#like. qui gon raised two padawans before dooku started on his third | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Note

Could you talk more about your gumbo jar jar au or the frog one? 🐸

hm on close review the frog promise draft is a now redundant drabble from this au. Here it is in its entirety:

“I will never join you,” Luke said with a sneer of disgust.

Palpatine, as well as the nearby politicians, Jedi masters, and reporters were taken aback.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning, Master Jedi,” the Senator said incredulously. “Do you mean to tell me that you consider yourself separate from the Republic? I know the Jedi Council had disavowed recognizing you but I never could have imagined...” he trailed off, leaving the crowd to murmur in alarm.

“I mean I will never join the Sith,” the rogue master replied calmly. “I imagine you’re responsible for the traces of the dark side I felt amongst the trade federation leaders.”

“The Sith...I see.” Palpatine took a step back, deliberately reassuring tone and alarmed expression clearly indicated that he suspected the man before him of insanity. “It’s been a very long day and you clearly intended to do good by my humble home world. Perhaps your fellow Jedi can take you to the healers so you can-”

“Why are you working alongside a Sith Lord?” Luke cut off the Senator and addressed Grandmaster Yoda directly.

“A Sith Lord, you say?” Master Yoda replied. “A most serious allegation, this is.”

Basically, Luke derails the Naboo Crisis by absolutely annihilating the trade federation army, only realizing after the fact when and where he is. This means that Padme turns right around from Tatooine and never voices her vote of no-confidence. Now, Palpatine probably had contingency plans in place, but the public accusation by a Jedi of being responsible for the crisis in the first place, despite absolutely no evidence, hurts his image enough that he’s not going to win a vote, because people will think it’s a power grab.

And it’s funny cause it’s true but Luke only barely knows that! He’s just accusing Palpatine of being behind the first evil thing he sees and he fuckin happens to be right!!!

Anyway Luke doesn’t focus on Palpatine; there are like 10,000 other Jedi around. He commits himself first and foremost to completing his training with Master Yoda because sometime Yoda just dies and fades into thin air so, you know! He’s not going to procrastinate on that again!

He goes before the council and humbly asks to be taken on Yoda’s student (this is right before Qui-Gon can ask about Anakin- literally, Anakin and Qui-Gon are in the waiting room). He gives several extremely vague banthashit explanations of who he is ‘I’m a follower of the Force,’ where he comes from ‘the Force sent me,’ and why they should train him when he’s way too old ‘the Force willed it.’ Yoda is somewhat impressed because those are some real unhelpfully wise answers and- here’s the kicker- Luke actually believes them!

He is really committed to being a Jedi! Is 110% all about being a luminous being! This is several years after return of the Jedi and Luke has pretty much just been hanging out in force temples meditating with ghosts so he has quintessential Jedi vibes, he just knows jackshit about anything!

What really clinches it for Yoda is the fact that his robe pocket starts squirming and he pulls out a live Nabooian Salt Frog. And hands it to Yoda like, “These are one of your favorites right? :) I saw it and I thought of you :)”

Now Yoda- let’s step back a second. Yoda is old. Yoda, in his youth, was a bit more feral. He’s a top level predator and the order has always celebrated diversity and being true to your origins! He’s hunted with Tortugans on Shili! He’s unhinged his jaw with Besalisks on Ojom!

But as the Republic’s boundaries caved in on themselves, he was more and more put into contact with Core senators who tend to be unnerved by more, ah, carnivorous tendencies. And the more he was put into high level positions by virtue of being really frickin old, the more restrained he became in his public behavior.

Decades passed and younglings who only ever knew his more ‘harmless-prank’ feral tendencies were increasingly shocked and scared to see him occasionally unhinge his jaw to eat a scrocodile whole. Some of the prey-origin younglings from that field trip actually avoided him for the rest of the their lives.

So. Yoda is still a carnivore- but- in private. With his padawans and his closest peers. But his closest peers age and die and his padawans get younger and smaller as the decades pass. He took on two herbivorous padawans in a row and as a result restrained himself from openly hunting with another soul for around for 50 years.

And then there’s Dooku. ‘Ah a human,’ he thinks. ‘They hunt sometimes. Well. They’re omnivores at least.’

And Dooku is- and I’m not saying this to shame Dooku- but he’s prissy. He likes...neatness. He’s not afraid of violence but force forbid it’s untidy. So when Yoda, excited to get his ambush predation on, takes 14 year old Dooku who’s barely ever left the sterile confines of Coruscant on a trip to a swamp world- yeaaahh it doesn’t go well. Dooku- he doesn’t mean to, honestly. How would he even know that Yoda might be sensitive about things? He’s Yoda.

But Dooku sobbing openly and puking a little in a bush and running away from Yoda because his Master is terrifying and gross. It... kind of puts the nail in the coffin for Yoda being open about that side of himself. He doesn’t really have it in him to try again. People’s view of him is too fixed, they can’t handle him also being a flesh creature so he focuses on the luminous side of him which is and always was, genuinely, more important than him.

And that’s been the last 100 years or so. The thrill of a live kill is just a little piece of himself that he meditates away and that’s ok. He has the force. He has the order. He’s old anyway, a real hunt would probably hurt his joints.

And then in comes Luke, radiating Light and earnestness and Jedi serenity while also holding out a very tasty looking live frog. And Yoda realizes Dooku’s not around, he’s surrounded by a council he trusts and respects and likes, none of whom are 14 year olds, all of whom have seen the galaxy and seen worse. He is almost seizing the moment but there’s a little part of him that shriveled up when Dooku cried that’s having a hard time accepting this.

“Want it for yourself, you do not?” Yoda cackles, playing off the offer.

Luke smiles sheepishly and pulls out another live frog. “I was saving it for later. Forgive me Master, your senses are keen as ever I see.”

And Yoda...it’s not about the bribe, really, so much as the symbolism, and it’s not about the flattery either, but darn is the kid really pulling out the stops to make himself likable. And he is a kid, to Yoda anyway. Everyone is these days. What does he care about numbers when there’s a boy smiling like his third padawan, an adorable Rodian who took great delight in their more amphibious and wild missions?

Yoda snatches one of the frogs and slowly raises it in a parody of a toast. Luke does the same. The rest of the council quietly watches in various shades of bewilderment and bemusement.

They’re not actually going to eat that right? Mace thinks. Ugh I hate frogs the skin is so slimy. Shaak Ti thinks. I cannot believe they’re not even offering me one. Yaddle thinks.

And Yoda bites the head off the frog in a quick snap of his jaws, the rest following rapidly. Luke does the same- a slight assist from the force helping his less specialized mandible tear through skin and bone in a well practiced move. He chews slower, but finishes the frog soon enough, the rest of the council looking on with deep uncertainty and a tiny bit of hunger, but no actual fear. They’re Jedi Masters; they’ve eaten everywhere, it’s just a little weird for a human to be eating a live animal and Yoda as far as anyone knew only ate stew and also they were in the middle of a council meeting.

Yoda belches and Luke smiles genially.

“Take you on as my padawan learner, I will. Much to learn you have, much to teach you, I do.”

Luke beams. The council looks on in shock.

“Master Yoda,” Mace Windu says hesitantly, “He’s clearly in his late 20s, at the earliest. If this is about the... frog thing-”

“Was a pleasant surprise, the frog. The reason for my decision, it is not. Had some training already, he has. Know each other before this day, we do. Taking over for a Master passed into the force, I am merely. Our custom, this is.”

Luke bows lowly and an initiate is summoned to escort him to the quartermasters and then the long-empty padawan suite next to Yoda’s chambers.

Qui-Gon and Anakin are brought in and. Well. It’s a little hard for them to simply reject the boy after Yoda just pulled that stunt. He’s sent to the initiates dorm, eventually. Mace Windu has a headache from the shatterpoints blinking in and out of existence. Shaak Ti is delighted to discuss a hunting trip with Master Yoda and his new padawan learner Luke Svader.

The force dances.

#Anonymous #ask #300 celebration #star wars #my au #star wars au #frog promise au #yoda #star wars au no 29 #nevertheless meta #luke skywalker eats frogs

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whetstonefires · 3 years

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heavier than a mountain, lighter than a feather

[my take on @misskirby's not-prompt about obi-wan beating palpatine to death with an office chair]

Obi-Wan had once touched the cold-burning edge of the Dark Side to give himself the extra edge he needed to cut down the Sith who had cut down his Master. He had fought with rage pushing him, he had fought with all the fear that Qui-Gon lay expiring on the reactor floor, that he might yet win and find himself seconds too late to bring the emergency med-treatment necessary to survive a lightsaber to the chest.

(Not that it had mattered; all he’d gotten from his desperate, hasty win was a few seconds of farewell bereft of comfort, and the burden of Anakin hung around his neck, and oh, he wished his padawan was not a burden. There had been no option but to take him and thus taking him must have been right, but no one should take on a student they did not feel ready for, and he had.)

If he had fought that way this time, he would have lost.

The Sith Master would have done what the apprentice could not, and twisted the Dark Side within him as it rose, and snared him in it, so he could not find his way back to the Light, and used that grip to bear him down with Sidious’ greater power, because the Sith said the Force will free me but it was the way of the Dark to place one will over another by pure force, so even what narrow freedom there was on the dark path was offered to one alone. Even in the best case, he would have been overwhelmed too heavily to fight for more than long enough to finish him.

Perhaps he would not have been killed. Perhaps he would have been kept alive to be used as leverage against Anakin. But assuredly he would not have been able to win.

Obi-wan however had what he would have thought of, if he had allowed himself to think about it, a trick for using his attachments and the desire not to lose them as fuel without reaching into the destabilizing, consuming whirlwind of the Dark Side. It was a dangerous, stupid trick, really, at least the way he used it, although Obi-wan thought of that way as fundamental to being a good Jedi, which would have explained a great deal about him if anyone had known.

The trick was this: it was easy to push yourself to where your limits should have been and beyond using your attachment to a person, without falling into the hungry selfishness of the Dark Side, if you simply did not intend to survive.

When he was thirteen, he had tried to persuade Qui-Gon Jinn, who had not yet been his Master, to use the bomb in his recently fitted slave-collar to blow open a door, killing Obi-wan but allowing him complete the mission, which was not Obi-wan’s mission

It was not difficult to return to that place, that space in himself where serenity came easy because soon there would be nothing left to go wrong or to lose—Anakin had made it difficult, for a long time; Anakin he was obliged to raise and train. Anakin who needed him.

All his obligation to the war and the Council and all the men under his command had not pinned him to himself the way his duty to Anakin had, and—knighting him had been helpful. It had been a relief, to finally cast off that weight. There is no death, there is the Force was much easier to believe of oneself than of those one grieved, and some weeks Obi-wan breathed it in and out with every breath, and there was no fear.

He knew several things, as he entered the Senate through an entrance that was technically, perhaps, a window. One that did not open, at that. That the Chancellor had some kind of failsafe embedded in the GAR’s brains. That the Chancellor was a Sith Lord. That the Chancellor had been using his access to Anakin all these years to hurt his Padawan.

That if he took the time to assemble the rest of the Council and try to stage this as a proper arrest, word would have time to reach Palpatine of Obi-wan having been publicly informed, because Maul was the least subtle sentient Obi-wan had ever had the misfortune of meeting more than once, and that if Palpatine knew the jig was up he would use his fail-safe.

So Obi-wan needed to do this alone.

It was possible, of course, that it wouldn’t be difficult. Sidious was a creature of stealth and insinuation. He spent most hours of his life maintaining a posture of harmlessness. When could he have found the time to do regular lightsaber drills, let alone practice live combat?

But Maul probably feared the man for a reason. So Obi-wan was going to do this as quickly as possible, but he wasn’t going to be hasty.

Spring the trap.

He’d closed himself down in the Force before he got near the Senate building, jumping through the hole he’d sliced into the window with only his physical strength and no Jedi edge, and only when he got near the Chancellor’s office did he reopen his senses just a thread, to make sure there was no one in there meeting with Palpatine whom he needed to keep alive. The Force didn’t slam into him with a warning, which would have to be confirmation enough.

Obi-wan yanked the door open, hurled five primed thermal detonators in the direction of the great ship-like slab of an occupied desk, slammed the ornate portal shut again, and threw himself to the ground at the foot of the wall, as far away as he could get, head tucked under his arms. He was fairly sure he’d seen Mas Amedda in there, standing beside the desk as the Chancellor in his thronelike chair raised his head with a gratifyingly startled look on his face.

Pity. The Vice-Chancellor could probably have explained so much of what had been going on behind the scenes, all this time.

The blast left the office door half-shattered, belching smoke, but Obi-wan escaped with just one splinter, not terribly large, in the back of one calf. His robes and boots had absorbed the rest of the shrapnel that had made it that far. He tugged it out as he got up—no time to do anything more, it wasn’t bleeding much. He drew a deep breath of half-clean corridor air and dashed into the opaque ruin that had been the Chancellor’s office, senses fully unfurled now that the time for stealth was over. Though in the interest of not being an irresistible target, he did not ignite his lightsaber just yet.

The Force guided him through the smoke, and he brought his sword to light even as he swung it through the murk.

It stopped, humming, against a bar of red light that hissed into being at the last instant, and that felt equally inevitable.

“You.” Sheev Palpatine’s face looked like a Sith Lord’s now, twisted with hate and lit red from below. And, gratifyingly, somewhat scorched. His hair had sizzled from the heat, and his left arm seemed to have something at least mildly wrong with it. Obi-wan hoped the explosions had affected at least one of his legs, as well, since his own maneuverability was cut by the shard of door to the calf.

“Me indeed, Chancellor,” he said, taking advantage of his two-handed grip to bear down against the block with extra force. Palpatine bore up admirably, but as his snarl tightened it was clear that it was not without cost. “Or should I say, Lord Sidious?”

The smoke was starting to thin, leaking away out of the shattered room. Sidious was still behind his ruined desk with its weakly sparking console, which seemed to have taken much of the impact for him—he was standing, anyway, sadly. Mas Amedda’s corpse, on the far end of the desk from the one Obi-wan had circumnavigated, was one of the things that was still smoking. Most of the brocade and other decorative fabric in the room must have been thoroughly treated with fire-retardant, but he had not been.

“I thought you might have learned my true name,” Palpatine said, far too complacently for someone whose long deception had been uncovered and who was staving off death one-handed. “But what brought you racing here in such haste?”

“Well, you see, they used to call me Sith-killer because of Maul, and since that’s been proven regrettably in error, I thought I had better—” Sidious tried to fling him back against the opposite wall with a sharp jerk of his wounded hand, and Obi-wan had to push back with the whole of his will and stance to slide back only a few feet.

This had freed their lightsabers, though, and Sidious chopped low with a terrible speed. Obi-wan leapt clear, knowing the blood soaking into the pale fabric of his pants was betraying the weakness in his leg—Anakin had had a point, he admitted grudgingly, about black hiding all kinds of stains.

For better and for worse.

He tried to catch Sidious with an overhead slash while he was up, to keep that red lightsaber busy for the most part, and when it was intercepted used the force of that impact to somersault back in a momentary return to his master’s old Ataru style—not too far, though, at all costs he must prevent the Sith Master’s escape.

Sidious wouldn’t need to get far, just to a room with a working holo transmitter, to destroy everything.

He flung himself back in.

Palpatine sidestepped his next attack, parried another, stepped back with the third. His single arm was telling against him, and while he was regrettably fast his movements were stiff enough that he had clearly taken at least one other hurt. Probably somewhere in the right hip. Obi-wan stayed on the offensive—it was how he’d beaten Maul, after all, though he was at pains to avoid overreaching to the point of recreating Anakin’s loss to Dooku.

His attacks did more damage to the sparking desk, bisected the thronelike monstrosity of a chair, which turned out under all the gilt, padding, and chromium to be mostly of durasteel, got close enough to put additional charred rents in Palpatine’s ornate sleeves. Nearly a minute had passed since he threw those detonators, and Sidious was still alive. Too long.

“Really,” said the politician, dropping his stance to one that would allow him to parry more from the shoulder, his first hint of fatigue. His style was not quite Makashi even as he adapted to the one-handed approach that was clearly not his preference, but there were some notes to it that rang so strongly of Dooku they could come from nowhere else. “What do you hope to achieve?”

“You won’t have Anakin,” Obi-wan said, the plot that had been in retrospect laid so horribly bare with just a few sentences from Maul, supported by a few more from some of their most trusted troopers, put together with a hundred hints and oddities and he should have guessed on his own.

Sidious grinned, the amiable wrinkles of his face lying deeper and more correct, somehow, in this attitude of wild, infinite gloating. “Possessiveness, Master Jedi?”

“No,” said Obi-wan, and it was true because he had given Anakin up, given everything up before he came here. He was holding onto nothing, he was an object in free-fall but not falling, because he was at exactly the right place and momentum at the outer edge of a gravity well that would let him remain at a constant height.

Orbits degraded, given time, if not carefully maintained. And if they were disrupted sharply enough it meant a violent, flaming spiral down into explosive doom, or sometimes out into the fathomless dark. This was not a true, secure serenity like a Jedi should strive for. But it would serve. For today, it would serve.

He fell on Sidious again in a flurry of blows, pushing his physical advantage, but although the Chancellor was clearly straining to keep up this defense, his stamina continued to fail to run out or even noticeably decline, as though he had learned to subsist on some constant well of the Force alone.

Probably he had, because it was welling up out of him, filling the room, an endless pit of the Dark that had lain concealed like a trap under pinned canvas and scattered leaves all this time. He was drawing heavily upon the Dark Side now and that wasn’t precisely goodbut it was promising.

He was beginning to develop something that was not quite optimism or confidence but approached both by the time the progress of the humming, crashing process of the duel took them past the far end of the desk, back into sight of what had been Mas Amedda. Palpatine angled his next fractional retreat toward the corps, away from the cracked and blackened windows, avoiding the treacherous footing of a shattered vase that had probably been a valuable antique.

Obi-wan tried to take advantage of the change in angle in the next rapid, whirring clash of lightsabers.

Unlike every other time they had crossed blades this duel, Sidious simply—shut his off in the moment before contact.

Obi-wan had committed a little too much of his weight to the blow to abort it entirely. Sidious ducked away from the remainder with a sinuous grace even as he activated his weapon again, now on the inside of Obi-wan’s guard—trakata, executed with terrible excellence.

The need for the dodge was the trakata maneuver’s great weakness, and gave Obi-wan time to avoid the worst of the stroke, but even still the red lightsaber clipped him across the wrist—not a clean sweep slicing off the hand entire, but a glancing blow, that seared through the skin and flesh and took a significant bite out of the ulna.

Obi-wan didn’t try to repress his strangled scream, and Sidious leaned into it in the Force, pressing at the pain, stoking it and encouraging it to drag him down into the Dark, where he would be the Sith Master’s plaything. He was smirking now, more deeply and honestly than ever, a laugh rising into his mouth, for if Master Kenobi had had a slight edge in their fight with two hands to one, with the Jedi’s primary weapon-hand incapacitated, the Sith would surely dominate.

In that moment, Obi-wan moved to rebalance the odds. His blue lightsaber chopped down—not onto Sidious’ flesh, which it was clear he guarded with the preternatural awareness of a being whose own self was as valuable as all the Galaxy else, but to sheer through the emitter end of the crimson lightsaber.

It spat and burst but, unfortunately, tragically failed to explode.

As Sidious raised his eyes from the ruined weapon looking like he might explode in its place out of pure outrage, Obi-wan brought his sword back up to go for the decapitating blow now that the Sith had no weapon to block with, but in that moment Sidious’ burnt and broken hand jabbed up, and shot a gout of lightning into his face.

His back arced so violently it threw him off his feet, and it was all Obi-wan could do to keep hold of his lightsaber in his good hand and deactivate it as he went down, to avoid doing himself a worse injury than Sidious had yet managed. The lightning followed him down, scouring its way from just beside his left eye down every nerve ending he had in a screaming, jerking chorus of pain.

The deep lightsaber burn on his right wrist somehow hurt more now than it had to receive, but the force of his constant convulsions kept him from screaming again.

Then it stopped. He had no idea how long it had been, and wondered if Palpatine had become too fatigued to keep up the electrocution. There had to be a limit to how long he could maintain that kind of power output. His chest was heaving, trying with animal need to make up for lost oxygen. Smoke and the scent of dead Chagrian weighed down his sensory world, since his eyes declined to open and most of his body would only say pain.

The whisper of expensive Senate slippers crunched toward him over the rubble of the ruined office with a surefootedness that no one would have expected of the elderly Chancellor. At least he was still here; Obi-wan had angered him enough to bother sticking around to kill him rather than running off to activate the troops.

Or maybe he was confident he could spin this whole event to his benefit—Obi-wan had destroyed the security cameras that would have recorded his Sith activities, after all. Maybe he would say Master Kenobi had been tragically killed defending him from the dreadful Sith Lord. Maybe he would ask Anakin to become his constant protector in Obi-wan’s memory. Anakin would do it.

He was struggling to turn his lightsaber back on and raise it, though getting it between him and the next round of lightning seemed unlikely when he was exposed in a supine position, when Palpatine kicked it. Kicked his hand, actually, so hard at least one bone cracked and the lightsaber went flying.

This weapon is your life.

��Should I summon it back and use it to kill you?” Palpatine murmured, with a deadly, vicious good humor that suggested he knew very well Obi-wan had no backup coming, that the only interruption they could expect would be Commander Fox and his men in red, here to protect the Chancellor. “Or should I step on your throat until you breathe your last? Or should I keep you alive and put you on trial, and drag the name of the Jedi in the mud through you, so that when your Order falls it will be your name that the Galaxy uses to call the killing just?”

Horror twisted in Obi-wan’s chest and Palpatine chuckled, a whispering foul sound that still resembled his polite politician’s laughter. “Yes, very good. I’ll make young Skywalker believe you tried to kill me out of pride and greed and because you despised him, until he curses your memory. Everything that happens now will be your doing.”

The rage and the fear that he had left behind when he entered were flaming up now in Obi-wan, the orbit deteriorating, the gravitational pull of abandoning them and letting the Order down and ruining everything and too little, too proud, the same hopeless arrogant padawan and of that terrible, world-tearing no dragging him down to shatter in fire against them, like he had on Naboo all those years ago but so much more utterly and irrevocably and--this wasn’t all him.

He sucked in his breath, shaking through teeth still clenched too convulsively tight to pull apart for a witty retort to all that poison, and melted away inside himself.

Over him, Sidious frowned, feeling the Jedi escape his grip in the Force. “Are you dying already, Master Kenobi?”

He thought Sidious had mentioned summoning his lightsaber through the Force to encourage him to try it. It wouldn’t be impossible. He knew the feel of it in the Force like he did few other things in the Galaxy; he didn’t need sight to reach for it.

But it was too small, and too far away, and his senses were too scorched and blasted by that awful lightning. Long before his weapon could make it to his hand, Sidious could kill him, even with no working lightsaber of his own. He couldn’t win that way, or even (that far lesser goal) live.

Instead, Obi-wan grabbed for the closest large object he knew to look for that wasn’t a corpse: the sliced-loose upper half of that baroque monstrosity of a desk-chair, conveniently bulky and only a few long steps away, just behind the desk he’d fallen from behind.

It came, and in coming swept Palpatine’s legs from under him, knocking him not quite sprawling, and then the curve of it had smacked into Obi-wan’s outstretched left palm, jolting the broken bone which did not matter in the slightest, and he rolled up onto his knees, graceless but fast, the slab of steel and leather still moving with the momentum that had dragged it to him, and clobbered the sitting-up Sith Lord across the face with it.

One of Obi-wan’s many faults was his tendency to take a vicious glee in striking low his enemies, but he did not think he had ever taken quite the joy from any beautifully executed maneuver that he did from watching Palpatine knocked to the floor by a slab of office chair. Obi-wan lunged after him, not bothering with niceties like getting to his feet, and brought the chair-slab down on his face again, this time with the strength of both arms—his right hand was mostly numb but for hurting, only the thumb and forefinger would move at all, and it was very weak, but none of that interfered with placing his whole forearm against the upholstery and slamming the searing-hot, bare metal inner side down.

There was a crunch, probably nose, and then instead of diminishing the awful seething presence of the Dark Side rose like a hurricane, and Obi-wan felt his throat close as from a powerful phantom hand, cutting off all breathing.

This caused him not an instant’s hesitation, because he had come here fully intending to die.

He raised the sheered-off slice of chair, adjusted the angle so the sharp edge where he’d cut the durasteel was pointing down, and aimed for the throat.

The ensuing explosion threw him after his lightsaber, and he knew nothing after hitting the wall.

#star wars #my writing #obi wan kenobi #fanfic #darth sidious #blows up on dying #it's canon #i feel like this wasn't #quite the intended timeline #but anyway here we are #chairdeath au #i gotta logic things #hoc est meum #i love a fight scene #i wanted to make this one more acrobatic than it is #but logistics intervened

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

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Title: and I told the world Summary: Padmé is pregnant, Anakin is the father,” Obi-Wan replied and held up his bottle of Serenno wine. Or, Obi-Wan and the realization that Anakin is going to be a father at an age Obi-Wan wasn't even a Knight. AN: More light fix-it verse! Tackling the anidala verse.

The Temple was eerily silent as Obi-Wan walked through its halls. Not many Jedi were on Coruscant right now and the number of nocturnal Jedi was even lower. He was thankful for the quiet, unsure how well he’d handle a conversation right now. Someone’s kind fussing would eventually lead to Obi-Wan needing to confront the fact that Anakin’s last steps into adulthood had been done on bloodied battlefields, far away from him.

He reached his destination without a single interruption and soon found himself knocking against a familiar door. Years ago, even before the war, he might have hesitated to act so boldly over an issue that wasn’t even truly one and could have waited until morning. Fortunately, Obi-Wan was a member of the Council and had learned that not one member of it kept regular hours. As expected, the door opened and Mace stood in its entrance, looking as put-together as on a Benduday afternoon. He blinked, equally non-plussed about Obi-Wan’s appearance, his expression just a bit questioning. Obi-Wan ought to be sleeping, he’d just gotten home from a rather gruesome campaign, but he hadn’t been able to fall asleep after getting Anakin’s hysteric call.

“Obi-Wan, what can I do for you?” Mace asked.

“Padmé is pregnant, Anakin is the father,” Obi-Wan replied and held up his bottle of Serenno wine. It was an expensive gift from Dooku to Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan had meant to open it or smash it so many times but never ended up deciding on either course of action.

Now he finally knew what to do with it.

Mace closed his eyes and Obi-Wan thought he could hear a curse pass his lips, then the older Master stepped aside and let Obi-Wan inside.

He’d been in Mace’s quarters often enough that they were familiar to him. Shelves with plants and books covered the walls. Many of them were on various meditation techniques from across the entire galaxy. In one corner, his contrabass was starting to collect dust from months of no usage. Obi-Wan’s thoughts returned to his own violin, resting in its case in the corner of his wardrobe. Despite the dust on the instrument, the wall covered by trinkets and gifts of Padawans and thankful people alike was as pristine as always.

Obi-Wan sat down at the living room table as Mace returned with two wine glasses. Obi-Wan poured their glasses full and emptied his in one go. It was a very dry red wine, bitter too. Qui-Gon would have disliked it; Obi-Wan hated it.

Still, it seemed appropriate for the given situation.

“So,” Mace said, wetting his lips. “Care to repeat that first statement again?”

“Anakin called me about three hours ago,” Obi-Wan started. “He was frazzled. I thought it was because of his mission, but instead I learn that the cause for his distress is the message he got from Padmé about ten minutes before he called me.”

“Which, I assume, was of her informing Anakin that she is pregnant.”

“Yes.”

It had been a short text message. Anakin had read it out to him thrice in varying degrees of emotional turmoil, from cheerful excitement to bone-chilling terror. From the way he spoke, it had been clear to Obi-Wan that Anakin’s first instinct, before even attempting to sort through his emotions on his own, had been to call Obi-Wan. While it warmed him to know that Anakin trusted him so much and sought his support, Obi-Wan could have done without needing to calm Anakin down when he was still so unsettled himself.

Mace sighed. “Is Senator Amidala going to visit the Temple Healers tomorrow then?”

“Today,” Obi-Wan corrected absentmindedly. It was already far past midnight and Obi-Wan liked to try to keep track of time. It didn’t necessarily make the days spent in the trenches easier, but it ensured he didn’t totally lose contact with reality and got lost in the war. “And no, she won’t. She is currently on Alderaan, visiting Queen Breha, and I don’t think Anakin told her to visit the Healers here after. I’ll tell him or message her directly, perhaps.”

The entire situation was surreal.

His Padawan was going to become a father.

At his age, Obi-Wan hadn’t even thought about teaching a Padawan someday, had three years still until Anakin would be sleeping curled up next to him.

“We have to provide an alibi,” Mace stated. “If the public catches wind of why Senator Amidala is visiting the Temple, the situation is bound to escalate beyond our control.”

And that was putting it nicely. Padmé and Anakin’s relationship was a bit of an open secret in the Temple and among Padmé’s guards, but the public could not be allowed to learn of it. Padmé’s integrity would be doubted, each and every decision the Order made regarding Naboo since the Trade Federation’s invasion would be questioned. The Centrist faction would demand that Padmé lose her seat in the Senate. The balance between the Jedi and the government was already fragile and complicated enough without a scandal of this size threatening to throw everything into discord.

It wasn’t even as if Anakin were unaware of the danger.

No, Master, we’re not going to do anything stupid.

Well, stupid just happened.

Obi-Wan massaged his temples, feeling the pressure behind his forehead build up. Either his migraine was returning at full force – not unsurprising in these circumstances – or he was due for a particularly unpleasant vision.

Or maybe it was just the alcohol.

“And if Padmé won’t leave the Senate, and we honestly can’t afford her to leave, Anakin will have to leave the Order. Keeping an affair under wraps is one thing, but a child?” That wasn’t going to end pretty.

“The war comes closer to its end with every passing day,” Mace said. “Senator Amidala is well-trained and everyone close enough to Anakin to know can keep their mouth shut for a few more months. How far along is the Senator?”

“Three months.”

Which left them with six to end the war and let Anakin and Padmé decide which path they’d take after. Obi-Wan emptied his glass once more.

Anakin would be a father in six months.

Kriff.

His horror must show on his face because Mace readily refilled his glass but kept his own empty. One of them should keep their wits about themselves and Obi-Wan certainly wasn’t going to be it.

“Do you want me to help you come up with excuses for the Senator, keep you from emptying this bottle on your own, or listen to you talk some more?” Mace asked after a long silence.

Obi-Wan was a good orator, he didn’t need any help spinning a story, and he could drink much more than just one bottle of wine before he truly needed someone to keep an eye on him.

“I don’t know the first thing about newborns,” Obi-Wan said, choosing the third option.

This was not the most conventional way for a lineage to grow, but theirs wasn’t exactly one to do things by the book necessarily. And, beyond wanting politics to stay out of their business, Obi-Wan wanted to be there for his family. Anakin had lived half in his mind for over a decade now. Even days’ travel away, shields locked tight, Obi-Wan could still feel the other half of his soul.

Regardless of what the parents-to-be chose, Anakin and Obi-Wan were still Jedi and their Order raised its children in a loving community. And if that could not happen in the Temple, Obi-Wan was sure that nobody would mind if he took a few years off once this blasted war ended.

Mace smiled. “Then I suggest you learn.”

#obi wan kenobi #mace windu #anakin skywalker #padmé amidala #anidala #star wars #fanfic #light fix it verse

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likeholymary · 3 years

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— one with the force

the phantom menace i: 1.8k words

AU: What if the Clone Wars never happened, but instead Darth Sidious cast aside the Rule of Two, forging a new way for the Sith and began amassing an army of Sith warriors to overthrow the Jedi and the Republic?

A/N: hello friends! so, i actually posted part one for this series a few days ago, but ultimately decided it wasn’t how i wanted to start this series. i also just don’t want to have to write for the entirety of the phantom menace, lol. however, Rhea’s story will still be the same, a young padawan just abandoned by her master, Dooku, who has left the Jedi Order to chase his families fortune. she still grew up with Obi-Wan, and hopefully we will delve some more into their past together as younglings soon:) this chapter will take place towards the end of the phantom menace, so we will be quickly be on chapters with bearded Obi-Wan!! please comment any thoughts or ideas you would like me to incorporate into the story! reblog if you’d like, and comment below if you want to be added to the tag list i will be starting very soon! again, thank you all for reading!

warnings: angst. mentions of abandonment.

She had once had such future, such promise, and now, she felt as though she were nothing. Being abandoned as a padawan was not something many Jedi experienced often, if at all, and yet here she was, the third padawan of her master, abandoned, alone.

Master Dooku had left so quickly that twenty-one year old Rhea did not have much time to process what the cause could be. She supposed she should call him Count Dooku now. Her nose wrinkled at the thought. What was once a great Jedi Master, was now a man who had wealth beyond measure and power that was rarely attainable.

Had it been her fault? What had she done to have failed him, to cause him to leave the Jedi Order he so dearly loved? She asked the question so many times, but she knew it was better to not reflect on the situation so selfishly.

Surely, it could not be entirely her fault. She recalled how he seemed to wane in the Force, his light turning into a flickering speck over the course of the past few years she had known him. What power he had as a Jedi that once blazed soon became disillusioned, something she could feel each time they spared or sat on the brig of their ship while on mission. He had retreated, growing into something she no longer knew, and when he left it should not have come to such a shock.

But she could not forget the fatherly affection he had for her, the kind eyes he would spare her in the library while she studied tirelessly over the Jedi prophecies and scripts of old.

She could not forget his encouragement, nor his sarcastic tone, nor the way he would lift her up and direct her in the ways of the Force so brilliantly so much so that she felt like some chosen creature, blessed to be taught by such a master.

She could not forget the attachment she held to him, and how it was slowly severed as he began to drift away from the Jedi.

And now, it had ended. Now she knew why the Jedi did not allow attachments.

Rhea Illyria tried to catch her breath but the brilliant purple lightsaber of Master Windu came rushing towards her head, and she quickly had to block it from severing it off from her shoulders.

“Concentrate, Illyria! Your heart betrays you. Let go of your attachments. Focus on the present or fail.”

With her lightsaber still above her and blocking Windu, she closed her eyes, breathing through her nose. Focus on the present or fail. Let go.

Releasing the breath through her mouth, she pushed forward with her saber against Master Windu’s, watching as he stumbled back a few steps before raising her blue lightsaber once more to clash with his.

Master Mace Windu was to train her for the foreseeable future until she was to have her trials. Despite her feelings of confusion, she actually hoped that this could mean her trials would come sooner, that she was one step closer to becoming a Jedi Knight. After all, she had been practically born in the Jedi temple, having no home of her own, having only been a babe who was dropped off on the steps of the temple on a summers day in the pouring rain. The Jedi were the only family she had ever known.

As the new master and apprentice continued to spar, Mace’s comm link beeped, signaling a meeting with the council.

“Jinn and Kenobi must have returned from Naboo. Our lesson is done for the day, my young apprentice.”

Rhea bowed her head respectfully, but also to hide the growing smile on her face. She was glad to see Master Windu jog out of the training area, as he grin began to stretch at the thought of seeing her old friend Obi-Wan Kenobi.

She and Obi-Wan had been in the same youngling clan together. The spent time together, side-by-side training in the art of the lightsaber, meditating on the mysteries of the force, sneaking off to steal baked goods from the pantries, and had lived life together as the best of friends. However, this did not mean that the two were entirely the same, and in fact they often got in trouble for causing trouble, often bickering with one another or just creating some sort of ruckus.

This quickly changed when they became padawans.

Although in his youth a willful-rebel, Obi-Wan quickly became disciplined, determined to follow the rules and make his master proud. Rhea, already a force of nature and dutiful, was placed with Master Dooku, who guided her more deeply in the knowledge of the Force.

Rhea was elated, and could not wait to see the boy from Stewjon, who she could not recall the last time she had seen, but the presence of who she could always feel.

She slowly began to make her way towards the Council’s chambers, crossing through the temple gardens and through a case of stairs, hoping to make it just as the meeting concluded. Rhea made her way through the hall, before nestling herself between one of the pillars close to the doors.

Rhea could feel him in the Council room, the anxiety rolling off of him at his masters words. Something about a boy... Whatever it was, she could feel him growing more tense and frustrated as the situation progressed. It only lessened for a moment, and it was almost as if she could feel him breathing beside her.

It was then that the Council doors swung open and Qui Gon Jinn exited with his padawan trailing behind him. They talked in hushed voices outside the doors, slowly walking in her direction. Moving from behind the pillar, she nodded at Master Jinn as she came into their view.

“Master Qui Gon, I am glad to see you returned safely from your mission.”

“Young Rhea, it is good to see your face once again. I am sorry to hear about our Master,” He commented lightly.

“Yes, it was quite unexpected but I suppose it was the will of the Force.” She paused, taking a silent breath before asking, “Could I perhaps speak with Obi-Wan?”

Qui Gon was not surprised in the slightest. He remembered on the night of his padawan’s Initiate Trials how closely he was to a small girl with brown pigtails and olive toned skin. He remembered how fierce the girl was, how she never once faltered in the ways of the Force. And how she surpassed him as their Master’s apprentice, something which shocked him, considering how he assumed Dooku would never take on another padawan. But he seemed to have a special interest in this youngling girl, whereas Qui Gon soon began to feel weighed down by the ways of his padawan. Obi-Wan was his complete opposite in every way, and did not have the same relation his former master and he had.

“Go on, young ones. Obi-Wan, I will see you later this evening at the Council meeting.”

“Yes, master.”

Rhea and Obi-Wan began to walk side by side down the hall, as Qui Gon went the other way. Taking a look behind their shoulders and seeing that his master was gone, Obi-Wan turned to Rhea and engulfed her in such a warm embrace. The girl sighed, taking in the scent of his freshly washed robes as well as the warmth emitting from him.

“I missed you so much.”

Obi-Wan pulled back slightly, giving her his signature cheeky grin. “Oh really? Are you sure? Because I quite remember you saying you couldn’t wait for me to leave on my next assignment the last time we saw one another.”

She playfully shoved his shoulder, and began to walk away, but he simply began to follow in step, slinging an arm around her shoulder like old friends do.

“It’s not my fault you can be so aggravating. Especially when you’re being competitive.”

“Hey, I totally won that sparring match!”

“You cheated! We agreed not to use the Force, simply testing our abilities with a saber.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I would have beat you either way.”

“And why do I highly doubt that?” Her eyes looked up to meet his, an eyebrow raised in a cocky attitude, but she couldn’t help the smile that creeped upon her face. A friendly silence sat between them.

“Care to take a stroll in the gardens, old man?”

“Only with you, dearest.”

Rhea let out an airy chuckle at that. It was the nickname he had so kindly doted upon her as younglings, he at the tender age of twelve and she at the age of eight. The two were bickering about something, who knows what now. However, in the heat of the argument he groaned in frustration when she compared them to sounding like some old married couple.

“Well, fine then, dearest. Why don’t we end this nonsense and retire for the evening?” It had only been three in the afternoon, causing the two to burst into a fit of laughter which ended their nonsensical debate.

The garden looked exceptional that warm afternoon, the sun shining above, casting rays of light that in turn cast shadows from the leaves through the branches. Rhea took in the meadowy scents from the flowers all around them, smiling at the willow tree that they would always sit beneath, either talking or laughing, sharing tears or a stolen pastry. It was peaceful. It was home.

“Why did Master Dooku leave?”

Obi-Wan was never the type to sly away from the obvious. He could feel Rhea’s fear, her confusion. It was a ripple in the Force, growing as each day passed and something he no longer could ignore. It was always so strange how easily he could feel her emotions from parsecs away, but in an even more mysterious way, he felt comforted knowing how his dearest was doing.

Rhea shook her head, turning away from him to stare at the starflowers nearby. “I-I don’t know. I’m so unsure of what reason he could possibly have to leave the Order. It was his life. He was one of the most brilliant Jedi I ever knew, and he abandoned it. He abandoned—”

“He abandoned you.”

She only nodded in response.

“Rhea, look at me.”

When she did not turn, he gently grabbed her chin and turned her face to look in his cerulean eyes. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t fail. If anything, I believe Dooku failed the Order and himself. But most importantly he failed you. He left you at the height of your training. You are no less worthy of becoming a Jedi because of his failures and weaknesses.”

And she fell right into his arms, silent tears pouring down her face. “Thank you, Ben.”

Although she couldn’t see it, Obi-Wan was glad his face was tucked into her dark hair, so she could not see the blush that boomed across his cheeks at the mention of her coined nickname for him. Instead of being like hers, his was only used between them in moments like this, moments of honesty, kindness, friendship.

But to Obi-Wan, it always felt like something more.

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gffa · 6 years

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Guess who’s crying because STAR WARS is full of feelings again? ALL OF US, THAT’S WHO. This is another collection designed to have at least a little something for almost everyone, whether you’re here for a ship or a certain era of the Saga or the greater SW tapestry, whether you want to cry about Anakin Skywalker or want to keep crying about the Rebels, whether you’re here for Leia Organa feelings or just want to roll around in a time travel that will hopefully eventually fix everything, there should hopefully be at least one fic that appeals! Star Wars fandom is so good at providing things to read (so much so that I still have at least a dozen novel-length fics on my reader that I haven’t even been able to start yet!) and so many of them are so, so worth your time to read. Bless all the authors making it even better to be a fan of this ridiculous series about space wizards and aliens and smugglers and good kids doing their best against an evil regime that wants to crush everyone! STAR WARS FIC RECS: TIME TRAVEL RECS: ✦ Drifting Starlight by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 60.3k Just before the fateful Battle of Naboo, Qui-Gon Jinn is brought to the future, to the Clone Wars. He doesn’t know why or how, but he knows one thing for sure: He never, in a million years, expected the galaxy to end up like this. ✦ The Dark Path Lit by Sun and Stars by A_Delicate_Fury, obi-wan & luke & leia & han & cast, time travel, 33.8k wip After a disaster on the cosmic scale that Obi-Wan is still trying to wrap his mind around, he finds himself back in the early days of the Clone Wars, Commander Cody loyally at his side, Anakin at his back, and Sidious plotting against the Jedi at every turn. ✦ Death, Yet The Force (so rise and shine) by EclipseMidnight (EternalEclipse), obi-wan & mace & tahl & cin drallig & qui-gon & depa & cast, time travel, 14.9k In which the most eclectic group of time travelers wake up in 949 ARR (51 BBY) and attempt to unravel what the Force wants them to do and begin to take the necessary steps to ensure the survival of the Jedi in the future ✦ In Time by Ripki, obi-wan & anakin, time travel, 23.6k wip When a mysterious holocron sends [Obi-Wan and Anakin] through time, they don’t only have to confront their past and future – but the present as well. ✦ Worldwalker by rainglazed, ezra & kanan & cast, time travel, 25.5k wip Time travel AU where Ezra Bridger meets Caleb Dume the day after Order 66. ✦ twin suns by tripletmoons, obi-wan & cast, time travel, 1.5k Obi-Wan Kenobi is six years old when he meets Ben. It goes like this: he falls asleep in the Temple and wakes up in the sand. PREQUELS RECS: ✦ So, How Was My Funeral? by Ibelin, obi-wan & anakin & yoda & mace, 5k “Obi-Wan, I need you to know two things. First, I love you so much.” Anakin looked his master in the eye, demanding full acknowledgment. “And second, I am going to kill you.” ✦ Though Lovers Be Lost by panharmonium, obi-wan & cast, 4.5k When they tell stories about his life, will they speak of loss or love? You cannot have one without the other, after all. ✦ Catechin by ambiguously, mace & depa, 2.1k Three times Mace Windu and Depa Billaba took tea together. ✦ untitled by swhurtcomfort, obi-wan & anakin, 1.7k Anonymous asked: Hey, can I request an Obi-Wan with a bad fever getting taken care of by Anakin who is too stubborn to admit hes also sick? ✦ Old Sins Cast Long Shadows by zarabithia, ahsoka & obi-wan & anakin & padme (& building background obi-wan/padme), 12.8k wip In this universe, when Palpatine asks if Anakin is going to kill him, Anakin does. While Anakin ultimately wins, it costs him his life. In this universe, the twins are raised by Ahsoka, Padmé, and Obi-Wan. ✦ We Will Abide by naberiie, plo & shaak, 10.3k Light. Dark. Balance. Beneath the Jedi Temple, far below the chaos of Coruscant’s Galactic City, ancient halls and corridors sleep in silent darkness. Padawans Shaak Ti and Plo Koon are determined to explore them. ✦ memories like ashes at our feet by ambiguously, anakin & ahsoka, 4.2k Darth Vader was gravely injured in the explosion of the Sith Temple. Now Anakin Skywalker has no memory of what he’s doing here with Ahsoka. ✦ valley of the shadow by darlingargents, obi-wan & luminara (& barriss), 1.6k In which Luminara finds out. ✦ Queen of Peace by Sassaphrass, obi-wan & padme & cast (background anakin/padme), 20.2k Padmé Amidala lives. Democracy is dead, The Jedi are Dead, and her beloved husband Anakin Skywalker is dead. But, Padmé is still alive. Her children are still alive. And maybe, just maybe, there is still hope. So, she’ll just have to keep going, and pray that someday all these terrible sacrifices will have been worth it. ✦ The Mathematics of Repair by panharmonium, obi-wan & anakin, 4.6k For raw teachers and rough-edged students building in the rubble: tiny steps are enough, provided they carry you in the right direction. Immediately post TPM, in short snippets. ✦ Scavenged Parts of Broken Hearts by crowleyshouseplant, mace & paxi, 3.1k Paxi Sylo meets Mace Windu a second time. ✦ On the Third Day by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & bail & breha & leia, 3.4k Vader’s patience has run out. ✦ Nothing by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & dooku, ~1k A single split-second decision changes everything. ✦ A Ghost’s Embrace by AceQueenKing, shmi & padme & leia, 1.4k Shmi Skywalker watches over her granddaughter, but she isn’t alone. ✦ Space Twins by glorious_clio, obi-wan & luke & leia & bail, 1.1k Obi-Wan is tasked with bringing Luke to Tatooine. For his part, Bail brings Leia home to Breha. ✦ Eternal Darkness by Darth_Vodka, jedi & cast (& jocasta), 5k When the newly anointed Darth Vader leads the 501st Legion to the Jedi Temple to execute Order 66, a last ditch effort to preserve the Jedi Order has unintended consequences. ✦ these little things called pyrrhic victories by RestlessWanderings, obi-wan & anakin, 3.6k Or, the one where Obi-Wan follows Yoda’s orders and kills Anakin, which changes some things but leaves others the same. ✦ Tag by Imadra Blue, obi-wan & yoda, ~1k A three-year-old Obi-Wan follows Master Yoda around the Temple. ✦ See No Evil by GirlwithCurls98, ahsoka & anakin & yoda & cast, 9.7k wip When Ahsoka suffers a head injury, she loses something she thought would always be there. With the help of her friends, she learns how to adapt to her new reality, and how she can use it to her advantage, all while searching for a cure. ✦ A First Time for Everything by Ossian, obi-wan & anakin, 1.1k Post-TPM, Obi-Wan and Anakin find a connection ✦ Time to Go by JediShampoo, obi-wan/padme & cast, 4.9k Obi-Wan is leaving Alderaan and taking Luke with him. He and Padme must say their goodbyes. Stuff happens. ✦ An Interlude (The Passing of Some Days) by victoria_p (musesfool), obi-wan & leia & bail/breha, 1k Bail makes some calls. ✦ buy a dog by panharmonium, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 2.4k You ask of my companions. Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog as large as myself that my father bought me. They are better than human beings, because they know but do not tell. -Dickinson OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ Titles, Traditions, and Other Forms of Attachment by MarchofBirds, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 25.5k Or: How Anakin’s relationship to the term “Master” changes throughout different stages of his life. ✦ Both Deserve Happiness by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k The Republic falls, but Anakin doesn’t. Together, Obi-Wan and Anakin lead the hunt to find Palpatine. Eventually, they have to face the fact that their relationship has changed. ✦ Tumblr Prompt Drabbles by Adelphrexia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.5k wip (sort of) A collection of Obikin drabble requests originally posted on my Tumblr. Mostly smut, any warnings will be posted on the chapter they apply to. ✦ Lucky me by orphan_account, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, hooker au, 1.9k Anakin might never have been found by the Jedi, Obi-Wan and he still are lucky enough to meet each other. ✦ Cuddle by Captain Starseeker, obi-wan/anakin, 1k When having a rough, over worked day, it’s nice to just sit down and cuddle with your loved one. ObiAni fluff ✦ Yes, Master by Little Green Voice, obi-wan/anakin, 12.1k It wasn’t only the words. It was the way they were said. And, if he was completely honest, it was also a little the words. Not so much about the ‘yes’ though, as it was about the “Master”. ✦ Pursuit by Icse, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, modern au, 16.3k wip Ben Kenobi wasn’t interested in taking on a working student, […] still, he can recognize talent when he sees it and agrees to take on Anakin as his working student. He certainly didn’t plan on falling for him. ✦ Tagalongs by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia, modern au, 3.4k Leia has cookies to sell, and her father is along for the ride. Had he known that someone as handsome as Obi-Wan Kenobi was going to purchase some, Anakin might have taken more than five minutes to get dressed. ✦ Naughty Padawans by salixbabylon, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking, 1.4k Obi-Wan, completely fed up with his padawan, tries something definitely *not* in the Master’s Handbook. ✦ Secret Fire by ambiguously, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 2.7k Masters, especially human masters, would sometimes take their young students aside and offer them this experience. It was perfectly normal. ORIGINAL TRILOGY RECS: ✦ As Old As Rhyme by ambiguously, padme & luke, ~1k Every night, someone sits next to Luke on his bed and sings a lullabye in a low voice in a language he doesn’t know. ✦ The Belonging You Seek by WiliQueen, luke & leia & ahsoka & cast, 30.9k wip A chance discovery gives Luke and Leia a glimpse into who Anakin was, and leads them to more than they ever expected. More questions, more answers… and more family. ✦ Hear Me by crowleyshouseplant, anakin & leia & luke & cast, 3.2k Leia struggles to reconcile Luke’s experience with his father and hers with Darth Vader. ✦ Spar by glorious_clio, liea & luke & wedge & han, 3.2k Luke is desperate to learn the ways of the Force. Leia can’t really help him there, but she knows how to wield a blade. REBELS RECS: ✦ Is It Gremlins? by ncfan, sabine & kallus, 8.3k This was not how Sabine expected to spend her afternoon. ✦ pas de deux by glorious_clio, kanan/hera, 1.9k After spending all day in the cockpit, and with one more chore to complete, Hera Syndulla feels the urge to move. But even a simple moment can come with a hangup or two. Luckily, she has a supportive partner. ✦ Celestial Navigation by ambiguously, zeb/kallus, 1.7k Kallus doesn’t understand why Zeb’s not sad. ✦ Bank of Coals by Eclectic_Goddess, kanan/hera & ezra, 1.4k “You should get some rest.” “I’m fine.” “That would be more convincing if you could keep your eyes open when you said it.” ✦ The Joy of Nescience by ambiguously, kanan & depa & ahsoka/rex, 2.1k Three times Kanan Jarrus did not want to know. ✦ Symbios by bam_cassiopeia, ahsoka & sabine & aphra, 4.1k Sabine and Ahsoka go on a quest for a boy and his purrgils. ✦ An Unexpected Encounter by codenametargeter, kanan/hera & hondo & katooni, 2k It’d been enough of a surprise when Ahsoka Tano had turned out to be alive. Kanan definitely wasn’t expecting to find another member of the Jedi Order so soon and definitely not amongst Hondo Ohnaka’s pirate gang. SOLO RECS: ✦ Feelings Are a Luxury and This is War by igrockspock, han/qi'ra, 1.3k Feelings are a luxury Qi'Ra can’t afford. ✦ tell me, get my shit together by paperclipbitch, han/lando & chewbacca & cast, solo spoilers, 5.3k “I thought we were actively avoiding each other after the Trandosha Shitshow,” Han says. “We’re actively avoiding each other after the Iridonia Shitshow,” Lando corrects him, “the Trandosha Shitshow is That Which We Do Not Speak Of.” ✦ Falcon Heart by crowleyshouseplant, lando & l3, solo spoilers, 3k Lando is reunited with an old friend. SEQUELS RECS: ✦ Relax and Fly Casual by igrockspock, han & ben & cast, 4.1k A father-son smuggling trip is not the kind of quality time Ben had in mind. ✦ each offering of tenderness by victoria_p (musesfool), rey & leia & finn & poe & chewbacca & rose & r2-d2, 3.1k “I can fix it,” Rey insists. “I can fix anything.” ✦ Waste Management by shadydave, leia & rey & finn & poe & rose, 10.4k “Uh, hi,” says Finn. “We’re here to rescue you?” FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE!

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princesssarcastia · 4 years

Text

learning to live with it

hello, I’m back for the third night in a row with more weird ass star wars fic from this one universe i’m slowly expanding.

in which obi-wan is straight-up not having a good time, and all his friends aren’t dead, this time, but they sure did high-tail it away from the order coruscant him the second they could. also in which obi-wan and padmé are FRIENDS GODDAMMIT. (spoiler: there is a sappy ending to this one, it’s not just angst)

part 3 of ?, also on ao3, if you prefer

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Obi-Wan doesn’t meet the twins until months after their birth.

—

The moment he arrived on Coruscant after everything on Utapau—with the 212th trailing behind him in waves because he hadn’t even spoken to Cody before the urgency in the living and unifying Force, united and tearing at him like loth-wolves, drove him into his fighter—he rushed to the Temple just in time to meet Mace and Ahsoka…and Anakin.

After it all spilled out of them, in fits and starts between the Temple hangar and the halls of healing; Maul and Ahsoka and Palpatine and Anakin and Palpatine’s last, desperate attempt to reach him commlink, the mystery of who he could call for support hanging over their heads—

Except for his many, many trips to the Senate rotunda, where he gives in to the urge to verbally savage every Senator that gets in his way, he doesn’t…leave it. The Temple.

He just hits a wall. It’s finally too much.

Ahsoka and Maul.

Anakin and Palpatine.

Years of being denied the sanctity of his home for more than a week at a time, months and months apart, push him to hole up and dig his heels in. If any senator or commander or lesser general wants to speak to him, they can very well come to him, or fuck off, because if they can’t deign to do that it can’t be that important.

Anakin delivers his resignation to the High Council mere hours before he departs Coruscant entirely—ostensibly for Naboo, though his frequent meetings with Rex, Cody, Aayla, Bly, Plo Koon and Wolffe, among others, build a suspicion in the back of Obi-Wan’s mind that he does them the courtesy of ignoring.

Padmé leaves with him.

Ahsoka leaves days after that, on some relief mission for Bail Organa, having apparently been knighted by Yoda and Yoda alone. Another one of their traditions dead and gone, then. Another piece of their culture denied to them by the effects of three years of utterly pointless conflict.

Mace wanders through the Temple like a silent guardian, grief and terrible truths lying in wait in his eyes, but he rarely speaks of them. He rarely speaks at all, still contemplating some revelation the end of the war and destruction of the Sith has afforded him. His silence has certainly been noticed by the other members of the High Council, and the senators who expend the effort to pay particular attention to the Head of the Order. At some point, Depa and Caleb take to wandering the Temple with him, towering pillars of support.

Quinlan left before he ever really came back, unable to comprehend reverting to the way things were, three years and entire lifetimes ago.

So…so many of them never came back at all. So many faces Obi-Wan will never see again. Some names, he has to search in the Temple records to discover their fate, because a dead Jedi became such a common occurrence that there are those who slipped through the grasp of his memory.

His master, and his master’s master, and his padawan, all gone.

When the clones defect—defect, they haven’t gone to the other side, they’ve simply decided that with no war to fight, the government that bought their lives and deaths had no say in their future. It’s not like there even is or ever was an “other side,” no matter what the shattered remains of the CIS parliament like to claim. When they leave, when they claim their freedom, it isn’t a surprise. Not in the least because Anakin never met a subtle bone in his body he didn’t want to break.

Cody sends him a message with coordinates, “just in case.” And then, nothing.

Nothing.

Obi-Wan meditates in his rooms and walks through the Temple Gardens and visits the Senate whenever they build to some sort of obstinance in their proceedings he feels the need to quash personally or some senator believes the Jedi or the GAR have something to answer for.

If anyone wants to see him, that’s what he’ll be doing. They can come find him.

—

Padmé came to him. Back on Coruscant two months after the twins’ birth—and it was twins, he knows that much, at least—a whole month before she claimed she would return her duties when she left, and eight months before Naboo would have even though to ask it of her; to the surprise of not a single soul she’s ever met.

After a week of delivering impassioned speeches in the Senate, meeting with almost every member of the opposition to gauge their thoughts on how rebuilding was going, and, if Obi-Wan knows her at all, quietly inquiring after the potential candidates for a new Supreme Chancellor, she appears out of nowhere at the Temple’s entrance, demanding to be let in to see him.

Security at the Temple is…fraught. The bombing made their wartime policies even more stringent, and they haven’t relaxed them yet; even a galactic senator can’t enter without a Jedi to sponsor it.

She’s dressed discreetly, too, in a vaguely familiar vest that’s clearly made of the Naboo’s answer to armorweave. There are no visible weapons on her person, but he has no doubt she’s armed, even here.

“Obi-Wan,” she says warmly, grasping his hand tightly when he reaches out to greet her.

“Padmé,” he returns, dipping his head.

“Shall we?” She says, turning somehow, inexorably, in the direction of his quarters, far away as they are, as a kind of hint.

He raises a brow, “Indeed,” and takes it, letting her lead them out of amused curiosity, and wondering when she had the time to memorize any part of the Temple’s layout. Her capacity to do so, he has no doubt of; nor her ability to gain access to those records.

Tea is offered and accepted, and with the opening ritual complete, everything left unsaid between them fills the air to the point of tension.

Padmé wraps her hands around her mug and lets out a long, slow sigh, some measure of her composure seeping away.

“How are you, really?” Obi-Wan says softly.

“Well, the afterpains have finally petered off,” Padmé says wryly, giving him a look.

A measure of regret stirs like an ache in his chest. “Congratulations on your children, Padmé; and forgive me for taking this long to express how happy I am for you.”

“Thank you.”

They sit in silence, sipping at their tea, and Obi-Wan wonders if he’ll ever manage to untangle the complicated grief and anger woven around him, a tangled net that pulls and tears with every breath. Wonders if he’ll ever speak to any of these people he holds so dear without the weight of everything they’ve done pressing down on him. All those secrets. All that violence.

“Are we friends?” Padmé asks abruptly, forcing him to meet and hold her gaze with sheer force of will. “I’d like to think that we are, after all this time.”

“I would, too,” Obi-Wan returns, and the ache in his chest throbs. He can’t just say yes, can he? Because it would be a lie, and he’s so tired of lying. He’s so…tired.

She smiles, kind, but sad, because she can see what he isn’t saying. “You are my friend,” Padmé straightens her spine. “And I’m worried about you, Obi-Wan. Staying holed up in the Temple isn’t doing you any favors.”

“Yes, well, running away from it won’t solve any problems, either,” he snaps, and closes his eyes regretfully.

“Is that why you’re angry with me? Because you think I ran away from all the problems here on Coruscant?” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Or is that why you’re angry at Anakin, and you’re just taking it out on me, too?” She says scathingly. But there’s an undercurrent of hurt flowing through the Force around her.

“I never said I was—” no, he swallows that, because he is angry, and he still doesn’t want to lie. Even if it would be kinder. “Yes. Alright, I am angry at the both of you. At the Senate, at Palpatine, and the Order, and Ahsoka, and—Force, I’m just angry, Padmé, all the time, because not a damn thing any of us have done in the last three years seems to matter, anymore. None of it ever mattered!” He doesn’t yell, but he knows his agitation is bleeding from him like an open wound in the Force. “We were all just pawns to him! You, handing him the chancellorship on a platter,” he spits, “Anakin letting himself be led down the path to the dark without saying a Force-dammed word to anyone, and then running away, yes, because Force forbid he ever ask for help! Me, leading an army of enslaved men to their deaths for a contrived political game without ever stopping to consider the larger picture. Dooku was right; Qui-Gon would be so ashamed of me. Of what the Order has become,” he finishes bitterly.

“You think you’re the only one who’s angry?” Padmé leans in, setting her mug aside to wholly pin him in place with her eyes. “The system of government I’ve dedicated my life to is crumbling still, even while we watch. Our ability to govern democratically is slipping through our fingers like so much water, and the one thing—” her voice cracks, and she swallows. “The one thing in my entire life I’ve ever done just because I wanted it, because it felt right, and it made me stronger, and damn the consequences—well. It turns out you can’t damn the consequences after all.” She pushes away from the table and covers her eyes. “Shit. I’m going to go home in another month or two or ten and my children won’t even recognize me, Obi-Wan. Because I have to be here, fixing what we broke.

“If it even can be fixed,” she finishes softly, hand still drawn over her face.

Obi-Wan huffs and tries to lodge the burning in his eyes back underneath that overwhelming fog of exhaustion. “Is it really that bad?”

“We still haven’t elected another Chancellor, and at this point, the Galactic Senate can’t function without one. There are plenty of systems who have more than half a mind to let it all just…crumble back to our planetary foundations.”

“I take it you won’t be suggesting yourself as a candidate?” He tries engaging in politics instead to bury it, a desperate last resort. “I’m sure Anakin, at least, has put the idea forth,” he adds.

She lets her hand drag down her face so as to give him another look. “Yes, and that’s why he’s still on Naboo with our children, instead of here. Naboo cannot lead the Republic again, not after Palpatine kept his seat for so long.”

“Too long,” Obi-Wan mutters into his mug, trying to douse his bitterness with tea. His attempt to flee his feelings is caught in the tangled net they weave, neatly attempting to strangle him. “What about Bail?”

“He would do it, if we asked, but I don’t want to put that on his head.” She tips her head to the side. “Plus, there are any number of former Separatist planets thinking about rejoining the Republic—if it even still exists—that would balk at the idea of a Chancellor from so deep in the core; from a founding member of the Republic.”

“Hmm. That would rule out Senator Mothma as well, then.”

“Yes,” Padmé gives him a small grin. “We need an incorruptible figure who will immediately move to give up the emergency powers we’ve loaded onto the Chancellorship; with no ties to Palpatine, preferably from the Mid Rim, or even the Outer Rim Territories; who furthermore can actually do the job.”

“Yes, that is a bit of a tall order.”

“Honestly, half the reason the Republic is still standing is because the Jedi stepped in to end the war.”

He runs a hand over his jaw slowly. “And the other half is Ahsoka. Perhaps we should ask her opinion on this mess, supposing we could catch her during her brief stop-overs on Coruscant.”

“Obi-Wan,” Padmé chides, with prideprotectionlonging leaking from her like a sieve in the Force.

Silence falls again, and Obi-Wan breathes, in, out; in, out, before topping off both their mugs and leaning away from the table, new warmth leaching into his hands.

The Force nudges his mind. He lets his eyes fall halfway shut, hears: perhaps we should ask her opinion on this mess, feels: a cold so pervasive it sinks into his bones and makes his next exhale visible, sees: a spear struck deep into the ground like a declaration.

Before he can let that premonition crystalize into any real particular insight, Padmé clears her throat. “Obi-Wan, I—” she stops. “I just wanted—” and again. “I’ve missed you, these months. I missed you when the twins were born, and I think I still miss you now even when you’re right in front of me.” A fiercer kind of longing rises in her, so visceral Obi-Wan can feel it in the back of his own throat. “You are my friend,” she repeats, “and I, I would like it very much if you would come back to Naboo with me and meet my children.”

His lips part uselessly while he searches for something to say. “Padmé, I…”

“I want them to know you,” she plants her demands more certainly in front of him. “And if that means I have to banish my husband to Sola’s house for a week so you can keep hiding from each other, so be it. But you’re my friend, too, and I want them to know you.”

The longing stretches between them, latching onto him until it feels like his own. And maybe it is. He can’t quite picture what that would be like; picture what twin fusions of two of his dearest friends will look like, what holding them in his arms will inspire in him. He doesn’t, overwhelming realization striking him, even know their names, and admits as much.

“Luke,” Padmé smiles reflexively, like the sun breaking through the clouds. “And Leia.”

A sigh of relief floods through the Force around them like a dam driven to bursting, and Obi-Wan blinks back more tears. Second sunset in a familiar-unfamiliar desert. Cool clear mountain air. Burnished hope tucked away to grow unimpeded.

“Luke.” He repeats roughly. “Leia.”

—

Their weight in his arms is devastatingly familiar, somehow, and he loves Anakin and Padmé twice over for creating such incredible beings.

And when they open their eyes and wave their hands and feet in the air, blinding twin presences in the Force reaching for him so delicately, his shields unfurl like solar sails, immediately attuned to them.

A Feeling strikes him. “Oh, I’m in so much trouble,” he breathes down at them, and feels warm with their attention.

Luke coos. Leia burbles back.

“Yes, yes I am,” he says in a stronger, sillier tone, the way all younglings should be spoken to.

Anakin just laughs at him. “That’s just what Ahsoka said.”

Obi-Wan can’t even scrounge up the urge to be cross with him, still enraptured by these tiny beautiful little people. What an excellent shield they’ll make for their idiot father, whenever one of his loved ones could just shake him with frustration.

—

part 1, part 2

#obi-wan kenobi #padmé amidala #honorable mention: beautiful cinnamon rolls luke and leia naberrie #too good for this world too pure #star w #star wars fanfiction #fic #vague galactic politics #also lmk if you figured out who i want to make chancellor #its fucking wild but i stand by it #look obi-wan is very very angry about very many things #and he's right to be #his whole goddamn life has been kind of traumatic #the war is just the latest bit #but he's gotta admit it to himself before he can get anywhere close to better #also talk to me about dutiful 'leader of an entire planet at 14' padmé #who marries a guy she's known for less than a month total #in a whirlwind secret romance #and then wants to settle down and have babies and raise them with him #except...for how she also wants to create a lasting strong democracy #sometimes these things fit together #sometimes they clash #its A Lot #force visions #sorta

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songlordsbug · 7 years

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Bearing a Lesson Part 13

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

That evening, as Qui-Gon settled into his assigned quarters on the transport, he reluctantly admitted to himself that standard meditation was not helping him with the turmoil he was experiencing, and he might benefit from a deeper style of meditation that let him communicate more directly with his subconscious and the Force. With a resigned sigh, he sank into the first of many meditations he would do that trip.

"We've always had our disagreements, Qui-Gon, but I never took you for an imbecile."

Qui-Gon startled at the sudden sound of his Master's voice, looking around to catch his mental image of Dooku emerging from the shadows.

"And in what way have I proved myself unsatisfactory, Master?" he asked.

"I certainly didn't teach you to ignore the Will of the Force," Master Dooku said, frowning at him.

"I'm not," Qui-Gon objected.

"Ah yes, because when one is one with the Force and at peace with its Will, one always finds oneself in such turmoil," Dooku said, raising a sardonic eyebrow.

"I... perhaps you have a point," Qui-Gon admitted tiredly. "But as I am meditating in order to discover that which I am ignorant of, perhaps you might provide assistance instead of chastisement."

Dooku snorted.

"Plain speaking then, my padawan?" he asked.

Qui-Gon nodded.

"I was no more ready for a Padawan when you came into my life than you are now," Dooku said.

Qui-Gon frowned in confusion, opening his mouth to ask what significance that had.

"But," Dooku said, silencing him with a look, "when the Force slapped me across the face with our training bond, I took you on."

Before Qui-Gon could reply, the other man vanished as he found himself coming out of his meditation.

The next time, Qui-Gon was more prepared for the representation of his Master.

"Obi-Wan and I do not have a training bond," Qui-Gon said levelly as Dooku appeared in front of him.

"You sound quite certain of that, Padawan," Dooku said neutrally, allowing no expression to show what he thought.

"If we did, I would be able to prevent his spirit wanderings," Qui-Gon said.

"A fair point," his Master agreed. "But how do you explain your unique ability to call him back from such wanderings?"

"I- the work I've done with him," Qui-Gon answered.

"Work my own Master has also done. In fact, Yoda has known this boy for years longer than you," Dooku noted.

"Aah- Master Yoda's teachings did not suit-" Qui-Gon stutttered.

"But yours did," Dooku interrupted. "Perhaps you do not share a fully-fledged training bond, but only a fool would deny that the beginnings of one exists between the two of you."

And with that, Dooku disappeared, ending the meditation session and leaving Qui-Gon speechless.

The third time the form of his Master appeared, Qui-Gon's head was bowed and he did not speak.

"I fail to see the point of a meditation like this if you will not speak," Dooku said waspishly after several minutes of silence.

"...whether there could be a training bond between us matters not. I am not fit to be any child's Master, let alone his," Qui-Gon murmured.

"You think any Master truly feels prepared?" Dooku asked.

"Past evidence proves it in my case," Qui-Gon answered.

"Your first Padawan would be offended by that," Dooku noted.

"I barely had any influence on Feemor. I merely polished what another had completed," Qui-Gon argued.

"I doubt he agrees, and perhaps you should ask him how he feels when you return to the Temple," Dooku suggested.

"Whether I can claim any of his success, I still failed-" Qui-Gon choked.

"Xanatos," Dooku said flatly.

Qui-Gon flinched.

"Qui-Gon, it is not your fault," the other man said firmly but gently.

"The Master is responsible for the Padawan," Qui-Gon choked out.

"For the care and teaching of the Padawan. The Padawan is responsible for his own choices," Dooku corrected.

"But I should have seen- should have known- should have done something-" Qui-Gon said, finally looking at his Master with an anguished face.

"Perhaps, or perhaps you did all anyone could, and the only one with the power to change things was your Xan," Dooku said gently, compassion in his dark eyes.

Qui-Gon shook his head in uncertain denial.

"Qui-Gon. Every Master is baffled and confused and shocked by his Padawan. It is the way of things," Dooku smiled slightly. "A lucky few may even count themselves pleased and proud, as I do."

When Qui-Gon went to shake his head again, Dooku glared at him.

"No. You know it to be true. I have told you before," Dooku said, firm but gentle. "Please, padawan mine, do not ruin yourself with this. You must forgive yourself your Padawan's choices."

He faded away after that, leaving Qui-Gon rung out and exhausted.

Interlude

Qui-Gon did not have time to meditate during the three days he was on Levian II. Instead he was swept from event to event as the planet celebrated its entry into the Republic. And expressed its gratitude to him for his help. It was a relief to return to his quarters on the transport and resume his meditations.

He was expecting the figure that stepped out of his shadows to again be his Master. He was not expecting the pale skin, dark hair, and ice blue eyes of his Fallen Padawan.

"Xanatos," Qui-Gon breathed.

"Hello Master," Xanatos said with a small smile.

"Why are you here?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Maybe because you are finally ready to face what happened, Master," Xanatos answered, eyes laughing.

"You Fell," Qui-Gon said brokenly.

"I am," Xanatos agreed solemnly.

"You turned your back on the Order," Qui-Gon said.

"I have," Xanatos agreed.

"I- I loved you," Qui-Gon choked out.

"You do," Xanatos agreed, smiling sweetly. "All facts, my Master."

"I failed you!" Qui-Gon cried out.

"Perhaps. Maybe there was something I needed that you didn't provide," Xanatos said thoughtfully, looking into the distance. "Or perhaps I failed you. Maybe you gave me everything I needed and I was too foolish and blind to see it."

“I... hadn't thought of it like that," Qui-Gons said, blinking.

"I know," Xanatos said, a painfully familiar impish smile on his face. "Does it matter?"

"What? Yes of course! It-" Qui-Gon exclaimed.

"Qui-Gon. I am Fallen. I have turned away from the Order. You love me," Xanatos said, looking him in the eye. "None of these things are changed by where the blame is placed. And we both know that realistically it's more complicated than that."

"Is it?" Qui-Gon asked tiredly, looking at his Fallen Padawan.

"The Jedi Order is a flawed institution," Xanatos said, giving Qui-Gon an exasperated look. "Perhaps the changes your boy is bringing will prevent others from having my difficulties."

"He is not my boy," Qui-Gon protested.

"You do neither of us nor the boy justice when you deny it," Xanatos said, rolling his eyes and vanishing.

"What did you mean that I did none of us justice," Qui-Gon asked as soon as Xanatos reappeared.

"Well, either you were wrong about me," Xanatos said, face twisting into an ugly sneer, eyes growing cold and hard, "and I was never meant to be a jedi, too proud, too hateful, too dark."

Qui-Gon swallowed with a dry throat, eyes locked on the beautiful face made hideous with hate.

"In which case my Fall was inevitable and not your fault," Xanatos said with a roll of his eyes, "and why the kriff would you let me win, let my darkness blot out the light you can still provide the galaxy?"

Qui-Gon gaped at him.

"Or you were right about me," and here Xanatos' face gentled into something soft and sweet and sad, "and I loved you as much as you loved me and my Fall is a tragedy."

Qui-Gon blinked burning eyes and licked his lips as he drew in a shaky breath.

"But somewhere inside me is still that boy and he would want you happy and not alone," Xanatos said.

"Xani-" Qui-Gon whispered.

Xanatos smiled sadly at him.

"I miss you," Qui-Gon said.

"I know," Xanatos answered.

The silence between them was heavy and sorrow filled.

"And really Master, it's just rude to make the decision without giving the boy his own chance to choose," Xanatos said, eyes dancing as he lightened the mood.

"Ah- You may have a point," Qui-Gon conceded.

"I usually do," said Xanatos impishly.

Qui-Gon chuckled rustily and nodded to his former Padawan. Xanatos nodded back and vanished.

Sinking into meditation, Qui-Gon found himself alone with the Force. Calm and at peace for the first time in months, Qui-Gon turned towards his collection of Force bonds. Briefly checking on his various older training and pair bonds, he turned his mind to the newest bond. It was just starting to grow, but already it was bright and warm.

#15 a day #star wars #qui gon jinn #count dooku #xanatos #force meddling #brothers in soul #so i kinda broke my own heart writing this #oh qui #you need all the hugs #and i didn't actually provide any this time

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