought he was beautiful in ways you’d never seen before and know you will never see in anyone else. But that first night walking home with him cemented your feelings even more-- he was charming, and funny, and sweet, and ambitious-- and so so intelligent.

He had walked with his hands clasped behind his back like a prince, gloved arm in his flesh hand, guiding you leisurely through the streets as he waited for your shorter legs to keep up. He had smiled at your attempts at conversation, and inquired about your training as a field nurse at the Temple medbay. As if he really cared. He even pretended not to notice the goo-goo eyes you had shot him for a fleeting second, when you finally mustered the courage to look him in the face as you bid goodnight.

He was so handsome. Such a gentleman. So sweet and caring and brave. And strong and determined and on and on and on. He was everything. And that’s why your existence crumbled around him, because you felt like anything you did might annoy him, gross him out, make him detest you. Your self-esteem was never perfect, but around him it tanked. The thought of him dreading your presence scared you into motion, fleeing before he could realize how ugly, or annoying, or terrible you might be.

You knew it confused Ahsoka. She’d seen you play guys until their jaws were on the floor, whining and drooling after you like dogs. But as soon as her Master’s voice came over her com? You were a shaking, whimpering mess.

Her little plan had worked though. Soon, you were risking a quiet, “Hello, General Skywalker,” as she urged you to greet him over the com. You had twisted your hands together so hard the joints in your fingers popped, forehead breaking out with a slight sweat. But you had addressed him directly, even if it was over com. Baby steps, Ahsoka commended you.

And then, you had agreed to walk her to the starfighter hangars one afternoon-- a place he was notorious for hanging out, and one you had adamantly refused even stepping in the direction of. When you got there, he was, of course, under his yellow Eta-2 Actis-class interceptor, tweaking something with a wrench in one hand and a blowtorch in the other.

“Say hello,” Ahsoka had grit through her teeth, jabbing you in the ribs with her elbow. You winced and rubbed the spot, freezing in place as Anakin rolled out from under the starfighter and lifted his goggles onto his forehead. It pushed his bangs up, the curls sticking up cutely, making your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks for walking me, Y/n,” the Togruta padawan stressed your name pointedly.

“Uh… you’re welcome, Ahsoka.” You flinched as she raised her eyebrows, shifting your gaze to the man beside her. “Hi, Anakin.”

“Hey, Y/n,” his answering smile was blinding. Your veins filled with lava. Hearing your name formed from his sultry voice, dripping off his lips like honey, dancing across the room and tickling your ears with butterfly wings… it felt more like a blessing than a greeting.

It got easier with time. Baby steps was right. Soon, you weren’t turning on your heel as soon as you saw him walking down the same hallway, instead passing him quickly and returning his casual head-nod. If he caught sight of you in the mess hall, he’d wave and offer a small smile, a gesture which you returned. You had even managed to get that awful stutter under control, able to form words around him like you weren’t a newborn baby.

Ahsoka was proud.

And then. And then. And then.

He had snuck up behind you one day as you were cleaning up your station in the medbay. You had been switching gauze pads, removing stitches, and setting bones from clones and Jedi all day until the last patient came in, a clone bleeding from a slashed artery in his thigh where a bounty hunter had stuck him with a knife. He was lucky he got to you in time, or he surely would have bled to death. You managed to staunch the spurting flow of blood enough for him to be prepped and brought in for surgery, and then your shift was over. You were scrubbing the tiles clean of the results, scrubs absolutely drenched in blood, when Anakin knocked on the doorframe.

“Hard day?” he’d asked, eyes sweeping over the gory mess of the usually stark-white room.

“Quite typical, actually,” you grimaced, mind still reeling from the adrenaline. You guessed that’s why you had the confidence to actually speak to Anakin right now, as well as look at him without falling to your knees. Well-- you were already on your knees, so all you had to battle with was the flurry of butterfly wings in the pit of your stomach.

“Did he live?” Anakin walked a couple steps into the room, arms crossed, avoiding patches of dried blood on the tile.

“He’s in surgery, but he’ll pull through. Amazing, considering how much blood he lost.”

“I can see.”

You scrubbed away at the tile for a moment, strangely unbothered that he was seeing you covered in bodily fluids. You were most comfortable when you were in your element, and well, here you were-- quite literally in your element.

“Can… I help you with anything?” your heart lurched as you questioned him for the first time. Demanded his attention for the first time. Braced yourself for those heavy eyes to land on you and squeeze the breath from your lungs.

But if he was hurt… well… it was your job to fix it. Stupidly-strong crush or not.

“You can, actually.” He stood over you, looking down with a small tilt to the corner of his mouth. A flush rose to your cheeks as your eyes sifted over his body, looking for any wounds that might be visible.

“Nothing like that,” he shook his head, and then knelt beside you as he realized you weren’t going to stand. He reached into the soapy bucket beside you and grabbed a sponge, helping you scrub the floor clean of blood. “I was wondering… Obi-Wan and a few others from the Council have tickets to go to the Opera tomorrow eveing. They want me to go with them, but…”

You chanced a look at him, and he was wincing. “Well, let’s just say the Opera’s not a very entertaining place to be on a Friday night.”

You laughed lightly, nodding in agreement. The Opera was such a prized part of being on Coruscant, where all the wealthy and important people go to watch a swirling ball of light for hours. You never understood the novelty of it, but you found that everyone was afraid to call it out on its blatant dryness.

“So…?” you mused, dipping your sponge back in the bucket to get more water.

“So, I was thinking you could put me in for a checkup at that time just so that I’d have an excuse to bail.”

“You want me to give you a checkup?”

“Not actually,” he squeezed pink, soapy water into the bucket. “Just schedule one, so I can take the card and show it to them and then not have to go to the Opera. And to pay you back, I’ll take you to Dex’s for that breakfast-dinner you, Sabè, and Ahsoka do every week. Since you’ll be missing it to help me, and all.”

Your head rushed with blood, swimming as you took in his words. He wanted to take you to dinner?

No, he wanted you to help him. But… he didn’t have to pay you back. He wanted to do that. He was also waiting for your answer, so you got your wits together and accepted, eyes locked onto your scrubbing sponge as you replied,

“I think I can do that. As long as you show up here at exactly 8pm, cause that’s when my shift ends and there’s a 5 minute break as night shift takes over. I’ll let you in, and then we can sneak out the back.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Anakin flashed a dazzling smile at you, and for the first time, you were able to meet his shining eyes straight on and smile back.

Taglist:

@a-sterism @artiza-n @monamourani @anakinlove @haydens-moles @anakinswhore @ani-skyvvalker @sarahb1024 @anakinsbestgirl (why don’t they tag 😔)

Join the taglist!

#give me love #Anakin x fem reader #Anakin fic

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 4 years

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Courtship | [Obi-Wan Kenobi x M!Reader] | Star Wars

Notes: This is inspired by @xmalereader Mandalorian x Dark Fey! Reader story. I absolutely adore his stories and the concept, therefore I wanted to write something similar, only with Obi-Wan.

Although this is based off Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, I just mainly used the character designs, while deciding the culture of the Dark Fey myself. So it could be interpreted as an AU

Fandoms: Star Wars, The Clone Wars, Maleficent AU

Warnings: Heartbreak, Slight Fluff, Slight OOC, Obi-Wan Being Oblivious

Summary: Obi-Wan knows nothing about courtship and causes a huge misunderstanding.

Word Count: 7′455

Taglist: -

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Reader is a Dark Fey!

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka had been on an undercover rescue mission when the transport ship that should have taken them back to the Core Worlds malfunctioned.

That only worsened the mood because their mission target had died and Obi-Wan had gotten his lightsaber destroyed in the process.

Anakin, the great pilot he was, decided it was for the best to try and land on the nearest planet and get help.

But none of them had expected that the small multicolored ball they had landed on only housed a few inhabitants - most of which had never seen a spaceship, or even a droid.

Thankfully they found one of the more progressive tribes.

They had a person who spoke Basic, and fortunately, C-3PO was with them for the rescue mission, so they had another way to communicate. Although, the language of the natives was only partly in his database.

The alien race who lived on the small planet was a species they had never seen before. They were all winged, with feathers of different colors and lengths, and two large horns that were different for each individual.

They called themselves Dark Fey, however the name didn't seem accurate. At least not for him. Dark wasn't a word Obi-Wan would have associated with them.

Especially not with the man who had taken them in.

Y/N was the son of the tribe chief of the village, and his wings reminded the Jedi of a butterfly in one of the Jedi gardens. They were mainly orange, with a speck of white and black and some small blue dots.

His father's wings were even more colorful, but Obi-Wan preferred the ones of the son because they were less shrill.

And like the color of his wings, Y/N was kinder than his father. He wanted to help them find a way back to Coruscant.

"Father, we need to help them," argued the h/c-haired man, his eyes glistening with annoyance when his stubborn parent crossed his arms and flipped his wings.

The three Jedi were currently in one of the giant tree trunks, in the forest where the Fey resided, in a room as big as the Jedi Archives. It seemed to be the tribe's meeting hall.

Y/N's father Aster sat on a throne made out of small tree branches, his red and orange wings spread wide behind his back.

"Don't act like that, please," groaned Y/N, and Anakin and Obi-Wan only watched with furrowed brows, not understanding what kind of conversation was going on between the two men.

C-3PO informed them about the dispute between the son and the father, and they realized that the tribe chief did not want them here.

Ahsoka happily munched on the fruits that one of the younger Fey had brought, oblivious or more likely ignorant of the tense atmosphere in the hall.

Although the Fey appeared not to welcome them, they still provided them with some hospitality. The Togruta flashed a toothy grin at one of the kids, and they giggled.

"You know exactly why I don't want to help them!"

Y/N's father looked at the three Jedi with a stern expression, and the only person in the room who wanted to support them huffed in anger.

"We'll be careful!"

The tension suddenly rose, and Obi-Wan assumed it was because the younger's wings now rose too, his feathers ruffled.

"May I say something?" he asked carefully, all eyes then turned to him.

The five women next to Aster leaned forward to listen, they were probably the elders of the tribe.

Y/N turned to him, his eyes held a hint of displeasure, and Obi-Wan gulped, now asking himself if he had just made a big mistake.

"Speak, human," ordered the tribe chief, the Fey who spoke Basic translated, and he bowed slightly, then made eye contact with Y/N's father.

"We are only looking for a spaceship that can take us off-planet. We don't want to burden you with our presence and neither wish to harm you, we can also camp outside your land if you wish us to."

The pupils of Aster shrank considerably, the air turned cold, and Ahsoka stopped eating. Anakin gave him a worried glance, and the Jedi realized that he had said or done something wrong.

He lowered his gaze, and Anakin mimicked his posture, his hand gripping his lightsaber inside his sleeve tighter.

Silence reigned over them, and Obi-Wan tried to catch a glimpse of the tribe chief, but then Y/N stepped before him, obstructing his view.

"Father...", he began, but Aster interrupted him, standing up from his throne, wings now spreading even further, showing his hostility.

"You became a burden when you stepped foot on this planet!", he snarled and descended the stairway made out of the giant tree.

His son held his ground and ruffled his feathers. A single feather touched Obi-Wan's cheek, and he flinched from the softness.

He looked upwards, and the man before them looked like an unmovable stone, an unbeatable protector, who had descended from heaven to help them.

"They did not know, Father! And they had no choice either!"

Y/N's voice now sounded as agitated as his father's, and the situation was about to escalate - although the Jedi did not know into what - when a calm voice suddenly spoke:

"Believe in your son, Aster."

Everyone in the hall turned toward the gigantic entrance where a single Dark Fey had landed.

It was a woman with snow-white wings and silky hair that reached her hips. The present Fey bowed, and the Jedi knew that the newcomer was a respected figure within the tribe.

From the way Y/N smiled at her and how the woman opened her arms wide, she probably was related to him, although their features showed no real resemblances, besides maybe the eyebrows. Y/N hugged her without hesitation.

"You're back," stated Aster, and his wings slightly relaxed.

The woman smiled and then turned to Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka.

"I apologize that I could not greet you when you arrived here. I am Neela, and you're names are?" she spoke in Basic, and all three of them were surprised.

Although it probably shouldn't shock them that much, when they first met Y/N, he also spoke the language.

The translator seemed to have taught it to the ones who wanted to learn it.

Anakin introduced himself first, a brilliant smile on his lips. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes in his mind. His former padawan had probably realized that Neela seemed to be the only one who could tame the tribe chief to some extent.

Ahsoka greeted the woman with a respectful bow, and Obi-Wan did the same when he said his name.

He stole a glance towards Y/N who's lips now showed a triumphant grin. The man noticed his stare and winked at him. His expression was something along the lines of 'Don't worry, we got this'.

It seemed like the arrival of the white-haired woman turned the tides in their favor.

"I heard you are stranded. Your arrival here is of great significance for us. My husband knows that, and his caution is not unreasonable. We do not wish to get involved with the galactic conflicts that are waging right now, I hope you understand."

So, she's Aster's wife... But Y/N truly doesn't resemble her.

Obi-Wan was curious about the woman. She knew more about the galaxy than the rest of the Dark Fey, or so it seemed.

He nodded, and Anakin replied:

"We do. None of us wants to involve you in the war, we're just trying to return home. Our ship is badly damaged, therefore we wanted to find someone who can take us with them."

While Neela asked about their transmitters, Aster's face darkened, the further the conversation continued, but he did not interrupt his wife.

Ahsoka's eyes glistened with respect, and Obi-Wan could imagine what she was thinking. Aster may be the tribe chief, but Neela held the reins in their relationship, which influenced the whole tribe and important decisions.

Anakin then informed them of the last SOS-signal they had sent before they breached the atmosphere of the planet.

"Someone is probably already looking for us," added Obi-Wan, and Aster's eyes turned into slits.

"They will come and force us to leave!" he growled, more towards his wife than the Jedi.

Neela turned around to face her husband, and he visibly flinched. The woman spread her white wings, and her wingspan was even wider than her husband's and Y/N's. Her aura was way more intimidating than the tribe chief’s one.

"They won't stay, I will make sure of that."

She spoke in their native language, but C-3PO translated it, although reluctantly, and the underlying threat worried Obi-Wan.

If no one arrives will they try to kill us?

But Aster relaxed, and he stepped towards his wife, their foreheads touched, and the tribe chief sighed.

Neela's wings lowered, and she then turned around again, her hand on her husband's back.

"You are welcome to stay until your friends arrive. We will make sure that they will find you."

Their action before not only was a display of intimacy but also an opportunity for a silent conversation, where they had decided if they would help the Jedi or not.

Relief washed over Obi-Wan, and Anakin's shoulders relaxed.

As if on cue ran the Fey children from the one corner of the hall towards Ahsoka, and they laughed and fluttered their wings excitedly. They spoke a few words in broken Basic and twirled around her.

The Togruta blinked in surprise and then joined their happy laughs and followed them to their friends.

Obi-Wan and his former padawan cautiously stood up. Anakin only watched when the small bird-like kids kidnapped the Togruta, his expression showing a hint of worry.

"She will be fine," said a calm voice, and the Jedi knights’ heads turned towards Y/N, who had walked closer.

"I'm worried she'll do something offensive," confessed Anakin, and the man laughed loudly.

His head tilted back, showing a necklace with a long blue feather and his wings flapped wildly.

"Not to be mean, but you already offended us greatly, another misstep won't matter."

The Fey continued to laugh when he saw their upset expressions.

"Don't fret it. it's already a miracle that your droid knows parts of our language. How would you know about our culture."

Neela joined their talk. Her eyes focused on Anakin.

"May I talk to you?"

He shared a look with Obi-Wan and then shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure," he responded, and they distanced themselves, Obi-Wan now being left alone with the chief's son.

"Why..." he began, unsure whether he should ask or not.

"She can feel he's special."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Feel?"

Y/N turned his in Neela's direction.

"Mother is like you. She was chosen too."

Obi-Wan could guess what Y/N meant, and it honestly didn't surprise him as much as it probably should have. The moment Neela had stepped into the hall, the force had changed around them.

"What about you?" he asked curiously.

Y/N's expression turned somewhat solemn.

"No, I- I wasn't chosen. It's not possible."

The Fey's hand grabbed his necklace, and his wings quivered.

Obi-Wan realized he had touched a sore spot and decided not to pry further.

"Come with me", said Y/N after a short while, and his smile returned to his lips.

"I'll show you where you guys can stay."

The Jedi followed him out of the hall, after glancing back one last time to see Anakin and Ahsoka standing surrounded by Fey.

Y/N lead him across the branches of the giant tree, which seemed to be the main living area of the tribe.

Twice, they used a hoist to travel higher up, the Fey explaining that they had been built for their youngest who couldn't fly yet.

The Jedi could stay in a room, hollowed out of the main branch. The room was sparsely decorated with wooden furniture, and instead of beds, there were three hammocks made out of thick green fabric that felt considerably softer than it looked.

Obi-Wan put his small backpack he had taken from the ship on the table and then turned towards Y/N.

"Thank you for everything."

He smiled at the Fey, and the man's expression twitched.

"It's fine", he responded curtly, and before Obi-Wan could ask if something was wrong, he had already passed through the leaf curtain that gave the room some privacy and jumped off the branch.

Obi-Wan stayed behind with a somewhat worried expression. He remembered what the man had said before. “You already offended us greatly.”

Hopefully they weren’t digging their own graves.

They stayed on the small planet, in the giant forest for about a month, and in the beginning, they held their respectable distance from the Dark Fey.

They got invited to meals and attended them, but only Y/N, Neela, and the translator, who turned out to be a teacher and one of the only Fey who had left the planet before, really talked to them.

If the children were excluded.

They had a great time with Ahsoka, and she played with them and even found some friends in her age group, who were studying under Danosh, the translator. Thanks to him, most of the children could speak a few words in Basic, allowing Ahsoka to communicate with them.

Aster had instructed the tribe members to treat them with respect and give them everything they needed, but his hospitality ended there.

He did not include them in any kind of activities the tribe performed besides the meals.

The Dark Fey were a close-knitted species, and the tribe of Y/N did almost everything together. They ate together, hunted together, played together, and even slept together.

They seemed very suspicious of strangers - at least the adults - and they mostly kept to themselves, only talking to the Jedi if necessary.

While Ahsoka got mostly occupied with the children, Anakin's attention got caught by Neela, with whom he even traveled to one of the Fey's sacred places for the Chosen.

Obi-Wan got mostly accompanied by Y/N, but he did not mind that at all.

He enjoyed the other's presence, and his open-hearted character and he talked with the man about all kinds of things.

He told him stories about the Jedi, the beauty of the Jedi gardens on Coruscant, the vast ice tundras of Ilum, and the force.

On the other hand, Y/N taught him about the Fey culture, the significance of one's first flight, the meaning of life according to the elders.

He told Obi-Wan the story of the Batellia flower, that would soon bloom at a day the tribe celebrated.

"The flower blooms for a very short time and then it dies, its roots forming a bond with another plant."

Obi-Wan had asked the Fey why they celebrated that day then.

"Batellia portrays the honest truth of our lives. We live, we die and then we join the Ancestors and the Phoenix Mother."

Y/N also told the Jedi about the worst punishment a Fey could receive - losing one's wings, and the importance of death in their culture.

But one thing he did not talk about because he thought Obi-Wan knew.

For him, it was obvious; Something even the wingless humans should know about, but well...

Maybe the Jedi were just too dumb.

"What's that?" asked Anakin, pointing at the shimmering blue stone on Obi-Wan's nightstand while drying his hair.

He looked at the stone he was pointing at.

"It's a present from Y/N. It's a "Soulstone" according to him. It glows in the dark."

He smiled faintly, remembering when Y/N gave it to him.

It's already been three weeks since they had stranded on the small planet, and the Fey had found them. And he and the chief’’s son had formed a close bond.

They had traveled twice to their spaceship, Obi-Wan showing it to him and explaining the mechanisms while Y/N watched from a safe distance, seemingly too scared to approach the metal beast.

Y/N also accompanied him to highest tree they had, trying to send another SOS signal. He caught him, when he almost slipped and Obi-Wan clung to him like dear life, because they were so high up.

The Fey had only laughed, his eyes glimmering with something Obi-Wan couldn’t quite place.

His former padawan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"And the one next to it? Also a present?"

"All of them are presents, Anakin", said Ahsoka, who had suddenly appeared and now strut to her backpack, a new load of her favorite fruits in her arms.

"What about me? I want a present from Y/N too."

The Togruta eyed him strangely, then muttered something to herself and grinned.

"They are just things he had found on his regular trips to the river," Obi-Wan said, trying to calm Anakin.

Although he also questioned why he seemingly was the only one who regularly received gifts from Y/N.

On the other hand, he felt a tingling sensation in his chest, somewhat proud that the Fey apparently viewed him as special.

"Did Neela not give you a present?"

Anakin shook his head but then replied: "I don't really care, the things I've learned on our trips to their temples are more than enough. Did you know that the Chosen use the power of their emotions to strengthen their force abilities? They aren't unleashing them like the Sith, apparently, but I don't really understand the difference yet. Neela will tell me more tomorrow. She's busy with the preparations of today's feast."

Anakin's voice was full of excitement while he talked, and Obi-Wan got reminded of his early padawan days when the boy had commented on every little thing with amazement.

"What's different this time?" he asked, Ahsoka watching the both of them silently, her fruits now stored in her backpack for tomorrow when she would go on a trip with one of the Fey at her age.

"They will perform dances after eating. It's going to be quite a spectacle, according to Neela. She wanted us to stay and witness it."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brows, sitting up from his lying position in his hammock.

"Is that really such a good idea? Aster still doesn't seem too keen on having us around."

Anakin shook his head and pointed at him.

"No, we must come. Especially you, the chief actually requested it."

The Jedi's eyes widened.

Aster personally demanded that he attended? Why?

Obi-Wan wasn't delighted to see the dances after hearing that, and he went to the daily feast with a queasy gut feeling.

The meal went like normal.

The Fey sat in groups in the big hall, various bowls with different dishes on the ground, some of them vegetarian, some with fish, others with meat.

The ages were mixed, and Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Anakin got accompanied by several small Fey who had played with the Togruta before.

Normally, Y/N and Neela would be in their circle too, but this evening they were nowhere to be seen.

"Probably still preparing", said Ahsoka, and Anakin nodded with a full mouth.

They both anticipated the dances, while he was the only one who somehow couldn't.

He just worried why Aster would want him to be there.

Not having Y/N around made it worse. The man had acted as a calming presence in the last few weeks, and Obi-Wan had begun to like him a lot.

The Fey was thirsty for knowledge, kind, and also understanding. He liked to listen and Obi-Wan always felt some sort of proudness, when he could guess Y/N’s thoughts or feelings correctly from the way his wings and feathers moved.

The Fey seemed to shine like a light, he was very popular with the others of his species, especially the female ones, and it was obvious that he would be the next chief.

Although, he wasn't Neela's son.

His mother, Aster's first wife, had died a long time ago, and his father had remarried. Neela gave birth to two other sons, but they both did not want to follow in their father's footsteps.

Y/N didn't dislike his father for remarrying, he loved Neela like his own mother, and she loved him like he was her own son.

Obi-Wan admired their strong bonds and Y/N's personality.

He was comfortable around the other man, so comfortable that he had confessed the secret feelings he had harbored for Satine Kryze.

Y/N had listened silently and then patted his shoulder to comfort him. He didn't say a word of judgment, silence was the only thing they shared at that moment, but Obi-Wan felt so much better after telling him.

Everything went well, and although they had been here for three weeks and he knew that Cody and the High Council were probably dying from worry, he felt relaxed and content.

When he swayed in his hammock in the evening, the stars visible through the carved out window at the ceiling, his hand holding the “Phoenix’s heart” - another stone Y/N had brought him that was always warm - he even dared to think that he wouldn't mind staying with the tribe forever.

But now...

Now the peacefulness seemed to be in danger.

Obi-Wan barely ate anything, and when Aster finally stood up, the Jedi couldn't stop his whole body from tensing up.

"Let us go to the Ancestors Realm!" the tribe chief shouted, and the present Fey joined in a cry of joy.

"Come on!" squeaked one of the children and grabbed Anakin's arm.

Another clung to Obi-Wan, and the young Fey pulled the three Jedi towards the hall entrance with surprising strength.

The Ancestors Realm was a place at the crown of the giant tree. They had to use nine hoists so get up there and when they arrived, the air was considerably thinner.

It was a flat plateau out of red lichen, the tufts at the border of the round area were glowing, and it did look like from another realm. In the middle of the plateau burned a bright fire, illuminating the faces of the arriving people.

The Fey sat at the edges, Ahsoka went to the new friends she had made, and Obi-Wan and Anakin joined Aster and Neela, the latter had shown up out of nowhere.

The tribe chief greeted them with a smile, which surprised both of them, and he motioned for Obi-Wan to sit next to him. He hesitated for a second, but when the chief looked at him with true friendliness in his eyes he gave in.

The Jedi carefully sat next to Aster, avoiding the man's wings, which he had leisurely spread behind him, and then crossed his legs.

"Are you ready?" asked the leader, and Obi-Wan smiled weakly.

"Yes...?" his answer sounded more like a question, and the man next to him laughed.

"You'll like it, I'm sure."

He could only nod, a big lump in his throat.

He knew that Aster was watching him intently from the side, but he had no clue why.

But before he could ponder over it, one of the elder Fey began to hum, and the rest of the Fey immediately joined.

It was a tribal melody, and it resounded deep in Obi-Wan's chest. Aster started clapping in a rhythm, and the male Fey followed his lead, while Neela clapped another beat, and the women did the same.

The humming was accompanied by the beating of a drum and a sudden cry caused the female Fey to shout.

It was strange for the Jedi, but all three of them were mesmerized by the following scene.

The shouts were a signal for the dancers, and seemingly out of nowhere appeared the few missing Fey. Among them was also Y/N, who Obi-Wan could only recognize because of his wings.

The dancers were a group of males who wore masks that covered their entire faces, their bodies decorated with glowing paint.

They flew a circle above the sitting Fey, and their wings spread, causing loose feathers to descend.

Obi-Wan caught one, and it only took him a glance to know to whom it belonged.

Aster flashed a grin at him and motioned him to clap too.

He put the feather carefully in his robe, worried that he damaged it, and then joined the clapping, feeling excited from the display of the dancers.

They twisted and turned with surprising speed and elegance, and when they landed, the actual dance began, and the sound of various music instruments echoed in the tree crown.

The young men all randomly picked a person in the crowd and started to perform in front of them.

Their wings were the main attraction of the dance. They spread them and flapped, showing off their brilliant colors.

Obi-Wan watched in amazement, not realizing that a certain person was staring at him intently.

A light shove from Aster startled him, and he noticed the person who had gotten closer to him.

Y/N's eyes glistened from behind the mask, and the glowing blue body paint gave him the appearance of an ethereal being.

He twirled and then hid his lower face with his left wing. His e/c eyes pulling Obi-Wan's attention towards Y/N like magic. The Jedi felt like he was in a trance.

The Fey looked beautiful, but at the same time powerful, his sturdy muscles visible thanks to the fire.

A flame began to burn in his heart and it reminded him of something, however, he couldn’t figure out what.

The feathers shook when the music quickened, and the Fey jumped from one foot to the other, his heels never touching the ground.

The Jedi followed the man's every move, too enthralled to notice how Aster and Neela were staring at him with pleased smiles.

Anakin looked at them with a wondering expression, not knowing what they were thinking.

Obi-Wan's mind got filled with a thousand thoughts. His heartbeat had quickened, and the sudden wish of taking a holographic photo of Y/N dancing surged through his veins.

He didn't expect the man to be able to move like this, like an elegant warrior.

It was a traditional dance, the other men of the group performed the same routine, but Y/N's was somehow special.

It felt sensual and, at the same time, like a plead.

The man's wings stretched towards Obi-Wan. Had he leaned a little forward, his nose could have touched a feather.

The music turned to a crescendo, and he knew the dance would be over soon, already a little disappointed.

With a sudden move back, Y/N spread his arms, that had also reached out for the Jedi, to the side and his wings darted back and froze in a position similar to the Jedi order's symbol.

The ending was improvised by him, the wings of the other dancers had stopped in a different pose. Obi-Wan’s heart jumped and he let out a shaky breath.

The Fey for whom the other dancers had danced began to stand up and clap and howl wildly, their ardor audible in their voices, and Anakin and Obi-Wan joined in.

The dancers walked up to the audience members they had chosen and they pressed their foreheads together. Obi-Wan watched their display of affection with a big smile. He loved the kindness the Fey held for each other.

The tribe leader couple also stood up, he following their lead, when Aster suddenly pulled him closer with an arm around his neck, and the tribe chief asked him:

"Did you like it?"

And Obi-Wan could only exclaim with an excited tone:

"Yes! It was wonderful!"

Y/N's father showed a very pleased expression and then let go of him.

The Jedi wondered for a moment if that was the only thing he wanted to know, but his attention shifted when a glowing figure appeared in his peripheral vision.

"Obi-Wan" uttered Y/N, while taking his mask off, his breathing was slightly heavy.

"Y/N, you were amazing! The dance displayed so many emotions, I loved it!"

The Fey stopped short in his track, and then his lips formed a breathtaking smile, which reminded him of the sunrise in the morning.

"Thank you!"

Obi-Wan's head got suddenly grabbed by the other man, and their foreheads touched in a swift motion.

Y/N's skin felt hot from the dancing, and the Fey's breathing shook his shoulders, but Obi-Wan was solely focusing on the man's closed eyes.

Their position felt almost too intimate, his heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears, but he did not move back, ignoring the sudden flutter in his chest, telling himself this was courtesy and showing his respect for Y/N.

He expected the other to pull his head back, but the Fey did not move, until his father patted his shoulder and laughingly boomed:

"That's enough, son. You'll have plenty of time for that later."

Y/N finally pulled back, although not stepping far away, and he turned to his father, shooting him a glare. Obi-Wan stood somewhat dazed, blinking wildly, and wondering what Aster meant with later.

"I'm proud of you, Y/N!" said Neela, and she hugged the man.

The Jedi smiled at the display of their feelings, and he distanced himself to give them some space and to calm his beating heart.

Get it together. Your heart is acting as if you’re in love.

He turned to Anakin, who talked to Ahsoka, both their expressions still showing amazement.

"That was soo cool!" squealed the Togruta, and his former padawan agreed.

"I now feel the desire to have wings too," added Obi-Wan to the conversation, and they turned around to greet him.

Ahsoka's eyebrows shot up, and she grinned somewhat disbelievingly.

"So, you did it," she said, a matter of factly.

"I did what?" he asked, not understanding what she meant.

She gestured towards his face, and he tilted his head in confusion.

"You got paint on your forehead." Anakin said while watching his padawan with questioning eyes, but the Togruta didn't say what she was hinting at.

And he didn't find out until the end of the evening.

After he had talked to the two other Jedi, Y/N had shown up again and told him that he had to attend a family meeting.

He was apologetic, his expression showing clear annoyance and Obi-Wan felt bad for the Fey, although it wasn't such a big deal for him.

They could talk about his performance tomorrow.

So they said goodnight to each other, Y/N once again pressing his forehead to Obi-Wan's, who let it go without a word.

Aster and Neela also left.

They only waved at them, the tribe chief winking at Obi-Wan, leaving the Jedi once again puzzled about why the man had changed his behavior so suddenly.

Although the Fey poured out some delicious alcohol, the three Jedi decided to go back to their room. They were surprisingly tired from seeing the performance.

When Obi-Wan had already laid down in his hammock, Ahsoka addressed him:

"Congratulations, Master."

He lifted his head to peek over the hammock's edge.

"Congrats for what?"

"You and Y/N."

He didn't understand a word.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly worried.

"Don't you know?" she said, now sitting up inside her hammock.

He only blinked. Ahsoka's expression turned baffled.

"The performance today got danced by courting Fey."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, then his eyes widened.

"Are you saying... Y-Y/N..?", he finally squeezed through his lips, realisation slowly dawning on him.

She mirrored his shocked expression.

"You didn't know?! But you accepted!"

He was panicking now.

"Accepted what and when?!"

Anakin walked into the room, unaware of the sudden revelation.

"What's going o-"

"The forehead touch!"

Obi-Wan sank back into his hammock, his heartbeat thundering in his ear. He had gotten a confession and he didn’t even realize.

"Oh, what have I done?"

The next morning, Obi-Wan felt no motivation to stand up.

He wasn't ready to clear up the misunderstanding that had happened yesterday.

He hadn't known that the dance was about courtship, nor that the forehead was something only romantically involved Fey would do.

He just thought it was something intimate that friends, partners, and family did. The other dancers had done it too, but now he knew the real reason.

That’s why not all of them touched foreheads, they got rejected!

But apparently, he was wrong.

And now he had to take the consequences.

"Come on, old man. Get up", said Anakin with a laugh, and he made his former master's hammock sway.

"Why can't I just die right now of old age?" he sighed, feeling dreadful about what was about to come.

Anakin snorted, and he finally sat up.

He had to talk to Y/N before the whole thing escalated.

But oooh, it already had.

"How did you not realize?!" shouted Y/N.

The Fey was shaking Obi-Wan by the shoulder.

"How should’ve I known?!" he shot back, now also agitated, after the other had told him his parents practically considered them being already married.

"I brought you all these presents!"

"Friends do that from where I come from!"

"You kept my feather!"

"I thought it would be a great memento!"

"I let you touch my wings!!"

"How should I know that's considered to be something intimate?!"

Their voices got louder and louder, and their argument caught the attention of some unwanted spectators.

A group of young Fey had begun to follow their conversation behind some branches, but Obi-Wan didn’t acknowledge them, too angry and panicked at the moment.

Y/N's wings had begun to flip in obvious anger, while Obi-Wan furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"I literally danced for you at the courtship ceremony!"

Obi-Wan gnashed his teeth in frustration.

"How was I supposed to know it was about that?! Anakin only told me it was a dance performance!!"

"But you-you said I danced amazing and you loved it!”

The Jedi didn’t respond to that, only showing a guilty expression.

The Fey bit his lips when he finally realized how grave their misunderstanding was.

"I didn't know...", muttered Obi-Wan, feeling helpless because he knew he had hurt the other.

"Forget it," growled Y/N, then he turned in a swift motion and darted from the tree branch. His wings flapped with such a force that a few feathers fell.

The Jedi only watched how they slowly descended, and they seemed to represent his heart.

It sunk, and a sudden pain in his chest caused him to clench his jaw.

How should I have known?

He told himself that he had had no idea, but deep in his chest whispered a voice that he did. Y/N’s feelings were obvious.

Maybe he just didn’t want to acknowledge them, knowing that nothing could come out of their relationship.

Even if you do like me, Y/N, we can’t be together.

A few days passed, and the atmosphere had turned awkward.

Aster's sudden goodwill had as quickly disappeared as it had come.

After the chief had learned of the misunderstanding, he had almost attacked Obi-Wan. Neela held him back successfully though.

Anakin felt guilty for being partly at fault, and Ahsoka also apologized for not telling him what she had known about the courtship rules.

They spent their days waiting for any kind of sign of the Republic, and they became restless.

Obi-Wan felt genuinely guilty for misleading Y/N, and he grieved for their friendship, which seemed like it had already ended.

The Fey hadn't shown himself to any of the Jedi, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but worry because neither Neela nor Aster had seen their son after he and the Jedi had argued.

Then, one day, a Fey appeared in the great hall, informing Aster of the gigantic triangle that had appeared in the sky and the small flying objects that had landed somewhere close to the forest's border.

Anakin shouted triumphantly, and Obi-Wan felt relief wash over him.

But at the same time, he felt a pang in his chest.

He didn't want to leave, not before he cleared the bad blood between him and Y/N.

But Cody and Captain Rex found a scout of the tribe pretty soon, and they finally reunited only a week after the courtship ceremony.

"Good to see you alive and well, general," said Cody, and Obi-Wan smiled weakly at him.

"Good to see you too, commander."

The clones got accompanied by Plo Koon, and Ahsoka was delighted to see the Jedi master again.

While Anakin and his padawan were happy about their rescue, Obi-Wan couldn't stop himself from wishing they had come later. Now he wouldn’t get another chance to talk with Y/N.

He collected his belongings and hesitated when it came to Y/N's presents. The various crystals and shells on his nightstand.

He contemplated whether to take them with him or not, but the thought of leaving them behind hurt him and he decided to bring them home.

Although they had parted with sour feelings, he still appreciated the memories he had made with Y/N. And his heart honestly didn’t want to forget anything, not even the forehead, which apparently symbolized a kiss.

They Fey did not publicly kiss, one of the things they didn’t display to others, Ahsoka had told him.

When he heard about that, he couldn’t stop his brain from forming all kinds of thoughts and his ears had turned pink.

He walked up to me and kissed me, figuratively!

The misunderstanding was really a disaster.

He now also knew why the other Fey had treated him with more respect even though Aster seemed to hate him again.

It was because he was the object of the future tribe leader’s affections - although he had rejected him.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and left the room, Y/N’s presents stored in his backpack.

He bid farewell to Danosh and the other Fey who had treated him nicely and then joined Anakin and Ahsoka who waited with Cody, Captain Rex and some other clones next to Aster and Neela.

The tribe leader couple accompanied them to the ground and their canon gun ships.

Obi-Wan watched the ships from the border of the gigantic forest and his chest tightened.

Y/N...

He bit his lip, his heart now clenching from the idea of leaving and never coming back.

They were half way there, when Aster and Neela stopped walking.

“We’re not going any further”, explained the white-haired woman and Anakin sighed. He said goodbye first. The chief only nodded at him, but Neela gave him a long hug and whispered something into his ear, while caressing his hair.

Obi-Wan could see that the woman somewhat appeared to be like a mother-figure for Anakin. He felt the pain of saying goodbye in Anakin’s force presence.

Ahsoka also gave Neela a hug and she bowed at Aster who surprisingly patted her shoulder and said:

“Stay sharp, little one.”

The Togruta beamed and then it was Obi-Wan’s turn. He looked at the chief and behind the animosity in his eyes, he could see genuine regret.

He didn’t know what to say and just awkwardly stood there, when Aster coughed and grumbled:

“You would’ve been a splendid son-in-law.”

The Jedi blinked and Anakin couldn’t stop a snort, laughing silently at the blush that swept across his former master’s cheeks.

“Uh- thank you.”

“Obi-Wan,” said Neela and she opened her arms wide. He willingly walked into her embrace and she also caressed his hair, while hiding his embarrassment with her wings.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. If he couldn’t tell it Y/N personally, he would tell his mother.

“It’s alright. Y/N is a little hasty sometimes, especially when it comes to his feelings. I’m not trying to say he rushed into the idea of liking you...”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks heated up again, not knowing how to react when a woman, who was the mother of the man who liked him, openly talked about her son’s and his relationship.

“He’s genuine, but stubborn. He was born here and never set foot on another planet. You swept him off his feet and he got too excited, not registering that our manners and traditions are unknown to you.”

He nodded into her shoulders and she let him go to look into his face. Her blue eyes glimmered with kindness.

“I’m glad you were his first love.”

He blinked and her sentence hit him right in the gut. Oh, wow, he really hurt the man, huh.

She traced the line his knitted eyebrows made and smiled.

“It’s not your fault, Obi-Wan.”

He wanted to reply something but he had a lump in his throat and could only nod.

She let go of him and he stepped back, his expression showing how sad he was about their departure.

“Goodbye.”

The Jedi and clones turned and began to walk away. Every step physically hurt Obi-Wan and he breathed out shakily, face looking down to not see Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s possibly judging expressions.

Suddenly, a shadow sped across the plain and before he could look up, a person landed right before his feet, causing him to make a step back.

He tilted his head, startled, his eyes meeting e/c ones. Time seemed to stop.

"Obi-Wan," breathed Y/N and the Jedi's heart started to pound faster.

"You came," he hesitantly said, his tone revealed his relief.

"Yeah... I have to tell you something."

Obi-Wan turned his head to Anakin and the others, they feigned ignorance and acted as if they weren't listening closely to their conversation, although they were.

"O-Okay, but I want to tell you something t-"

"I fancy you."

Hearing that sentence directed at him caught Obi-Wan off guard.

Not that he never had been confronted by similar words, but it had never been in such a blunt fashion. And also not from a person he secretly liked too. Satine had been a different case.

A blush crept up his neck, cheeks and ears and he swallowed hard.

He had expected Y/N to tell him an apology or a goodbye, but not a love confession.

"I'm sorry. I projected my culture onto you and didn't consider your feelings."

Obi-Wan was flustered and he checked his surroundings again, the clones and the two Jedi now blatantly listening without even trying to hide their interest.

"I-I..." he began, not knowing what to say.

He knew he had to reject the Fey but his fluttering heart absolutely didn't want him to.

"I'm a Jedi, Y/N," he eventually said, his tone sounding pained, and Obi-Wan expected the other man's face to sadden, after all, he did tell him what that meant when it came to attachments, but the Fey's smile stayed on his lips.

"I know. I just wanted to tell you properly."

The smile was the same radiating one he had flashed him after the courtship dance.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, contemplated for a second and then, without hesitation, he took a step forward and grabbed Y/N's face to bring their heads together.

Their foreheads touched and the man's eyes widened.

Obi-Wan locked his gaze with his and the Fey sighed, now pressing his head closer and putting his hand on both side’s of his neck..

"You're making this very hard," he muttered accusingly, while tracing Obi-Wan’s carotid artery.

The Jedi laughed weakly, the pain in his chest swelling.

"I know, I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes and breathed in, the smell of damp soil, fruits and leather filled his nose and Obi-Wan tried to engrave the scent in his mind.

"At one point we'll have to stop," whispered Y/N and he grumbled.

"I'm just soaking you in", he replied, eyes still closed.

I don’t want to let go.

He heard the Fey breath out slowly.

Then the man moved away.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes in protest, then his hand got grabbed, and Y/N kissed him.

The Jedi's eyes widened and he remembered that Anakin, Ahsoka and the clones were watching, but his reason got thrown out of the window by his heart and he returned the kiss.

It was a short and bittersweet one. Just like their relationship.

Like the Batellia flower, their love finished before it could even properly bloom.

But Obi-Wan did not look back at these four weeks with regret.

After he had returned to Coruscant and continued fighting in the war, he would often smile at random times, his hands buried in his robes, where he caressed a soft feather.

And he could be damn sure that on a small planet in the Outer Rims, a Fey would trace the faint glow of a blue kyber crystal, he always had with him around his neck.

And who knows, maybe they’ll meet again.

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starryluce · 3 years

Text

meditation and forbidden emotions

Padawan! Obi-wan Kenobi x Padawan! reader

rated- A (anyone)

words- 556 (short and sweet)

warnings- none

“Still meditating?” Obi-Wan asked as he spotted you sitting on the balcony, legs crisscrossed. You had been meditating for hours, trying to clear your mind of forbidden emotions, however, no matter what you did the emotions didn't seem to go away. Though it never had. The amount of time over the years you spent meditating but still having the forbidden emotion.

Sighing loudly, you nodded, slowly opening your eyes. Obi-Wan Kenobi, your best friends, and fellow Padawan made his way towards you. Obi-Wan rested his soft hands on your shoulders, massaging them gently as he brought his lips to your ear. His hot breath brushed against your cheek as he spoke. “What’s bothering you, darling?” Obi-Wan asked curiously, a minute went by and Obi realized you weren't going to respond. “Maybe we could take a break, you know go to Naboo for a day or two,” Obi-Wan suggested, taking a seat next to you. “Obi I... I don't think that will help,” Obi-Wan frowned in response, the boy was oblivious to a lot of things but he knew you were upset with him.

“What did I do?” he asked whispering

“Obi, you didn't do a thing,”

He frowned, “Well, I must have done something to upset you. And I’m sorry for whatever it is. I promise ill make it up to yo-” Obi-Wan began before you cut him off.

“I’m in love with you,”

Obi-Wan stared at you in shock. A whole bunch of thoughts flooded his mind but he couldn't seem to put any of them into words. You were in love with him, the girl of his dreams was in love with him. You y/n l/n, the woman he's had a crush on since you both were youngling was in love with him.

“I’m so sorry,” your voice quavered as you whispered the words, tears rushing down your face, standing up to leave the balcony. Obi-Wan stepped out of his trance at the sound of your quavering voice. He quickly grabs your arm gently, moving to stand up as he does. You turn around at Obi’s movement, his face close to yours. He brushes his thumb over your tears, pushing his head against yours he leans in to kiss you. His lips brushed yours softly, like butterflies wings, the kiss lasted just long enough so he could feel your breath on his. Obi-moved his back slightly, his forehead still rested on yours. In an instance, you smashed your lips against him, this time the kiss was rougher. Your mouth opened, tongue pushing past his clenched teeth to the moist space within. The bristles of his beard scratched against your soft cheeks as you're gripped his head firmly as if you were keeping him from escaping. You pulled back slowly, Obi-Wan looked at you as if everything else dissolved and only you remained, he was at your total surrender.

“Maker, you're so beautiful,” Obi-Wan began, planting a kiss on your forehead. “and I love you as well, darling” Obi-Wan whispered to you, making you practically jump in arms, he laughed holding you up by your thighs.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan star wars #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obiwan #star wars imagine

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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

Text

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

(Part 2 of yesterday's snippet!)

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

Luke had been so sure of himself when he'd entered the chamber. He knew what he had to do, and he knew there was always a chance that he would die in the attempt. But his friends -- no, his family -- were trapped in this facility, and Luke would not let them die.

Yoda didn't understand. He claimed to have watched over Luke all his life. He criticized Luke for looking to the future and not the present.

If the present is so important, Master, if you can see so far, why didn't you see that Leia's been tortured by Vader before? How can you be willing to let her fall into his hands again?

No. Luke would never let that happen. His friend was more important than his training: he would never choose to let someone die for his own benefit.

That's not the kind of Jedi I'm going to be.

And so he had chosen to fight.

But there was a problem.

Darth Vader had chosen not to fight.

The man's presence filled the room like smoke, billowing and curling around them both as though it could cut off every escape route. Maybe it could. Luke was not foolish enough to believe that Vader was vulnerable, just because he refused to draw his sword. The Force was with him, after all. Corrupted, used for selfish purposes, but nevertheless a powerful ally.

But Vader did not attack.

Again and again he admonished Luke for his aggression. A hint of scolding. A hint of fond exasperation. As if he were a teacher correcting a favored pupil.

Or a fa-

Luke cut off the thoughts in fury. His enemy was underestimating him. Patronizing the would-be Jedi, so sure of his own superiority.

This was not a Darth Vader he had seen before. Where was the cold pragmatism? The apathy towards others? Clearly it had been in play when he had harmed Han and Leia and Chewie.

"I have no specific grievance against those you keep company with."

And that was worse. Infinitely worse. Everything he had done to his friends -- to Leia! -- and he didn't even have any particular issues with them?! If he could torture someone he didn't hate, what would he do to someone he did have a grudge against?

What will he do to me?

Now he walked down the stairs, ignoring Luke's lightsaber, speaking calmly as though he could pretend he hadn't just used sentient beings as bait to draw him here. It didn't work like that! He couldn't just make Luke drop his guard with honeyed words. Every child raised on Tatooine knew the danger of those who spoke sweetly and held a transmitter behind their backs. Luke wasn't going to fall for it and he wasn't shy about saying so.

"The jakreb learns to listen before he runs," his enemy quoted suddenly. He sounded amused.

That was an old saying on Tatooine. A proverb to teach children to watch carefully for signs of danger before making a move. There should have been no reason for Vader to know it.

None whatsoever.

I don't like this. Something is wrong.

Something plucked at his memories. A tickle at the back of his mind, like a spider crawling across his skin. Nothing concrete, but a nameless, formless, something.

"The dragon who moves too soon is a dragon who starves," Luke shot back, a little rashly.

Another old proverb. Less about wariness and caution and more about patience.

I know what you're doing, old man. You're the dragon. I'm the jakreb. So which one of us is going to move first?

But Vader kept walking. After all this, after the horrible things he'd done just to get Luke here, he was just...just leaving?! But that didn't make any sense!

“You want me to drop my guard, so you can kill me. Just like you did to Ben!” he accused.

He turned his blade to a more horizontal guard and stepped up to the high ground.

If Vader was trying to lure him in close enough to run him through, he was going to be disappointed.

“Luke.” Vader shook his head and continued to descend the staircase. Again his voice was sickeningly compassionate. “Obi-wan allowed himself to be killed. What his motives could have been, I do not know. He told himself and everyone around him such pretty lies that I am no longer certain that even he knew what his motivations were. But I assure you that whatever he did, he did so deliberately.”

The bottom seemed to drop out of Luke's stomach. There was so much anger hiding in those words. Maybe Vader didn't have a vendetta against Luke's friends, but it was very clear that he'd hated Obi-wan. But why?

Ben said that Vader betrayed and murdered his father. He said nothing about Vader betraying him. And he'd given no hint that there might be particularly bad blood between them. Did he just think it wasn't Luke's business?

But Luke knew that Vader was right about one thing: Ben had chosen to die at that particular moment. “To give us time to escape," he said defiantly. Lightsaber at the ready, he cautiously began to descend the stairs after Vader. "So we could destroy your Death Star! Worked out pretty well, Vader.”

“Indeed?”

Vader glanced back over his shoulder at Luke, then stepped off the edge of the platform.

What the kriff?!

He was leaving! Why? Was this room a trap? Would he activate one of those machines as soon as he was out?

Oh no way. Not a chance. You don't get to walk away from me, Sithspawn.

Luke scrambled to the edge of the platform in time to see Vader stepping into one of the maintenance tunnels.

“That is a topic for speculation, I believe," the rumbling voice echoed back. Luke definitely caught some sarcasm in his tone. "But for all the times your “Ben” betrayed me, it is fitting that in his final moments he unwittingly revealed you to me. Returning what he stole all those years ago.”

What.

The reverberating breaths faded out, and Luke stood at the edge of the platform. He tried to piece together what he'd just heard logically.

Had Ben stolen something from Vader? If the Sith wanted it, it was probably a good thing Obi-wan had taken it. Whatever it was. Maybe a weapon?

Luke's heart sank as he looked down at the brilliant blue glow of his saber.

Vader killed his father. He might have felt that Anakin's lightsaber rightfully belonged to him.

What do I do?! This is my lightsaber! My inheritance. It's all I have of my father and I will not let him take that away.

Luke's emotions twisted around each other, bending back over themselves in a discordant jangle of mismatched rhythms as he tried to understand what was happening. The grip of the saber was slick in his hands.

I'm…

No, no, I can do this.

I'm scared

I can do this!

He was being torn in two different directions. Every fiber of his being begged him to flee. To not walk into what could very well be a trap. But at the same time, something down that tunnel was calling him. Like a cord wrapped around his heart, steadily pulling him to an unknown destination, he felt the whispers more than he heard them.

I'm scared.

It's alright to be scared. I'm here.

They weren't words so much as sensations. Faintly brushing against his memory like a butterfly's wing, the whispers seemed to promise that everything would be alright, he just couldn't look back.

Frightened, but determined, Luke clipped his saber to his belt and eased over the edge of the platform.

It's okay. I can do this.

I can win.

Just don't look back.

The instant Luke stepped into the tunnel, the lights snapped on. He had a feeling that he was walking into a trap. But then, the place he had just left felt like a trap, too.

Kriff kriff kriff.

Stupid jakreb hopped right into the snare.

There was a control room at the end of the tunnel.

There was a Sith Lord at the end of the tunnel.

Luke had his lightsaber out almost before he had time to think.

A grate slid shut over the tunnel mouth behind him, cutting off his retreat.

Well.

At least he could see in this room.

"Put down your weapon, young one," Vader said again. He did not even turn away from the holographic map to face Luke.

"Not. Happening." Luke bared his teeth and forced himself to take two steps forward. "You have to answer for what you did, Vader. To my friends, and the galaxy, and the Jedi...and my father."

Quite suddenly, Vader's shoulders fell. He leaned against the projector as if he were bone-weary.

"Child, I have done nothing to your father."

He still did not turn.

"He is a contemptible, pitiable wretch, too quick to give his loyalty to those who do not deserve it. But he is a powerful wretch. Powerful enough to conceal your existence from the emperor for the last three years."

Luke stumbled back. His father's lightsaber hung by his side uselessly.

Present tense.

Darth Vader was speaking about his father in the present tense.

Anakin Skywalker.

Present tense.

"You...you're lying."

No please, please don't be lying-

I can't…

Don't toy with me you sleemo

Don't you dare use my father's memory as a ploy-

At last, Vader turned to face him. "I have done what I can, Luke," he said simply. "But now we are out of time."

"I have done what I can"

Something cold and clammy slithered in Luke's gut. It knotted in coils around his spine to sink its teeth into his heart. Against his will, tears sprang to his eyes.

He knew Darth Vader was evil, but this was a cruelty he had not expected. The carefully laid trap, baited with words, and the insinuations eased between sentences, struck deeper than any lightsaber's blow. He played on the memory of Luke's father -- of his loneliness, his lifelong yearning for his father -- and twisted it. Perverted it into an attempt at manipulation so blatant it could hardly be believed.

Did he believe it was an attempt at manipulation?

What if it was worse? What if Vader actually believed what he seemed to be implying? Pointing out how illogical it was could quickly become dangerous. But Luke was past the point of caring.

"You...you aren't half the man my father was!" he hissed.

Something bitter and almost amused dripped from the Sith to puddle around Luke's fear.

"An ironic statement."

"You don't know me!" Luke continued gamely on as if he had not been interrupted. "You think you're the first person to play mind games with my memories? Huh? Kriff you!"

He swung the blade up in a ready position.

Darth Vader tilted his head to one side, considering.

"This is not going to go the way you think."

The spiders were back, creeping across his brain. Luke blinked and shook his head to clear it. Losing his focus here would be fatal.

"Don't fight it."

Vader raised a hand towards him, almost reaching out.

"You have been running for a long time. It is alright to rest, now."

Was the Sith doing something to his mind?!

But Ben said mind tricks only worked on the weak-willed! And Yoda was always complaining about how stubborn he was!

"Get out of my head!" Luke shouted. Don't panic, don't panic-

"It is not me."

Oh, gentleness did not sound right coming out of that voice.

"You have forgotten who you are, and yet from our first encounter your memories have tried to reestablish themselves. Stop fighting them, Luke. Let them flow."

Luke stopped pretending he wasn't afraid. He was terrified. He was alone in an isolated place, too far away to call for help, and trapped with a deadly enemy who meant to prey upon his very sense of self.

His hands were shaking too badly to hold up his father's blade. This was so stupid, he was so stupid, he never should have come here! He had to get out, there had to be a way out!

Luke scanned the room frantically for an exit. He backed away from Vader and edged towards what looked like a corridor.

"Luke."

"No!"

Luke stumbled over a bundle of cables on the floor and nearly fell. He managed a graceful recovery despite his terror and kept moving.

"Stay away from me!"

Vader did not. He began to move at last, slow and purposeful and relentless.

The Force moved around them like a frigid tide, pulling machinery from the walls to land behind Luke. He was cutting off his escape. The trap had been sprung.

"Stop running, Luke."

"Leave me alone!"

He was pleading now.

All sense of bravado, of dignity, had fled.

Obi-wan was right. I'm not ready. I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die-

If Leia lives, it's worth it

But I don't-

I don't want to die

And then at last, he could go no further. His calves caught on some discarded hunk of metal, and toppled him. Sharp, broken pieces dug into his back as he landed. The pain felt distant, like something that was happening to someone else. Luke's increasing disorientation muffled everything but his fear.

This was the end. Luke, on the ground at Darth Vader's feet. If the encounter didn't end in immediate death, his interrogation was likely imminent.

But Vader

Knelt.

He kneeled down beside Luke and rested his gloved hand on Luke's cheek. Luke was very sure that his heart was going to stop.

Oh. He's going to snap my neck. At least it'll be quick.

"Enough, child." A deep bass growl vibrated through the words. He sounded as though he was finally angry. "I am not going to kill you!"

Before Luke had time to process that, he added, "I am trying to save you."

Save me?! From what?!

Luke swung out with one arm, trying to push the dark lord away. Vader caught his wrist easily and squeezed it.

"You know me." Each syllable dripped with an unexpected urgency. "Search your feelings: you will know it to be true. Remember, Luke. You must remember."

"No!" Luke tried in vain to pull away. "S-stop!"

He was pulled, gently, but firmly, up into a sitting position.

He was pulled, less gently, by the thread around his soul. It reached out, straining for something it had once known. A sense of something missing.

A sense that was being answered in kind.

And he felt something. Something he had felt before.

Or rather

Someone.

Luke knew the answer to the question his soul was asking.

He didn't want to know.

He didn't want to face it.

No, no please-!

"You have forgotten what you once knew," Vader murmured. "You have forgotten me. And I- I believed you had died."

Seething shadows coiled around them both.

"The Emperor will suffer no Skywalker to be free. If he is not entirely beneath the emperor's thumb, then he must die. If you lived, his hold on me was jeopardized. Luke, he told me you were dead. But here you are, alive again!"

Skywalker.

Vader was referring to himself as Skywalker.

The Force resonated. A great bell seemed to have tolled, and with each reverberation the jagged pieces were forced together.

Darkness and Light.

Hunter and quarry.

Lost and found.

Father and son.

Luke could not see through his tears. He didn't need to. He could feel.

The Force was no longer a counterpoint around them. It was a harmony. And that was the hardest truth of all.

Shhh, you are safe. I'm here, I'm here.

The same soundless lullaby that had soothed his childhood nightmares. The thing he had forgotten.

His father's voice.

I know you.

"Oh." Darth Vader lifted him free of the machinery as easily as if he were still a little child.

He pulled Luke into his arms. Luke did not have the strength to resist.

“There you are.”

#Free Day Thursday #star wars wednesday #star wars au #bespin au #esb au #darth vader #luke skywalker #fic prompts #writing prompts #Luke is Not having a good time but hey he doesn't lose a hand #sneaky Mufasa references Because I Can #look if a human baby can know and recognize their parents' voices before birth and you add Force Weirdness to that #then not only do you get a plausible explanation for Leia having memories of her mother #you also have the possibility of Luke recognizing his dad's Force signature

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cqjddhx · 2 years

Video

youtube

Obi-Wan & Anakin & Ahsoka

What If We Had Never Met | 如果我们不曾相遇

Here is the translation of the chinese lyrics: (it fits perfectly)

如果我们不曾相遇我会是在哪里？Where will I be, if we had never met? 如果我们不曾相识不存在这首歌曲 This song would not exist, if we had never met. 每秒都活着每秒都死去每秒都问着自己 For every second we live, every second we inch towards death, I ask myself 谁不曾找寻谁不曾怀疑茫茫人生奔向何地？ Is there anyone who has never sought, doubted, or wondered where life will go? 那一天那一刻那个场景你出现在我生命 That day, that moment, that scene which you appeared in my life 从此后从人生重新定义从我故事里苏醒 From then on, my life was redefined, and my story begins 如果我们不曾相遇你又会在哪里？ Where would you be, if we had never met? 如果我们从不曾相识人间又如何运行？ How would our lives go on, if we had never met? 晒伤的脱皮意外的雪景与你相依的四季 Sunburnt skin and unexpected snow – souvenirs of the four seasons together with you 苍狗又白云身旁有了你匆匆轮回又有何惧？ Even as years pass, with you at my side, what do I have to fear of the life after death? 那一天那一刻那个场景你出现在我生命 That day, that moment, that scene which you appeared in my life 每一分每一秒每个表情故事都充满惊奇 Every minute, every second and every expression makes our story more exciting 偶然与巧合舞动了蝶翼谁的心头风起 Serendipity swayed the butterfly’s wings, planting emotions in one’s heart 前仆而后继万千人追寻荒漠唯一菩提 Masses have searched, one after another, for enlightenment in this vast desert 是擦身相遇或擦肩而去命运犹如险棋 Will we brush past each other, or meet each other, in this random game of life? 无数时间线无尽可能性终于交织向你 Countless timelines, endless possibilities, finally intersecting with you 那一天那一刻那个场景你出现在我生命 That day, that moment, that scene which you appeared in my life 未知的未来里未定机率然而此刻拥有你 The unknown future may be filled with probabilities, but in this moment, you are with me 某一天某一刻某次呼吸我们终将再分离 Someday, at some moment, we will ultimately part ways 而我的自传里曾经有你没有遗憾的诗句 Yet you were once there in my tale, a tale of no regrets 诗句里充满感激 Only of gratitude 如果我们不曾相遇我会是在哪里？ Where will I be, if we had never met? 如果我们从不曾相识不存在这首歌曲 This song would never exist, if we had never met.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #fanvid #star wars prequels #the clone wars #tcw #I love them so much so I made this video

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daddywanken0bi · 4 years

Text

Silent Treatment

gif is not mine

word count: 3.1k

author: Allie

warnings: angst, some gore, talk about death. There aren’t really any, just a lot of feelings.

a/n: phew, okay, first post. Don’t be nervous, Allie, you can do it. Ah! Hi! I’m new to this! Please enjoy!

“Why do I always seem to find you in the infirmary?” You ask a dishevled Obi Wan with a knowing hand on your hip. His gaze flies from the expansive transparisteel to your eyes, a broad grin stretching his face.

“Where else would you find me?”

“I don’t know, elsewhere in the Temple.” You respond, checking your data pad then scanning his body for any injuries. “Or the senate building, perhaps. I don’t spend all of my time here, you know.” He lets out a chuckle.

“I know. But as a Jedi, I nearly always have an excuse to visit the med bay, more so than the senate building.” He remarks, his grin never faltering.

“It seems you live quite an opposite life from me, then.” You gather first-aid materials from the cabinets. “Senator Organa has been piling on the work. It seems the only time I’m not at the senate building is when I’m volunteering here-“

“Is when you’re spending time with me?” He grins playfully. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at you lips.

“Patching you up, more like.”

“How is the Senator, by the way?”

“He is well.“

“Good.”

“Kind of you to ask about my mentor, Master Kenobi.” You smile as you prep a swab with antiseptic ointment.

“Well, his status tends to reflect onto you. I just want to make sure you’re well enough to fix me properly.”

You toss him another eye roll. His grin remains plastered.

“Now. What is your excuse for visiting me this time?”

“Well,” He began, “Anakin and I were assigned to guard Senator Amidala - there were recent threats on her life, my Padawan and I were the only ones available, you know how it goes. Anakin kept insisting that we investigate the matter, and I had to constantly remind him that we were there to protect, not interrogate. He was still difficult. Although, I’ve come to realize that when it comes to the senator, Anakin gets a little too carried away.”

“Doesn’t Anakin have a habit of getting too carried away?”

“Why, yes,” He chuckles, “However, I fear he has grown rather attached to her…” Obi Wan’s expression morphs, his grin faltering as he gazes at you. But it doesn’t remain long enough for you to decipher it. He shakes his head.

“Anyway, last night an assassin released a pair of Kouhun’s into the senator’s bedroom. Anakin sensed them just before I did. He ran in and killed the bugs just as I jumped out the window to-“

“You jumped out a window?!”

Obi Wan’s shit-eating grin returned.

“I’m alright, darling. I’m alive, aren’t I?” His assuring tone sends butterflies to your stomach. You shake your head and chuckle.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop unnecessarily putting your life at risk?”

“How many times have I visited the infirmary?”

“Obi Wan…” Your tone is stern yet compassionate, and he senses your concern.

“I’m sorry.” He says genuinely as he holds your eyes. You feel the butterflies flit around your insides again.

“Just don’t let me catch you back in here again anytime soon.” You finish patching up his face you don’t say anything about how he needn’t come to the infirmary for a scratch and he nods.

“I promise.”

“If you’ll wait just a moment, the doctor will be in shortly-“

“I think I’m alright,” He hops up from the bed and turns to you. “I only came to see you, anyway.” His eye drops in a wink and he jogs out the infirmary door.

*******

You should be paying attention, Representative Binks just moved to give the chancellor emergency power, but your mind keeps drifting back to what Obi Wan said to you in the infirmary: “I only came to see you, anyway.” You always knew that his injuries weren’t the only reason he visited the medical wing, but he never admitted it out loud before. And the fact that it was accompanied by a wink, well, the butterflies hadn’t stopped dancing since. You think about Obi Wan every day and every night, for that matter the whole week, and your mind is still spinning with thoughts of the suave Jedi. You wonder what he’s been up to, what missions he’s completed, what planet he’s on. And secretly hope he might dislocate his shoulder or sprain his ankle so he might remain in the infirmary for a few days when he gets back…

“Well, this is a terrifying turn of events.” Senator Organa’s words drag you out of your thoughts. You involuntarily hum at his exclamation. The senator turns to you.

“Have you been listening at all?” He asks, you wince.

“Not entirely, Senator.” He only sighs in response

“Will you be volunteering in the med bay this evening?”

“Only tomorrow.” You shake your head.

“Good. We have our work cut out for us. I need to send a message to Padme…” His voice trails as your mind returns to Obi Wan, your mind relishing in the sparkle of his eyes and the joy of his smile and how good his ass looks in those trousers. In all your years of knowing him, you only recently started noticing how handsome he truly is. Sure, he was attractive as a padawan, but it was more his humor and his nature that made you want to be his friend. However, as soon as he cut the braid and grew out his hair, he began to make you weak in the knees.

You would never admit it, though, at least not out loud, and especially not to his face. He is a good Jedi, dedicated to the council and the code. You are not convinced he would break it for an aspiring politician like you. So, you keep your pining to yourself, and cherish the brief moments you share in the medical wing.

*******

Two weeks after Obi Wan’s last visit, you get word of a devastating battle on Geonosis. Hundreds of Jedi dead, and the few survivors are to return in mere hours. Your mind instantly pictures your Jedi, the one you’ve foolishly grown so fond of. Had he been there? Did he make it out? Is he alive?

You tune your ears into the whispers buzzing through Senate. “Master Yoda came in with a clone army.” “Count Dooku is apparently a Sith Lord.” “Senator Amidala along with Master Kenobi and his padawan were captured and sentenced to be executed-“

Executed?! Your mind races against your heart, a neck and neck battle for the finish line. You bolt to the elevator, bouncing your knee and tugging the pendant around your neck, anxiously urging the machine to move faster. It reaches ground level. You don’t even bother looking for a speeder, the notorious Coruscant traffic will only hinder your mission. You run. No, sprint. With your shoes in your hand and the concrete hard on your feet, all you can think about is getting to the Jedi Temple as fast as possible, confirm that your Obi Wan isn’t dead.

The thought makes your heart shrivel inside your chest, and you aren’t sure if it’s the sting of the wind or your pain that pricks tears into your eyes. Obi Wan was permanent for you, a constant in your life. You wouldn’t know what to do if he were taken from you. Who else would brighten your day with only a smile? Who else would bring you such unconditional joy?

You don’t know how long it takes for you to arrive at the temple, but as soon as you do, you B-line for the docking bay, heaving and aching. You immediately spot Padme and Anakin being helped onto stretchers. You get closer and notice Padme has a gash slicing her back and Anakin missing an arm, but no sign of his Master.

“Where is he?” You pant when you reach them. Anakin looks at you, reassuring yet unsurprised.

“He’s already at the infirmary. He’s in better shape than I am.” He winces and your heart rate slows.

“Oh, thank the Maker.” You exhale and express your gratitude before darting up to the medical wing.

“Miss (Y/L/N), I thought you didn’t have a shift today-“

“I’m here to see Master Kenobi.”

“Oh!” The receptionist’s eyebrows raised. “He’s just inside. He’s been asking for you.”

Asking for you. You barrel into the infirmary and scan the now-filled beds for the familiar strawberry blonde hair. You pan the room, eyes frantic until-

There he is, tucked into the bed furthest on the left, as disheveled as ever. Your shoulders drop in relief and his eyes meet yours. His grin splits his face as you approach him, like your presence is the only treatment he needs. All you can see of his injuries are a few scratches on his face and his arm in a sling. You are sure that isn’t the extent of them, but he’s breathing, and that’s all that matters. But it doesn’t ease the constricting under your ribs. You can tell he senses your concern and his brow creases.

“I’m fine, darling,” His voice is hoarse. “I’m going to be fine. The doc said they’re just flesh wounds.” Wounds. There’s more than one. “A few days in a bacta tube and I’ll be back to normal.”

“I heard you were to be executed.” Your lip unwillingly trembles. “I thought you…died,” You whimper. “I…I thought I lost you.” Your knees buckle. Obi’s smile falters and he reaches for your hand.

“You could never loose me, little one,” He brings your hand to his lips. “Never.”

You tear slips down your cheek and you stare at the hand that so gingerly grasps yours. Seeing him alive and intact should be enough to relieve you, yet you can’t help the nagging, tugging at your heart. What if you really had lost him? What if he was reckless? Or outnumbered? Or worse, what if he decided to play the hero and sacrifice himself? What would have been left of you then? Would he have even thought of you before drawing his final breath? Would he be as broken if the roles were reversed…?

You gently drop your hand from his grasp and you watch as his brow furrows. Without another word, you back away and slowly make your way out of the infirmary.

*******

It’s been days, no, weeks, you lost count since you last saw Obi Wan. This time, however, it’s on purpose that you don’t see him. On the day of his so near brush with death you vow to limit your interactions with your favorite Jedi. It would be easier to forget him that way. You cancel your shifts in the infirmary and dive head first into your senate work. And it’s not like you have to try very hard to do so: Senator Organa is swamped with messages and whatnot since the start of the Clone Wars, and can’t go through it all alone.

On day 15 17 18 locked in the senator’s office, you get a call from a rather frantic receptionist at the med bay.

“Please, Miss (Y/L/N)- there’s an empty bed in wing 5 -we are so short staffed and- the saline packets are already prepped -we could really use your help.”

“I’m sorry, but Senator Organa and I are overloaded with work-“

“If they need you, (Y/N), you can go.” The senator interrupts. Your eyes beg him to provide you with an excuse - you know if the infirmary is overwhelmed, then Obi Wan Kenobi is surely among the patients.

“But Senator, there’s still so much to-“

“Go.” He smiles knowingly. “I’ll be fine.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You know the receptionist on the other side of the hologram could hear the exchange with your mentor, so there was no way to wiggle yourself out of this one.

“I’m on my way.”

This time on your way to the temple, you’ll take a speeder.

When you arrive, it’s chaos. 50 clones are packed into the first wing of the infirmary, and you can imagine how many more congest the others. You grab the nearest datapad and quickly start assessing soldiers, determining who can be cleared and who needs to stay over night. You’re just finishing up with your 39th? patient when a familiar voice materializes behind you.

“You’ve been avoiding me, little one.”

You pause, blink slowly and let out an exasperated sigh. You discharge the clone, he was in better shape then most of his comrades, and muster all of the courage you can to face your Obi Wan. He’s banged up, but not nearly as busted as the last time he visited. However his most disturbing injury is that his usually sparkling eyes are shrouded in confusion.

“I haven’t-“

“Don’t lie to me,” He’s stern, “I can sense it.” Hurt flashes in his eyes before fading into selfless concern. He can see you’re struggling, but he doesn’t know why.

“Master Kenobi-“

“Darling, you can talking to me. Whatever is troubling you, please-“

“Master Kenobi, this is hardly the time or place-“

“I’ll come to your apartment tonight, then.” He tries to calm the panic in your voice and smiles warmly. “For a cup of tea.”

You can hardly focus the rest of the day. He looked so small, his usual confidence eluding him. You dare, for just a moment, to entertain the thought that he might be just as terrified to loose you as you are to loose him. But an incorrect stitch on a soldier’s wound immediately shakes it from your mind. As the amount of patients in the infirmary dwindle, the chief medic approaches you.

“Your assistance is no longer necessary, Miss.” He shakes your hand “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“I’m happy to help.”

You make your way back to your apartment just as the sky starts to darken. You realize that Obi Wan never told you what time he would arrive. Of course didn’t, even without a schedule, his timing is always impeccable. You ponder what you might say to him. There’s no way to explain your recent behavior without confessing your feelings to him. But his eyes keep flashing in your mind; desperate, hurt, and confused. Is it at all possible he feels the same way?

You continue with your nighttime routine as if he weren’t coming at all. It’s better than just sitting and waiting at your kitchen table. You allow your body to take over and your mind to relax. The conversation you’re about to have is inevitable, there is no use fretting about it. You’ve been distancing yourself from him this whole time to lesson the pain of loosing him. Whether you lost him to his own mortality or to unrequited love, you are prepared nonetheless. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You almost don’t hear the soft knock on your chamber door. You’d been staring into space for longer than you care to admit, lost in the beating of your heart in your throat. Your eyes flick to the door and you swallow the lump you notice forming.

“It’s unlocked.” You announce meekly. The door creaks, and a just as timid Obi Wan steps through.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked, you know.” He closes it with a soft thud. On any other day, you would have come up with an equally witty remark, but in this moment, all you can do is nod.

“Have you started the kettle?” He asks, already knowing the answer. He meets you in the kitchen and goes straight to the cabinet where the tea kettle lived. He’s been to your place countless times before. But this time, it feels like a stranger is in your flat. You’re silent as he prepares the pot.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, darling.”

“Obi…” You mumble. “I don’t know where to start.” Obi wan pulls two mugs from a top shelf.

“That day, after I came back from Geonosis, I’ve never seen you so upset.” He explains.

“I was.” You revel in how patient he’s being with you. You can feel how desperate he is for answers, but he isn’t pushing you. It’s in this moment you realize how much you’ve missed him, how wrong you’ve been this entire time.

“I was so afraid of loosing you, Obi Wan.” You begin, and your voice cracks. Obi Wan stops prepping the tea. You take a shaky breath. “I understood that the threat was always there, but being so close to actually loosing you…it terrified me. I thought that by limiting my contact with you, that fear would subside, I wouldn’t be so attached to you anymore.” You find his eyes. “I realize now how wrong I was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I realize that I would rather have you in my life and risk loosing you, than not have you at all. I’d rather risk my heart breaking everyday because I know you don’t love me the way I love you-“

You gasp. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. You’ve never said it aloud before. You swore you’d never say it to him. You watch his eyes widen and panic seeps into your veins.

“Oh, Obi Wan, please forgive me. I don’t want-“

In two long strides, his lips are on yours, his calloused hands gently, desperately pulling your face against his. You’re caught completely off guard, worried words muffled by his gesture. You would have fallen if it weren’t for his sturdy grasp.

But despite your whirring thoughts, your body melts into him, and you allow yourself to be held…kissed. Soon, your mind follows suit, and Obi Wan senses your relaxation. He relinquishes your lips, slow but sure, and eventually opens his eyes to meet yours, wide and searching. You bring your hands to hover above his chest. You’re trying to form words, but they escape you. All you can think about is Obi Wan stroking your hair behind your ear. You accept defeat, unable to express all that you are currently feeling, and place your hands on his chest.

“I am sorry to have been breaking your heart for so long,” He whipsers, “But it baffles me that you think I do not love you.” He rests his forehead against yours. “How could I not?”

“But the code-“

“Code be dammed.”

“But it’s illegal, Obi. You’ll be expelled.”

“Shhh, darling. That’s a conversation for the morning. For now, just promise you’ll never ignore me again. I couldn’t bare it.”

Relief, true relief, relaxes your shoulders and exhales from your mouth. You slide your fingertips along the linen of his tunic to his now shorter hair, pressing yourself closer to him.

“I promise.” You vow against his lips, this kiss gentler and sweeter than the last, lost in the bliss and the warmth that is your Obi Wan.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan imagine #obi wan x reader #obi wan x y/n #obi wan fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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