forcing myself out of my creative rut by writing from the pov of a new character (also i’ve had this idea since star wars day and given what coming up this month, it makes sense tbd)
fandom: star wars rebels
relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla
rating: g
word count: 1.4k
~
He wasn’t sure what possessed him to traverse the blinding heat of the desert to wander the congested streets of Ancorhead but he found himself in the spaceport city all the same. Rugged off worlders and weary townsfolk passed by him as he walked with no real destination, the twin suns of Tatoonie blazing brightly in the cloudless sky overhead.
His feet took him to a small cantina, not far from the bustling spaceport. The tea was sour and tepid but his seat on the outdoor patio gave him a full view of the dusty city and the millions of lives that called the desolate planet home. He often wondered what it would have been like to grow up on a planet like this, nothing but sand in every direction. He suspected his life would have been very different; slow, borderline monotonous but simple, carefree in a way that was so foreign to him that it seemed like an impossible ideal. Tatoonie was a steady, solid planet where nothing ever happened.
Then again, it was this very planet where everything had changed.
Obi Wan Kenobi looked down at this tea, letting his thoughts blended into the murky brown liquid. How many hours he had wasted, thinking of a different life, one that didn’t revolve around this particular planet? Too many to count, it seemed and he saw many more wasted days in his future but what was a Jedi to do in a galaxy that had no want for one?
The familiar ache in his chest throbbed, his throat growing tight with emotion. Obi Wan closed his eyes against the bright landscape and took a deep breath, letting the pain he felt dim as he opened himself up to the comfort of the living Force.
Then, he felt it.
It was like a whisper brushing up against his mind, subtle and unmistakable.
There was a Force wielder on Tatoonie.
No - not just any Force wielder, it was a Force wielder he recognized.
Obi Wan’s first instinct was to run. His objective was to remain hidden, lest his true intentions be discovered. But an abrupt exit, even on such a place as this, would only draw more attention to himself, so he reached for his tea and brought it to his lips, focusing on the bitter liquid as it spilled down his suddenly parched throat.
He let his conscience spread outwards, searching for the being that had sparked the awakening in the Force. He was careful not to draw too heavily on the Force as he looked, he had heard the stories of the Empire’s agents that hunted beings like him. It was only a small fraction of what he was capable of but it was more than enough to find what he was seeking.
His eyes dragged over to a food stall on the opposite side of the wide street. Two beings stood propped up against the furrocrete walls of a building, a young, green skinned Twi’lek woman and a young Human male, both somewhere in their early twenties. While more than one eye fell on the Twi’lek woman, Obi Wan’s attention zeroed in on the man.
He was the Force wielder.
Careful not to reveal himself, Obi Wan studied the Force signature of the man while using his physical senses to discover more about him. He was tall and lean with dark chestnut hair tied back into a tail at the base of his skull. Like nearly everyone on Tatoonie he was armed with a blaster and while he seemed to be deep in conversation with the Twi’lek woman, Obi Wan could tell from the tense line of his broad shoulders that he was completely aware of his surroundings.
His Force signature was much harder to read. It was clouded, hard for Obi Wan to decipher, a twisting maze of traps and durasteel walls. It was a mark of someone who knew the dangers of being a Force user in the age of the Empire. It also spoke of his strength. He was trained enough to know how to hide in plain sight but not enough to remain completely hidden.
Obi Wan pressed harder, diving past the initial defense the man had constructed around himself and couldn’t suppress the gasp of surprise when recognition took hold.
It couldn’t be…
But it was. The Force never lied.
It was Depa Billaba’s inquisitive padawan, Caleb Dume.
Obi Wan let go of his hold on the Force and sat back in his chair, at a loss.
Caleb was certainly much taller than he had been when Obi Wan last saw him, a small little boy with more questions than sense and a voracious hunger for knowledge. Depa had had her hands full with him, his boundless curiosity had led to more than one reckless situation that rivaled the messes his own padawan tended to land in. But looking at him now, Obi Wan could see that wild streak had been tempered, his curiosity hardened into caution that spoke of a life of hardship and survival.
But it hadn’t warped him into something worse. Obi Wan could sense his pain, a dark hole deep in his soul but it was contained. Instead of constant fear, Obi Wan could feel the comforting heat of life surrounding him, it was different from when he was a boy but familiar all the same. Caleb was alive and happy and…in love.
Obi Wan didn’t need the Force to see it. Even from across the street he could see how Caleb leaned in towards the young Twi’lek. How his eyes never left her face as she spoke. His expression was soft and he burned with such adoration that Obi Wan was surprised he didn’t sense it sooner.
Whoever that young woman was, Caleb was deeply in love with her.
There was a sour taste on the back of Obi Wan’s tongue that had nothing to do with the tea. He had seen this before and he had seen where it led. But unlike the tight possessiveness that had leached from Anakin, Obi Wan felt nothing but pure light. Caleb’s love for this woman was unconditional but even still, it couldn’t beat back the cold fingers of fear that creeped up Obi Wan’s spine.
Do you trust him so little? A long forgotten voice echoed faintly in his mind.
It wasn’t about trust, he wanted to say. He had trusted Anakin with his life and look at what had happened in return. A Jedi’s purpose was to love but from his point of view, this type of love would only end in heartbreak.
In the heart of a Jedi, lies their strength. The voice replied softly, fading back into his memories.
Obi Wan glanced over at the two again, the playful smile on Caleb’s lips making the woman’s cheeks flush with color. There was no darkness hiding in the corners of their minds. Despite the pain and horrors Caleb had suffered he was still a beacon of the light, a Jedi, even in hiding.
He wasn’t Anakin.
Caleb kissed the side of the Twi’lek’s cheek, the tips of her lekku curling pleasantly. She wrapped a gloved hand around his and pulled him away from the wall. They walked together towards the spaceport, huddled close as if existing in their own personal universe.
Obi Wan closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to follow after them. It had been so long, so long, since he had seen another Jedi. He had spent too many nights lying awake and thinking he was the only survivor, he was willing to bet Caleb had as well. He longed for the connection all Jedi felt, the familiarity that came with being with ones people. He walked to talk to Caleb, to learn what Depa’s curious padawan was doing, how he survived, if he had come across any other surviving Jedi. He wanted Caleb to feel the sense of warmth he was feeling now, knowing that he wasn’t the only Jedi left in this harsh galaxy.
But he couldn’t risk it, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was placed on Tatoonie for a reason and he could not put that in jeopardy. He could only watch as they disappeared into the spaceport.
Still, Caleb’s presence filled Obi Wan with hope. If he survived, then others could have too.
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.
Caleb was alive.
Obi Wan was not alone.
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what the ghost fam do at a garage sale
Kanan: wears the fanny pack with the money and made brownies for Jacen
Hera: organized the garage sale and tells people ”no you cant have that for free, you need to pay for it.”
Chopper: screams at the top of his circuits because he is being ignored
Zeb: is doing the coffee runs and ordering takeout
Sabine: marking prices and making small talk with customers
Ezra: sneaking behind Thrawn and increasing the prices because Hera asked him too because Thrawn has been calling and flooding Hera’s voicemail and she’s sick of it.
Kallus: helping sweet old people load heavy items in their cars
Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor: are the sweet old people
Jacen: running a con. Dad made the brownies, Jacen sells the brownies, Jacen tricks the customers into agreeing to buy a brownie before telling them the price, customer is blindsided by this adorable 5 year old asking for $3 a brownie but they cant say no because the kid is adorable so they pay the price for a brownie, Jacen makes a crapload of profit.
Hondo: is so proud of his pirate Jedi conning people and making profit
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[ID: two digital drawings of Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla from Star Wars: Rebels. The drawings depict an alternate version of canon, in which the two are reunited at the end of the war.
Image one: Hera holds Kanan close, cradling his face to hers. Her face is shown in profile, her back slightly turned toward the viewer, with one lek curled over her shoulder, the other hanging loose at her back. Hera wears her epilogue outfit: a two-toned, gray, collared shirt; a grayish brown vest; orange flight suit pants belted at her waist; dark gray gloves; and an orange and brown head cap. Kanan’s face is angled downward toward hers, their foreheads and noses touching. His hair has grown out a bit, the soft brown waves ending around his scarred jawline, where Hera has woven a hand amongst his locks. He wears a long-sleeved tunic and cloak, both colored in muted greens. The cloak is a slightly lighter green and is draped off his bicep. His scarred hand rests against Hera’s face. Both Hera and Kanan smile softly at one another, their expressions bittersweet.
Image two: Kanan and Hera hugging, shown from about the waist up. Kanan’s arms are wrapped around Hera’s back, his scarred hands holding her tightly. His faced is nestled into Hera’s shoulder, held close by her gloved hand. Eyes closed, he looks relieved, finding solace in her embrace. Hera’s arms are wrapped about his shoulders, her face turned into Kanan’s neck, obscured behind his face. Her lekku, which are twisted together in a spiral shape, rest against Kanan’s crossed arms. Their outfits are the same as the first image’s. END ID]
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