#mace puts himself right in the center to keep an eye on everyone

[questforgalas]

The High Republic series confirmed that part of a Jedi youngling’s day in the creche are midday naps on little nap mats, and now the image of all our faves in youngling form curled up on the nap mat is living rent free in my head

#star wars #the high republic #Obi wan has to cuddle someone it’s non negotiable #usually ends up being Quinlan #mace puts himself right in the center to keep an eye on everyone #Quinlan takes the longest to settle down #plo koon is out like a light as soon as he’s laying #plo’s mat is also always near Obi’s #anakin literally wraps himself around baby Ahsoka #yes they’re all literally younglings in this scenario I don’t care #yoda gets a little floating bassinet so no one by accidentally rolls onto him #kit’s little tank sits on the outskirts of the circle so he can still be included #jedi #jedi younglings #Obi wan kenobi #quinlan vos #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #mace windu #yoda #plo koon #depa billaba

[upsteadhq]

stay with me

prompt: requested by anon, who said “a role flip where hailey gets critically injured and jay is the one loosing his mind” and of course i was going to do it because, well, who would say no to worried!jay? so thank you anon for the request, and for your kind words on my fic “attempts”, it truly did brighten my morning, i hope this is what you were after <3

title is from he is we’s ‘kiss it better’ as well as the iconic 7x10 line “stay with me, jay”

Today was the first time in a while Jay woke up in bed on his own. It felt like forever since he had done this, and he and Hailey hadn’t been sure on the whole idea when it had been suggested to them a few weeks ago at Molly’s, it had been his brother that had proposed the idea, saying it might be fun to stick with the traditional “not staying in the same place the week before the wedding” route, so they agreed in an effort to shut him up about the fact.

He missed being able to reach out and wrap his arm around Hailey, to convince her to stay in bed just a little bit longer with lazy kisses up and down her neck before having to jump out from under the sheet quickly and skip having breakfast and coffee at home and instead grab one at the district because they were running late, if they hadn’t been interrupted that was. What could he say, sometimes the lazy kisses turned into something a little more and they would lose track of time. 

But there was no one there to do that to this morning, so Jay begrudgingly rolled out from underneath the thick sheet, not that he had really been underneath it - the sheet was too thick for the current summer heatwave overtaking Chicago right now and he had been awoken in the middle of the night to him sweating buckets so he had kicked it off. 

He checked his phone sat on the nightstand, unplugging the charger from the port and smiling at the message from Hailey already waiting on his home screen sent under ten minutes ago, presumably when she woke up.  

(07:02 - Hailey) Good morning soon-to-be husband. Just 6 more days

Jay quickly types back a response to let her know that he was awake too. 

(07:10 - Jay) The day can’t come by fast enough

He hit send and then padded out of the bedroom, the smile immediately gone when he almost tripped up the pile of somewhat damp clothes placed right outside the bathroom door, in other words two steps out of the room he had just walked out of. 

A mumbled curse escapes his lips as he carries on down the hall, finding his brother in the kitchen making himself a coffee. 

“Seriously? The wet clothes on the floor, you’re still doing that?” Jay asks, gaining the attention of his brother quickly, Will turning sharply at the sound of Jay’s voice coming from behind him, almost making the older one drop the mug held in his hand. 

After a moment to compose himself Will sighs, putting the mug down on the kitchen island and grabbing another empty one, sliding it along the top for Jay. “Sorry, I can’t help it,” he says before furrowing his eyebrows. “And whatever happened to not complaining to your host about the accommodation?” He questions. 

Jay shrugs. “I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he mumbles, not meeting his older brother’s gaze and instead he just takes the outstretched mug from his hand and walks past him to the coffee pot. “And you were the one that said it, I didn’t specifically ask for this, I was quite happy being able to see my fiancée.”  

Will rolls his eyes dramatically. “Shut up, you see her every day at work.”

The younger brother then looks up from pouring the coffee into the mug. “Speaking of work aren’t you supposed to be there right now?”

Will shakes his head. “Not for another two minutes.”

Jay’s phone on the counter beside him, making him lift up his attention from the mug to see what it was. A smile automatically appears on his face when he sees a text from Hailey, with a blurry photo attached. He slides it across, opening his messages and there he can see the photo better, it’s no longer blurry, and he didn’t think it was possible but the grin grew wider.

(07:13 - Hailey) I agree. Miss having someone there to clean up the mess, means I have to do it

The photo sent just underneath the message was one of the dining table, leftovers from breakfast everywhere. Sitting in one of the chairs was the same, it layered over the face of their two-year-old daughter, Macie. The girl had a cheeky grin on her face and oatmeal in the ends of her blonde hair, where clearly it had been accidentally dipped in the bowl. Her pajamas were covered in the food and her hands were slapping a specific spot of the mess on the table. She looked very proud of herself.

His brother’s voice rips Jay back up from his phone. “What you grinning at?” He asks over the mug in his own hands.

Jay turns the phone around so Will could see, a smile appearing on Will’s face at the sight of the picture. Jay slowly shakes his head as his older brother looks up from the phone, Jay taking it back so he could look at it again. “You know I saw her last night, but I already miss her.”

Will smirks, chugging the last of his coffee and then putting the empty mug down on the kitchen island once he catches sight of the time. He says a quick goodbye to his brother before having to rush out the door.

Jay finishes his rest of his coffee in the silence of the kitchen, putting both his and Will’s mug in the dishwasher for the cycle after dinner before heading back through to the bathroom for a quick shower before work, taking a moment to pick up the damp clothes from the floor and put them in the laundry basket because Will wouldn’t do it.

xxx

When Jay arrives into the district he’s greeted pleasantly by Trudy, as pleasantly as you could get from the desk sergeant at least, and then he makes his way up into the Intelligence bullpen, finding everyone already there.

He gives them all a smile as he passes by their desks before shrugging his lightweight jacket off and putting on the back of his chair, sitting down opposite Hailey, offering her the widest smile of them all.

“Nice to see you decided to join us.” Hailey jokes, looking across the two desks to him.

Jay leans back into his chair. “I’m sure it is.” He replies with a subtle wink in her direction, gaining a quick roll of Hailey’s eyes and then she turns around in her chair, trying to hide the smirk upturning the corner of her lips.

The moment is quickly over however when Voight leaves his office and walks over to the board, pulling it into the center of the room and starts briefing the unit on their new case.

An hour later someone was called to chase down a possible witness and Jay and Hailey being the only ones left in the bullpen - the others had also gone out to check out alibis and security footage from the surrounding area - they were sent on their way. On the drive over Jay quickly looks to Hailey, his eyes only on her for a second before back in the road.

“Did Mace go down alright last night? I know how difficult it is for her to sleep without my nightly bedtime story.”

Hailey chuckles, watching him from the corner of her eye. “You give yourself too much credit, she went down just fine without you last night.”

“Ouch.” Jay mumbles, dropping his face down to show a forced hurt expression.

Hailey then tilts her head to one side, fully turning it so she could see his profile. She reaches one hand up and places it atop his on the steering wheel, giving it a gentle squeeze before putting her hand back down in her lap.

Once they arrive at the house Jay stops the truck and they both step out simultaneously. Jay makes his way around the hood of the car and joins Hailey on that side but before they could make their way up to the house the sound of gunfire startled them both, Jay grabbing hold of Hailey’s shoulder and pulling her down into a squatted position just as another shot rings through their ears, the sound of the truck window directly above their heads smashing filling the air just after. Staying as low as they can they make their way around the other side of the truck, putting the vehicle between them and the shooter. Jay takes a shot at the window he could see the muzzle poking out of, scaring the gun away as Hailey radios it in, requesting back-up to their location.

Before the back-up could arrive however the sound of a scream coming from inside makes them jump up and advance toward the house and kick the door in and start their search in the house. In the living room they found a body of a woman on the floor.

Hailey kept watch around them as Jay knelt down, putting his fingers against her neck and leaving them there for a moment before meeting Hailey’s quick glance, shaking his head after he had felt nothing. He stood back up and they carried on their search around the house, clearing rooms as they did. When they made it to the kitchen however they were stopped by the man, said to be the witness they were there to speak to, hiding behind the wall with the gun pointed shakily at them.

Hailey and Jay didn’t lower theirs, they had seen many of these scenes in front of them before. The obvious uneasiness of the man’s hands could lead to one of two things - him dropping the gun quickly or another round would be let off.

Jay spoke in a calm manner, not wanting to scare the man anymore than he clearly was. “Chicago PD, lower your weapon and keep your hands where we can see them.”

The man shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to - I didn’t want to hurt her.”

Jay then nods. “I know,” he says, quickly carrying on but he doesn’t move his gun from up high and neither does Hailey. “But if you lower your gun and cooperate, we can talk to the State’s Attorney and work out a deal for you, but that will only happen if you put the gun down.”

It looks as though he was about to but all of a sudden he lifts it up higher, the tremors in his hand gone and he becomes swiftly confident pointing the gun toward the two detectives. He argues further for another minute before another round echoes through the room, and then another, and then another and then the gun gets thrown to the floor and the man bolts out of the back door.

Jay goes to follow him before catching the drop of someone in the corner of his eye. He looks over his shoulder to see Hailey on the floor, clutching her side and the thought of chasing the offender gets ditched as Jay throws his own gun back into the holster and kneels down beside her.

She’s insisting she’s fine the whole time he’s pulling at the strap of the vest to take it off, that it just knocked the wind out of her and that he should go after the offender.

“If patrol’s here they heard the shots. I’m not leaving you,” Jay shakes his head quickly, finally pulling the vest off of her left shoulder. “It didn’t go through, but it could have hit a rib.” He finds himself mumbling once he bunches her shirt upwards to see the skin underneath, making Hailey force a chuckle.

“Guess we might have to push the wedding back again, I was wondering what it would be this time,” she says, the words coming out gritted but despite that she carries on. “First a pregnancy, next a baby, then a huge profile case and now a bullet. What are we gonna tell people this time?” She asks, the words still an indicator on how much pain she was experiencing.

Jay tried to get her to keep her energy but he liked how she kept talking. If she was talking it meant she was alert, and if she was alert it meant she was okay - for the most part at least. After a beat he reached for his radio, having forgotten to do it before. “5021 George, officer down, I repeat officer down, need an ambo to 1812 South Racine Avenue. Offender is in the wind, blue jeans, dark sneakers, white jacket.”

The confirmation comes through the radio, telling them both there’s an ambulance on route and Jay spends the time keeping Hailey alert. As more time goes on he starts to notice her slowly drifting away, taking longer to answer questions and finish sentences, her eyelids starting to drop, the color drifting quickly away from her skin leaving her pale. The bullet didn’t penetrate through the skin, he didn’t know why this was happening and it wasn’t like he could apply pressure to try and slow the bleed. He kept tapping at her cheek to keep her awake, it working for the most part as they waited for the ambulance to show up. 

“Hey no, you stay awake,” he tells her after he taps her face for the third time to knock her back into reality. “You’re not allowed to, remember? We made a deal, no dying.”

Hailey slowly nods. “I remember.” She responds, the words barely a whisper.

They may or may not have been a little drunk the night they made that deal just a couple months into their engagement the night they picked the first date for their wedding and it may or may not have been the night they conceived their daughter, but the deal was the one thing they can recall in full from that night, the other things were blurs here and there.

Jay gives her a smile at the fact she answered quicker than normal. “Good, good. Do you remember what we said the punishment was if one of us tried to break the deal?”

There’s a quiet mumble from Hailey before she shakes her head. “We made a punishment?”

Jay nods, repositioning himself so he sat up properly, squeezing her shoulder as he went to say what the punishment was before he catches the sharp movement from Hailey, the tight grimace as he touched her shoulder. The smile previously there is wiped away and replaced with concern. “Did you get hit there too?” He asks as he peeks through the neck of her shirt to see if there was bruising or a wound from a bullet.

The words were coming out basically inaudible, just small movements of the mouth as her eyelids dropped lower. “No, it just hurts.”

There wasn’t a bruise or wound so he brought the neck of her shirt back where it was before and then he notices just how pale she had become. She was white as a sheet and by the time he realized how close to unconsciousness she was it was too late, her slipping away before he could attempt to stop it.

He quickly reached for his radio, practically shouting through it. “5021 George, I need an ETA in that ambo.”

The response is immediate. “Ambo is one minute out.”

Jay curses, trying the tips of his fingers against the side of her face again but that doesn’t work.

The next minute was hell, nothing he was doing was working and she just wasn’t waking back up again. Eventually the paramedics came rushing in through the front door and made their way to the back of the house after Jay called them through.

He explained what had happened, how she had passed out a minute before and how she had kept getting more pale despite the fact the bullet didn’t go through the vest. They did their usual quick exam and then got Hailey loaded into the back of the ambo and Jay jumped in close behind, the ambo taking off toward Med as soon as the back doors slammed shut.

On the way over there Hailey kept slipping in and out of consciousness, being out-of-it when the ambo pulled into the bay and they moved her into the ED.

One of the paramedics guiding the gurney toward the room spoke. “Hailey Upton, GCS 8, heart rate 107, BP 75/50. She’s been in and out of consciousness the entire ride over here. Non-penetrating gunshot to the upper left abdomen and was complaining about pain in her left shoulder before she fainted.”

Doctor Marcel ordered the transfer on to the bed and the paramedics took the gurney back out, disappearing out of sight again as Jay stood alert in the doorway to the trauma room, watching as the doctor and nurses poked her with IV’s and prodded at her abdomen. Jay watched as Marcel's face dropped subtly and ordered an ultrasound and that’s when he spoke up.

“What’s going on?” He asks loudly from the doorway, making everyone look up momentarily toward him before the doctor puts his focus back on to Hailey, waving in his direction and Jay’s face scrunches up, wondering what that means before he feels someone’s arms wrap around him and pull him away. He fights it, kicking his legs because he just about couldn’t put the soles of his feet on the floor and waving his arms around, demanding to be out back down.

“Stop, Jay, you can’t stand there, they need all the space they can get.” The person behind him says, Jay quickly recognizing the voice as the one who belonged to his brother. Will puts him back down on to the floor and then stands in front of him, putting his hands out to stop Jay when he punches forward to try and go back to the room.

Jay fights against it again, trying to push past his brother but it doesn’t work. “Will just let me passed, I need to see what’s going on.”

Will shakes his head, stopping the brunette. “What you need is to stay out of the way, you can’t stand there.”

Jay huffs. “I won’t get in the way, I need to see what’s going on.” He says, not only fighting off his brother as he did but the tears filling up in his eyes, making it difficult to see what was going on anyway.

Will’s hands reach for Jay’s shoulders, only to have Jay swat them away quickly. “Protocol says you can’t.”

Jay’s eyes widen, making it easier for Will to see the emotion written clear in them. “What protocol?! She’s my fiancée, my partner, I’m allowed to stand there.” He replies, his voice raising and catching at the back of his throat, causing a subtle break.

Will sighs. “The protocol in emergency situations, nobody in the doorway for easy but quick transportation to an available OR. They need to save as much time as possible.”

The volume in Jay’s voice disappears and it’s all spoken cracked. “What’s going on?” He pleads.

Will gives his younger brother a reassuring nod. “I’ll find out.” He whispers, catching Jay in for a hug when the emotion eventually overwhelms him, kicking his balance off and knocking him off his feet and he slowly falls into Will’s open arms.

They stay like that for a beat before a commotion from behind Will, making them both part away from each other just in time to watch Marcel leave the room and make his way over toward them.

Marcel doesn’t waste a beat, getting the point straight away. “Jay, the FAST scan showed Hailey has a lot of internal bleeding in her abdomen, the force from the bullet caused her spleen to rupture and she’s unstable. It’s my best recommendation to perform a splenectomy and remove the organ in its entirety. Usually we wouldn’t jump to surgery but this is a very severe case. She’s still incoherent so as her next of kin it is your decision. Do I have permission to do the surgery?”

Jay quickly nods. “Yes, do everything you can for her.”

Marcel steps backwards into the room, coming back out moments later with two nurses wheeling the hospital bed toward the elevator. Will isn’t quick enough to react, Jay jumping forward and racing through the ED to the bedside, escaping his brother’s arms by a second.

He walks alongside the bed, grabbing hold of Hailey’s hand and giving her a forced smile when he sees her slightly awake. “You’re gonna be fine, Hailey, I promise you, and we’re gonna be able to get married when you’re out of here and then we’re gonna get to grow old together, just like we said. I’m gonna be with you every step of the way, I’m not gonna leave you,” he whispers to her before being pulled away by Will as the bed boards the elevator. “I love you, Hailey.” He adds, his voice slightly louder and he says it just in time, the steel doors shutting in his face.

Jay takes in a steadying breath and he just stands there, eyes glued to the doors in front of him. Quickly he loses it, spinning around on his heels and clutches on to his brother again, wrapping his arms around him and hiding his head in Will’s shoulder.

Will brings his hand up, patting Jay’s back and tightening the hug. Will doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, just breathes calmly and listens to the quiet cries coming from his baby brother, allowing him to have all the time he needed to let it out, knowing it would be worse off if Jay kept it in.

xxx

Jay’s eyes stung. It had been just under an hour since Hailey had been taken upstairs to surgery and he hadn’t heard a word. The rest of the unit had showed up a few minutes after Hailey had been wheeled off and had taken Jay from Will’s arms, allowing the red-head to go back to work, and Kevin had then become the leaning post for Jay hold on to for another few minutes before he pulled away apologizing and then they were taken upstairs to wait in the appropriate waiting room. Since then everyone had been sat in the chairs silently.

Some of the other people in the room were looking through something on their phone, the odd few skimming through old newspapers and magazines kept on the ankle-high coffee tables and then there was the unit, who were looking around nervously and sunk into the uncomfortable chairs obsessively drinking their third coffee in time time they had been here. Jay was picking at the now non-existent fingernails on one hand and staring down the oddly coloured and stained carpet underneath his feet. Before that he had been rubbing the base of his fourth finger on his left hand, where in just six days there’s set to be a ring there but for the time being it’s still just an empty space waiting to be filled. It was probably going to be a lot more than six days until it did now, but he was used to that feeling, knowing the wedding would more than likely have to move again.

At least the first two times had been positive reasons.

He thought back to the first time, when Hailey had been acting off for a few days, being all distant. She wasn’t herself and when he confronted her about it, when he asked what was wrong she had just shook her head, muttering how she couldn’t do it before handing back over the ring. He remembers moping at the district until Will talked some sense into him and told him to speak to Hailey. He had gone back to the apartment to find her stood by the front door and once they went inside he gave a speech about how he wasn’t going to let a little bit of cold feet stop him unless she really didn’t want to get married.

"Jay, I didn't call off the wedding because of cold feet."

It takes a second before his face screws up with confusion, him sending her a slightly very confused look. "Then why did you?"

She gives him a smile as she shrugs her shoulders lightly. "Because I didn't want to be eight months pregnant when we got married," she replies and she watches the confusion drain from Jay's face at what she said, his face becoming very straight, "I had a hunch a few days ago but it was too early to be able to take a test, and I didn't want to tell you until I was sure because I know how you felt about having kids because of your own dad and I didn't want to freak you out if it was noth-"

She's cut off suddenly by Jay stepping forward and leaning over, locking his lips against hers whilst cupping her face with his hands, tangling the ends of his fingers into the loose strands of hair she had draped over her shoulders. She smiles against his lips, just beginning to move her hands up his arms as he parted them apart a few moments later after the initial kiss, leaning his forehead against hers for a beat before edging his jaw forward again, putting a more gentle kiss to her lips this time but it was over quicker.

A beat passes of just the two of them leaning with their heads still inches apart before she lets out a single breathless laugh. "Nothing." She whispers, finishing off her sentence that had been cut short by his mouth.

He remembers what had happened next, how the rest of the night had been spent in pure bliss. About how the next few months were spent in pure bliss. About how the last few years were just spent in pure bliss.

And now everything could be crumbling apart. It could have already fallen down and he wouldn’t know about it, not just yet anyway.

He felt sick to his stomach and he knew there’s nothing he could do to make that feeling go away, that it wouldn’t leave until he knew about Hailey and her being out of surgery, and yet that could still be hours away.

He doesn’t move his gaze away from the floor as he continued to pick at his bleeding nails, finding comfort in having something to distract himself, even if it wasn’t ideally what he should be doing.

There’s scenarios rushing through his head. What-ifs taking over. He should have stopped it. Maybe if he hadn't missed that window shot outside the house this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if he hadn't been so calm in the kitchen. What if he had dropped the offender to the floor before he got the sudden confidence spike? He easily would have been able to pounce on the guy and take the gun from his hands so why didn’t he?

Because you might have been shot yourself, dummy. He can hear Hailey’s voice in his head respond to the question he posed himself.

Although the voice was right. With the nerves clear in that guy’s hand there had been so many ways that situation could have gone wrong, ending up in a more fatal shot to one of them than the one Hailey took.

But still, he should have done it. He should have reacted faster. He was trained professionally, for the army, to be quick and have fast decisions, but he still pulled back and didn’t notice the signs early enough. He should have taken the man down there and then, disarm him before he shot, but he didn’t and now look where he was.

He feels a warm hand rest on his back and it makes him jump in his seat, shooting his head up to stare at the person standing beside him. At first the bright light coming from the ceiling blinds him, he had been looking down to the floor longer than first thought before he sees the gentle reassuring smile of Kevin hovering over him.

Kevin hesitantly sits down beside him, keeping his hand pressed against the detective’s back before pulling it away when Jay leans back in the chair to avoid having it crushed in between the two.

Jay props his elbow up on the arm of the chair and bunches his hand into a fist and leans his temple into it. After a beat the detective slowly nods, speaking his first words since Hailey had been taken into the elevator - until now he had been a silent statue sat there. “I should have stopped it.” He whispers and in the corner of his eye he could see everyone in the unit turn to look at him from their own seats, the surprise to hear him talking written on their faces.

Kevin’s face is the only one to drop though. “Jay you didn’t know, there was no way you could have stopped it.”

Jay’s voice is a lot more urgent this time, compared to the silent words he had just spoken before. “Well I should have tried.”

Kevin sends a quick look over his shoulder to the rest of the unit and they all look as lost as he feels. He doesn’t know what else to say to the detective, so he just brings his hand back up and puts it atop Jay’s shoulder.

Jay has to swallow back the lump in the back of his throat and the teary eyes that accompanied it. At this point surely he should be cried out, but the tears just kept on coming and he was quite surprised he still had that much water in his body left.

He leans back further into his fist, resting that half of his body weight on that one elbow propped up on the arm of the chair, and just lets everything play out again in silence.

xxx

He wasn’t sure at which point he fell asleep or how he even managed to, but the next thing he knows his shoulder is being shaken and someone is calling his name into his ear. He bolts up, looking around the room quickly to see what all the commotion was about before seeing doctor Marcel stood in the waiting room, being surrounded by the unit.

Jay jumps up from the seat, his legs a little uneasy at first but he gets to the other side of the waiting room without falling over so he’s calling that a plus.

Once he reaches the rest of the group and basically pushes to the front, Marcel shakes his head, gesturing for Jay to follow him. “She’s awake, wants to see you.”

Jay quickly follows, keeping less than a step behind the doctor at all times on the path across the floor to the surgical recovery. Marcel can barely open the door before Jay is already in there, walking over to the bed.

Hailey smiles when she sees him and there’s a giant wash of relief that comes over him, the weight he didn’t know was there lifted up from his shoulders.

He stops at the edge of the bed and leans down, putting a soft but long kiss to the top of her head, his lips upturned the entire time. After a moment he pulls himself away and stays put as doctor Marcel moves to the foot of the bed, running through the important information.

“You’re gonna be in the hospital the next few days so we can monitor you, and you should be fully recovered in about six weeks.” Marcel says, gaining a breathless chuckle from Jay.

“Guess we’re gonna have to push the wedding back again.” Jay cuts in.

Marcel nods. “Just a little bit.”

Marcel runs through a few more things before whispering how he’ll be back in a few minutes to go through things in more detail, and that he’d let the two of them have a moment alone, before sticking to his word and leaving the room.

Jay sat on the very edge of the bed, slowly grabbing hold of the hand that didn’t have an IV line in, rubbing the pad of his fingers along the back of her hand, giving her a weak smile. “See? I told you you would be fine.”

Hailey’s eyebrows knit together and she briefly looks down to where his hand lay on top of hers. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About growing old together?”

“You remember that?” Jay asks, gaining a nod from Hailey but nothing more. He sits sideways a little further so he could face her better. “Hailey, we’re getting married, of course I meant it. There’s no one else I’d rather grow old with.”

#anon request #i brought macie over from wattpad because why not #and that flashback is one i stole from a previous wattpad fic #upstead #upstead fic #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #chicago med #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #kevin atwater #will halstead #crockett marcel #upton x halstead #halstead x upton #jay x will #halstead brothers #one chiacgo #chicago pd fanfiction #upstead fanfiction

[passable-talent]

*grabby hands* childhood Jedi training rival x anakin skywalker? 🥺🥺

you ever had a boy own your whole heart? I didn’t even realize how much I loved this man when I watched the prequels at 7 until I watched them again at 19- literally a gay awakening, twice. unprecidented.

also. I LIVED BITCH

Three years old, and you’ve never known anything other than the Jedi Temple. You’re learning words quickly- words like ‘up’, and ‘down’, and ‘Force’.

Five years old, and you’re told about how your parents sent you to Coruscant with pride, because you were force sensitive. They knew that someday, you were to be a Jedi.

Age seven. The time is drawing closer for you to become an initiate. You’re doing well in your classes, and you’re capable of some deep meditation, even if Master Yoda always comments that you’re too distracted.

Age nine, and there’s an eleventh added to your clan of younglings. His name is Anakin Skywalker, and he seems cool. He’s a bit old to start his training, but he’s part of your clan now, so everyone helps him study and catch up to the rest of the group.

You’re eleven years old. The initiate trials are only a few years away. Anakin is your best friend, even if you’d never admit it. He’s such a show-off, his force powers much stronger than anyone else in the unit, his marks on strategy exams are always outstanding, and he’s already a padawan, as he loves to remind you. But your politics are stronger, and when you practice with the wooden sabres, you beat him every time.

Thirteen, now. Next year, you’ll compete in the initiate trails, and if you succeed, the Apprentice Tournament. Anakin has started going on missions with Obi-Wan Kenobi, but he’s stopped teasing you about it, since he’s noticed how you redden with jealousy.

The initiate trails were a success. You’d gathered more skill in the force, though you still weren’t at Ani’s level, and passed the first trial. You had been gifted an orange kyber crystal by Master Mace Windu, and your lightsaber was distinct and brilliant. Finally, you had something to tease Anakin about- his blue blade was a common color.

For a year you trained with renewed fervor, having been moved from a youngling to an initiate. You were readying to participate in the Apprentice Tournament, where you would show off blade skills that Master Kit Fisto praised as being some of the best he’d seen from an initiate. Anakin helped you train, though he always offered with a throw-off statement such as ‘you’ll need all the help you can get’.

And if he didn’t cheat and use the Force, you certainly would’ve won more than you did.

Master Mace Windu had become an idol of yours, ever since he chose you to hand that kyber crystal to. If he didn’t mind the interruption, you would study with him, and he would guide your emotions, like your jealousy of Anakin and your angry determination, into Jedi strengths. He harbored the decision that he would take you as a padawan, as he hadn’t had one since Depa Billaba completed her trials, years ago.

He told himself that he’d take you as a padawan as soon as possible, but it seemed that you were intent on competing in the Apprentice Tournament, and he wouldn’t stop you.

Fourteen years old, and facing off against your class- and clan- mates in lightsaber duels, one by one. Your skills with the saber were unmatched by your peers. Certainly not by far, but you had a talent, a natural knack, and you quickly progressed through the bracket, until the final free-for-all. Anakin and Obi-Wan, you knew, were in the stands, just like Mace Windu. You needed only to win, or at least put up a fight, to impress them all.

Strategy was your ally, as the match started, as you did not charge headfirst into the battle. Your angry determination had turned to cool focus, picking out the best times to engage a fight and turn your opponent away. Soon enough, it was you and one other initiate- Lys Kysek. He was skilled, but you were better.

Cheers erupted when you won the duel, and you gave a humble bow, lifting Lys up to show respect to him. When you exited the Arena, you found the congratulations of your friends, and though Anakin looked impressed and happy for you, he maintained that things would’ve been different if he’d entered the tournament.

Seventeen years old- you’re a padawan to Master Mace Windu, and have been for three years. Anakin is most certainly the person you despise most in the world, and anyone who claims otherwise is clearly lying, kidding themselves. Don’t they see how you boast every time you beat him in a duel? Don’t they see the way you flush with anger whenever he bests you? What other explanation could there be for your sputtering whenever he sends you a cocky smile?

Yeah, yeah. You see, Jedi are forbidden to love. You wondered, though, if the Masters of Old would’ve written that rule if they’d seen how Anakin smiles.

At nineteen, you were knighted, having completed your trials. It was rushed, you knew that, but the Clone Wars had begun, and the galaxy needed Jedi Knights like never before. It was fine- Master Windu would do just fine without you. And besides, being a General in the Grand Amry of the Republic had its perks.

One being, of course, that you were able to chose to go on missions with your old friend, Anakin Skywalker.

He had his hands full, with his new padawan and all, so he was often grateful to have you at his side. Ahsoka, her personality not unlike a Florrumian fire cracker, seemed to reignite the rivalry between the two of you, going so far as to claim she wished that she had been your padawan, instead of Anakin.

Oh, how that made him boil.

Still, you would follow him into battle in a heartbeat. You’d protect him with your life, and of course, he would do the same. Together with his piloting and your sabre skills, you were unstoppable on missions. Ever so slowly, you forged a force connection.

It was like that of a padawan and master, but more balanced, like a true partnership. You could feel each other’s presence, location, and sometimes even emotion, when it was particularly strong. Anakin never spoke of it, and so you wondered if you were meant to hide it- maybe, it had happened because of the love you held for him as a teenager, and maybe still did. Jedi weren’t meant to grow attached to anyone, especially not the way that you had, and so you kept quiet, and just felt it when he stood beside you.

Anakin and Ahsoka had left for a mission that you weren’t meant to accompany them on. You stayed at the temple and completed the diplomatic communications you were known to be quite good at, content and confident that Anakin would return unscathed.

And then, you felt it.

In the middle of your meditation, when your body was open to the force, you felt the deepest, most raw pain you had ever felt in the depths of your stomach. It made you double over and nearly vomit, its pain so intense that you couldn’t move. It ebbed after a few moments, and on weakened legs you stumbled to your communication station.

Where pain had been only moments ago, you now felt fear settle. You had a connection with Anakin, and when you were meditating with the force, had felt horrible pain- the conclusion was obvious that Anakin was hurt. You tried first to reach him, but nothing went through. Then you tried for Ahsoka, who was equally unreachable. When you couldn’t reach Captain Rex you started to fear for the worst.

You ran to your old Master, finding him in discussion with another Jedi, who he waved away as he sensed your panic, and strife.

“What is it?”

“Anakin’s in trouble. I can’t reach him, and I think he’s hurt.” Mace turned to the nearby communication equipment and tried to reach Anakin’s unit, but gave you the side eye as he did so.

“How do you know he’s hurt if you can’t reach him?”

“Master, I- I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” You conceded with a sigh, knowing that your master could see through you.

“Anakin and I- we have this bond, in the force. I don’t know how it happened. But it’s never been like this before- I’ve never felt his injury, and I’ve never felt him when he was so far away. I- I’m scared that he’s in real danger.” By this time, Mace had pulled up transmission with Obi-Wan, who quickly relayed the 501st’s last known meeting and location.

“Be careful,” Mace warned you, “what you’re describing sounds almost like a Dyad. It can’t be, we would’ve known by now, but if it’s this similar now, it could prove to be dangerous, later. Don’t let his pain keep you from his rescue.”

You hopped in a speeder and raced to the aid of your friends.

When you entered the atmosphere of the planet Anakin had said to have been lost upon, you tried to open your mind to the force- it was difficult, you had to admit, flying a speeder through Seperatist airspace, but you had to try. You let the force guide you to a different part of the planet, where you touched down and hid your ship amongst the foliage as best you could.

Once again you let the force guide you, sending you deep into the woods. You knew you must’ve been getting close when you began garnering fire, but instead of red droid blasters, you were avoiding instead blue fire.

So you ignited your saber and lifted it as a sign of peace.

As soon as the clones stopped firing, you rushed toward them, and found almost exactly what you feared. Ahsoka had tears running down her face, surrounded by a protection squad of clones, and Anakin was bleeding heavily from a droid blast in the center of his abdomen, right where you had felt the pain. You had taken time to get here- he was still alive, but had passed out either from the pain, or from blood loss.

“Master (Y/N), I don’t know what to do,” Ahsoka sobbed, and you feel to your knees opposite her, at Anakin’s side.

“Ahsoka, give me your hand,” you ordered her, and you pressed down her hand onto the left side of his wound, then moving your palm to its right. “Meditate with me. We’re going to give him some life force, to help him heal.” You’d tried this, once, long ago. When you were on a mission with your Master, and he’d received a similar wound. It was much smaller, and he’d been able to guide you through it. Today, you would be that guidance, for Ahsoka. And maybe, her Force powers and yours combined would be enough to heal him. “Visualize the Force, the Force all around us, within us. Visualize it traveling down your body, into your fingertips, into Anakin’s body. Visualize the energy flow being channeled by the two of us.”

Once you’d explained, you closed your eyes, and pictured it. The Force, to you, looked like golden light, compassion and kindness shimmering in the air all around you. Like a magnetic field it was drawn to Jedi, and in this instant you saw it pour downward through the funnel you created with Ahsoka into Anakin’s body.

He opened his eyes slowly, a small groan leaving his body.

“Hey, (Y/N). You made it after all.” Ahsoka called Master! and leapt forward to give him a hug, to which he laughed and hugged back, teasing that it would take more than a droid to kill him. You shook your head and sat back, narrowing your eyes.

“Skywalker, how many times am I going to have to hop in a speeder and race across the galaxy to make sure you don’t die?”

“Oh, just once more,” he shot back, that smirk back on his face, as though it had never left. “I don’t suppose you have a way off this planet?”

“You’re lucky I’m going to let you on my ship.”

As soon as Anakin opened communications on your speeder with Obi-Wan to report the successful, if nearly life-costing, mission, you let Captain Rex take the wheel, and went to the deck below to speak with Anakin in private.

“You felt it, didn’t you?” He asked, his hand over the scar that had formed from rapid healing. “When I got shot.”

“Yes,” you answered, eyes cast to the side.

“Why are we connected like this?”

“I don’t know. I think-“

“Is it because of how much I like you?” You lifted your head in surprise, and briefly felt an emotion you almost never felt from Anakin- vulnerability.

“You- you do?”

“I have since we were kids. I never told you, because I knew I wasn’t supposed to feel this way, and thought that since you were raised in the temple, you’d never feel the same.” His expression told you he was sensing the emotions that currently broiled in your heart. The nervousness, the surprise, but mostly the relief, relief that your love wasn’t unrequited, that you weren’t the only one, that you weren’t breaking the code alone.

“Anakin, I- I can’t believe this.” You took the two quick steps to him but stopped short of the hug he was expecting, briefly laying your fingers where his wound had been, where his robes were scorched. “I’m glad you’re not dead.” Anakin gave a little laugh.

“Yeah, me too.” You closed the distance and hugged him, tightly, closing your eyes and letting yourself feel as satisfaction and happiness bounced between the two of you. “I’m glad you were there when I woke up.” You snorted, pulling away, eyes narrowed playfully.

“Buddy, if I wasn’t there, you wouldn’t have woken up.” Instead of teasing back, as you had expected, Anakin took hold of your closer wrist, the playfulness only in his smirk.

“Then it’s a good thing you were there. If you hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have gotten to do this.” With his opposite hand he cupped your face, and slowly, he brought the two of you together.

Scattered across the galaxy, there were four people who felt it when the two of you kissed. Not because of the kiss itself, but because of the connection between two who were bound by the force, pulsating outward from a moment of satisfaction, devotion, happiness. Master Yoda, on a mission to Endor, who scowled, wondering how much harder it would become to control Anakin. Mace Windu, on Coruscant, who laughed, as though he expected such a feeling. Obi-Wan Kenobi, in a cruiser halfway ‘cross the galaxy, who merely shook his head. And, on the very same ship, Ahsoka Tano, who quietly received five Republic credits from Captain Rex, who’d lost their bet.

-🦌 Roe

#reader insert #angst #imagines #Star Wars #star wars prequels #anakin skywalker #darth vadar #Jedi #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin x reader #poor anakin #anakin imagine #revenge of the sith #clone wars #the clone wars

[starculler]

Whumptober 2021: Day 5

Word Count: 6042 || Read on Ao3

Tags/Warnings: Star Wars, Anakin Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine Ahsoka Tano, Rex, Mace Windu, Violence, Implied Torture, Fake Death, loss of limb (fingers)

Another one in by the skin of my teeth lol.

Anakin nodded at the pair of clones, red and white clad troopers from the Coruscant Guard, stationed in front of the outermost doors to the Chancellor’s suite as he strode past and inside to the office they’d always met in. The grand room, and the hall before it, looked as it always had during any of his visits: haloed in the sun’s light and filled with any number of priceless artifacts and fine, if simply constructed, furniture. And all of it painted a bright, rich red from floor to ceiling that gave way to the raised, warm gray flooring nearer the windows. He stopped before that raised section, hands fisted and trembling beneath the larger sleeves of his dark brown robe, and looked up, past the stairs and chairs and desk at its very center to the Chancellor himself, smiling placidly down at him.

“Anakin, my dear boy,” the Chancellor greeted, pleased, and it was all Anakin could do not to scream. “I wasn’t expecting you, but please come. Take a seat. I always have time for a friend.”

“My apologies, Chancellor,” he said neutrally. He offered a shallow bow, jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. It hurt to breathe, a vice wrapped around his chest and squeezing his lungs so painfully tight he thought he might suffocate on the spot. “We just got back from a” — horrible nightmare, he thought and only a hitch in his breath to give it away —“campaign in the Outer Rim. I thought the resupply was also a good excuse to give my Padawan and I some time to rest planetside. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything important.”

“Not at all.” Pal— The Chancellor, shook his head, smile still in place, if a little tighter when he gestured to the chairs in front of his desk and said, again: “Please. Sit. How is your padawan doing? Last we spoke, you sounded quite frustrated. Understandable, of course,” he said, amiable and sympathetic. “Teenagers, especially her age, can be difficult, though I have no doubts that you’re doing your best.”

Anakin walked up the four steps to the platform and not an inch closer even as he offered a tight smile of his own. He tasted sour bile in the back of his mouth to hear the man so much as mention Ahsoka, even if he’d kept her name out of his mouth. Still, he bobbed his head in acknowledgment of the question and answered.

“She’s doing good, Your Excellency. I think we’ve come to understand each other a little better since the last time I was able to speak with you.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” said the Chancellor, sounding, to Anakin’s ears, just a fraction displeased at the news.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It is.”

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

They’d lost so many men.

Ahsoka hadn’t been able to purge that haunting sight from her since they’d hobbled back to the Resolute, victorious but silent. The bodies of men she’d slowly grown closer to lived on the backs of her eyelids, there to see every time she closed her eyes. All of them left behind like so much trash, unburied and with no time to mourn them as they hurried on to the next planet. The next battlefield. The next slaughter.

She shuddered, huddled up in a deserted corner of the ship — so deep in that she’d lost track of where exactly she’d walked — as far from everyone else as she’d been able to manage. Misery clung to her, sticking and ugly, and she knew. She knew it was worse for the men who’d lost their brothers. Their friends. So she sat alone, the tears long-dried on her cheeks, not wanting to interrupt or take up space she didn’t deserve. They weren’t her brothers, but they’d been her men for almost a year and she cared. More than she probably should.

“Hey, Snips.”

She jerked, eyes wide, not having heard her master coming down the corridor. He smiled, a wan, withering thing. Nothing at all like the usual bluster and brightness he showed off in front of everyone. She said nothing as he sat, legs crossed and elbows resting on his knees, in front of her. He looked so tired. Stressed. He hadn’t been the neatest or most put-together looking Jedi she’d ever met, but he’d grown slowly worse since their last trip to Coruscant.

“Hey,” she said, voice duller than she’d meant it to be.

“How’re you holding up?” She considered the question. Considered lying, but…

“Not… not great.” Anakin hummed, but didn’t interrupt. She didn’t dare look at him as she spoke, not wanting to see how he felt about what she admitted. “I just— I don’t know—” She hooked her fingers into the thick, white fabric of her leggings and pulled her legs in closer. “I wanted to be a Jedi so bad.” She hated how she choked on the words, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “I still do, really. But. But there’s just so much—

“It’s awful,” she whispered and startled when an arm settled over her shoulder and pulled so she was pressed tight to her master’s side. Wrapped up in her roiling emotions as she’d been, she hadn’t even noticed him move. She sniffled, turning to hide her face in his dark tunic. “There’s so much death, master. So much pain. I feel it all the time and I. I don’t know how to—”

The words died in her throat, smothered by an awful sob half-muffled by her master’s warmth. He rubbed her shoulder as she cried, pulled in as close as either could physically manage.

“How do you do it, Master,” she croaked once she’d mostly calmed. “How do you not care so hard?” She felt him still next to her, almost a flinch. Before she could apologize, take the words and this moment back and flee to her room, he answered, his own voice low and soft. Gentle.

“You never stop, Snips. You just … learn. You put it aside when you’re needed, and work through it when you’re not.” He sighed. “I’m not— Well. You know I’m not always great with my emotions, not like Obi-Wan or some of the other Masters.” She nodded in the lull, waiting for him to gather himself. “But the worst of it, the parts that’d only hurt you or the men to see? I keep it locked in a little box with an old fashioned lock and key, stashed away until I have time to meditate or process or even just when I work on a ship or droid.

“Every time we come back from a campaign and I count how many we’ve lost, I feel it so hard I think I’ll never breathe again. Usually, I’ll rely on Obi-Wan if it’s bad enough and he knows he can lean on me if he needs it. You, my young Padawan, can come to me any time you need to,” he said, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Anytime. Any reason. Even if it’s just to sit quietly together.”

Ahsoka nodded, not feeling better but not quite as alone either.

“Can we meditate?” She asked, voice trembling and tiny.

“Of course,” he said. Neither of them moved, not just yet.

“Hey Skyguy?” Anakin hummed a response. “You can count on me too, if you want.”

He said nothing for a long moment, and she saw his other hand twitch from the corner of her eyes — a brief motion, there and done.

“I know,” he murmured, so quietly a human wouldn’t have heard him even though her montrals picked the words up easily. “I know.”

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Anakin sucked in a deep, bracing breath, willing himself to be still and patient for just a little longer despite how every second he stood there only fueled the pit of anger coiled tightly in his gut. It had been easier, on the Resolute — in space and among his men where he didn’t have to look at the face of a man who’d lied to him for as long as they’d known each other. A man he’d defended against criticism and let whisper in his ear. A man he’d let slowly poison him from the inside until the rot had settled deep in the core of him, a permanent fixture he looked upon with shame and regret. And anger.

“I’m afraid I haven’t come just to visit an old friend, though.” His voice, miraculously, didn’t so much as waver, the words flowing as smoothly from him as they never had.

The Chancellor’s eyes seemed to narrow for a moment — so quick he almost thought he’d misinterpreted it, a trick of the light and nothing more — before he spoke, his tone even and jovial. “And what can I do to help you then, Anakin? Or have you come as Knight Skywalker? On behalf of the Jedi, perhaps,” he said, not a question. Anakin shook his head in answer regardless.

“I’m not here on behalf of the Jedi, Chancellor, but I am here as a Knight of the Order though I act alone.” He swallowed and carefully, slowly, reached down to his belt where his lightsaber hung, singing to him so faintly at that moment that it could have been miles away. The Chancellor didn’t move, didn’t so much as twitch, as he pulled the cool, metal casing from its clip and held it, unlit, in the palm of his flesh hand.

“What have you come here for, Knight Skywalker?”

A chill seemed to settle in the air between them that set every nerve in Anakin’s body aflame, alive and electric through his limbs so that he felt even the faint, phantom pain in his prosthetic. He curled his mechanical fingers into a fist, clenching and unclenching them for a few tense seconds the way he sometimes did before battle, when he worried that very pain might get in the way and cost more of his men their lives. His shoulders strained with the tension creeping into him, and he struggled to keep let it go.

“Chancellor Palpatine, I accuse you of being a Sith Lord and traitor to the Republic.”

The Chancellor laughed like Anakin had told a particularly funny joke, and said: “My boy, I am an old man who has dedicated his life, and a decade already as Chancellor, to the betterment of the Republic. How could I possibly be a-a Sith?” He asked, just the right amount of incredulity saturating the question. “I fear, my boy, that you are tired — this war has taken its toll on us all, and with you needed so often on the front and so firmly in the thick of the worst of it. Well, it hurts, but I’m unsurprised to find even a young man as impressive as you, my friend, might be swayed by this cruel joke under the circumstances.”

“It isn’t a joke,” Anakin snarled, finally losing the firm grip he’d kept on his anger. “I saw you.” The man stilled, thin lips pressed together in a grim line as he sat back in his chair too peer at Anakin like he were a bug. “I saw you,” he said again, breathing heavily, almost panting. “In your office, your private office, just before the 501st shipped out last time. Talking to Dooku.” He spat the name like a curse, filthier than any other word in his vocabulary.

“My boy, whatever you thought you saw—”

“He called you Sidious. He called you Master.” He bared his teeth at the man who’d been his friend, white-knuckled grip on his saber’s hilt tightening almost painfully. “You’ve betrayed the Republic.

“I am the Republic!” Anakin staggered when The Chancellor’s eyes flashed, bright yellow instead of deep brown.

“You’re a traitor,” Anakin bellowed back, finally igniting his lightsaber at his side. “You’ll turn yourself in, or I’ll bring you in myself. It’s my duty as a Jedi,” he said, not at all the confident declaration he’d meant it to be.

“Just as it was your duty to — what was it again? Eschew attachments?” Anakin flinched, but grit his teeth, determined. “My boy, Anakin, please see reason.”

“Reason? What reason? You’re-you’re a Sith!” He widened his stance as the Chancellor finally stood up from behind the desk, leaning forward on his hands against its smooth surface. His gaze burned into Anakin’s, boring in with such intensity he feared the man saw right down to the deepest, most vulnerable parts of him no matter how hard Anakin might try to keep him out. “You were my friend,” he said, nearly a whisper and not at all what he’d meant to.

“I still am.” The Chancellor smiled, but Anakin felt none of the warmth from it that he used to. “I can help you, Anakin. I can help you keep your loved ones safe in these awful times. I can give you the power to keep them safe with your own two hands. Power the Jedi could only dream of.” He paused, eyes gleaming bright and greedy as he said: “I could give you the galaxy.”

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Rex watched his general putter about the camp, looking more a mess than usual. He seemed not unlike a droid, his every move mechanically rote as he went about his tasks and his gaze distant in that way Rex sometimes saw on shell shocked shinies. He pursed his lips, grip on his bucket tightening a fraction. Their last campaign had been rough: heavy losses and a victory won by the skin of their teeth. He’d seen how it had left the Commander, much as Ahsoka had tried to hide it, and the next one was gearing up to be just as bad or worse if the 212th were held up.

General Skywalker, however, had been worrying him since long before. He didn’t know how much his general thought he was fooling Rex — and it rankled that he might have if not for little moments like this — but he wouldn’t fool anyone if this went on much longer. He’d heard troopers talking, spotting Skywalker up at all hours of the night, amiable enough but also mumbling to himself when he thought no one would see. Rex had done his best to keep the worst of it under wraps: making up reasons for the general’s wandering, erasing the occasional unauthorized flight on his personal junker of a ship, filling in reports that skipped his notice or forging them altogether.

What he couldn’t hide, Rex waved away as a symptom of how busy Jedi generals were in general. Easy to do when the only ones to work consistently closely with them were the Commanders — and Rex, considering he filled the role for the 501st.

He’d considered telling Cody at the very least, if not General Kenobi himself, but he’d put it off. Every time he came across evidence that something was wrong, he’d brushed it off. At first with assurances that the general was just stressed. That he’d course correct on his own and all would go back to how it had been. When it worsened, Rex had asked his general directly, needing to know if whatever had happened would affect his performance — if it would put men’s lives in danger.

Anakin had looked him in the eyes that day and promised he had it handled.

Whatever “it” was.

Rex trusted his general with his life. With his brothers’ lives. So it hurt, a physical pain in his chest, to know his general didn’t trust him enough to let him help. For his general — his friend — he’d do anything, even if it got him decommissioned. Had already, to some extent.

“Captain,” a shiny said, prying his attention away from Skywalker and back to the bustle of setting up camp. “Commander Cody’s on the line for you.”

Rex nodded and shoved his bucket back on his head. He spared one last glance at his general before following the trooper back to the hastily put together command tent, wondering all the way there if this was a sign for him to speak up.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Anakin swallowed, mouth dry as the desert planet he’d been born on. The part of him that would always be nine and scared, then nineteen and mourning, found the offer compelling. Power to keep everyone safe: Padmé, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Rex and his men. To have the galaxy fall in line so wars like this one never came about again. To break the chains keeping sentients fettered, abused and terrified. To do what he wanted without the constraints the Jedi imposed upon him and all their members. It appealed so well to that not-insignificant part of him that hated his own fear and weakness and the uncertainty of the future.

It scared him, how enticing the offer was and how tempted he was to forsake everything he knew and everything he’d been taught in exchange for that promise. All that held him back was the single, nagging feeling itching at the back of his skull. He probed at it, poking at what lay below the desire and fear until he found th rest of him — the parts the darkness didn’t call to so strongly.

The parts of him molded by the people he loved, nurtured by what he’d been taught at the Jedi’s feet, and built on the foundations his Mom had laid down for him in his childhood. The parts that whispered to him to be cautious. To be vigilant. To remember that nothing so golden, so perfect, came without a cost.

What was the price to be paid for the Chancellor’s offer?

What would he lose in exchange?

Everything, that tiny part of him whispered.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Obi-Wan smiled at Ahsoka as she skipped back towards her and Anakin’s troops, all of them nearly finished with the necessary preparations needed to leave this Force-forsaken planet. He watched the troops mingle, chatting and catching up as much as they could. Even his commander had loosened up in the afermath of a hard-won battle, leaned against a crate of supplies as he spoke with Rex.

The only person he hadn’t been able to find in the organized chaos had been his former padawan.

Anakin seemed to have disappeared entirely, not a trace of him anywhere which seemed odd to him. He turned toward Rex and Cody, intent on asking where he might find the wayward knight, only to slow and then stop altogether when he caught the tail end of their conversation.

“—know. But it’s … something.” Rex frowned, hands balled into tight fists at his side. Cody sighed.

“If he’s breaking regs,” Cody said archly, but didn’t finish the thought. Rex, in Obi-Wan’s humble opinion, looked rather much like he wanted to punch the other man.

“I’m not turning him in,” Rex hissed, low enough that Obi-Wan had to strain to hear him. “The general’s just … he’s in a bad way right now and I don’t know how to kriffing help if he won’t let me.”

Obi-Wan pressed his lips into a thin line, drawing back before he heard Cody’s response. He hadn’t known Anakin had been doing poorly, though in what capacity he wasn’t yet sure. He’d hardly spoken to Anakin at all the last few months, busy as they’d both been. Still, if the captain was so worried, enough to bring it to Cody, then. Well.

He made a mental note to himself to check in on his former padawan. He knew the 501st were due for leave soon, a quick resupply over Coruscant that would give Anakin and Ahsoka both time to visit the Temple. Perhaps after, he’d make the call, or better yet: find some time to get their two battalions together outside of battle.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

He breathed out, a single slow, measured breath, and set his jaw. When he looked at the Chancellor — at Sidious — his choice had been made. Sidious scowled even before Anakin spoke, wrinkled and severe and not a hint at all of the man he had trusted.

“No.” He brought his saber up into Djem So’s opening stance. “I am a Jedi, and I’ll do what I must.”

“So it’s treason, then,” Sidious sneered, pulling a lightsaber of his own from his robes. Anakin felt the last dregs of his hope drain when the blade lit, its blood-red light casting Sidious’ face into eerie relief as the lights in the room grew suddenly dim.

Anakin nodded once, a short, sharp jerk of his head. He breathed in, taking a brief moment to steel himself as the room’s tension and chill grew bloated and oppressive. For a moment neither of them moved. Coruscant itself seemed to freeze, from every sentient on-planet to its very rotation in space. And then, all at once, life exploded back into action.

Sidious leaped out from behind his desk at the same time Anakin surged forward. Their lightsabers scraped each other mid-air, the barest, buzzing touch as he kept that ominous, red blade from slicing at his shoulder. He spun quickly on his heel to meet Sidious’ offensive attack from behind. Their sabers clashed, properly locked and spitting as each of them tried to over-power the other.

He threw the entirety of his weight into every attack, pressing forward and pushing Sidious back. But nothing landed. Anakin growled, moving faster. Pushing. Pressing. But nothing. Fucking. Landed. Sidious whirled, inelegant but effective. Power bolstered by experience and skill. Every slash blocked. Every thrust parried. Every move economical and calculated and a near perfect counter to Anakin’s own aggressive style.

“You have such potential,” Sidious crooned at him, their sabers locked once again, the energy buzzing and crackling loudly in Anakin’s ears. “You could be so much more than you are, my boy.”

Anakin dug his heels in the carpet and pushed, shoving as much of the Force as he could into it even as the effort left his gasping for breath. Gasping, but victorious when it at least shut the Sith up and sent him sailing across the room if not into the wall like he’d wanted. He grinned at Sidious’ responding glower and merely adjusted his grip on his lightsaber with a shrug. Taunting Dooku’s master as much as he dared.

“Join me, Anakin,” Sidious said, unmoving from where he’d landed and looking somehow unbothered behind the anger radiating from him. “Join me and cease this foolishness.”

“Never,” he hissed, and leaped forward with help from the Force.

They clashed. Separated. Clashed again. Neither gained ground, even as Anakin found himself tiring, slowly but surely. He winced when a glancing blow caught his arm, searing and slicing a neat, shallow line from elbow to shoulder. Anakin managed a nastier slash at the Sith’s legs, and nearly laughed when he caught Sidious’ ankle as he leaped and watched him stagger on the landing.

Fury, thick and startling and like nothing Anakin had felt before even on the front lines, oozed from Sidious then. Anakin, sweating and exhausted, stilled. Tense and suddenly nervous. Something slick and malicious wrapped around his throat, and before he’d even registered that it was the Force — Sidious using the Force — it squeezed, cinched closed and cutting off his air.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” Sidious said, sincerity dripping like poison from his words. “I had a plan, you see. A place for you at my side, and. Well, it might be earlier than I’d hoped, but I’m nothing if not accommodating. Don’t you agree?”

“Shut.” Anakin gagged, the invisble vice squeezing ever tighter as the seconds ticked past. “Up.” He fumbled for the Force as dark spots dotted his vision, but felt it slip through his fingers like sand. “Sith.”

Sidious hummed, paced calmly closer to Anakin like they had all the time in the world. And maybe they did. Those were clone troopers out front, and Anakin had paid a slicer more than enough credits in his attempts to gather evidence against Sidious for at least the vague confirmation that they, specifically, could be controlled. He had no doubts, now, that Sidious, among those involved in this conspiracy, could and would do just that.

The Force squeezed a fraction harder — any more and his neck would snap — before easing, just enough for him to gasp, coughing and spluttering as fresh air returned to his burning lungs. He fell to his hands and knees, blinking back tears and the graying haze that had crept into his vision. He barely noticed when Sidious stopped in front of him and bent to pick his lightsaber up off the ground where he didn’t remember dropping it.

“What a tragedy,” Sidious said, laying a withered hand on Anakin’s head like a child needing comfort. He would have tried to bite the old man’s fingers off if he hadn’t still been struggling to catch his breath, just enough pressure still on his throat to keep him from fully recovering. “The disappearance of Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, The Hero with no Fear who tried so hard to defend the Republic’s beloved Chancellor from the Separatist assassin, Ventress. Who took off in pursuit when she fled, without backup despite the Chancellor’s pleas — always a hothead, that one.”

“Shut up,” Anakin croaked, pain straining his voice. The hand in his hair tightened, not painfully. Not yet. A warning to keep silent — a warning to be ignored as soon as he could fucking breath again.

“What a shame,” Sidious continued, “how the young man was caught unawares.”

Anakin’s stomach dropped, fear like ice crawling through his veins as the meaning behind Sidious’ monologue finally started to register. He moved and the pressure on his throat worsened in response. He shouldn’t have come. The thought hit him like a blaster bolt to the chest.

He shouldn’t have come. He should have told someone. Should have tried harder to gather evidence against the Chancellor, even though he’d lost sleep over it for months — trying and failing and trying again only to come up empty-handed every time. Sdious was smart and his plan had been in motion probably for longer than Anakin had been alive.

Even if they’d never believe him, he should have told someone.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

“Padmé.” Anakin said her name like it was the sun itself and he a man without its light all his life.

She smiled, held his face between the palms of her hands, and pulled him down into one of the softest, gentlest kisses they’d shared since the war had started. He practically melted against her, boneless if not quite relaxed. She pulled back first, brow furrowed and lips pursed as she studied his face. He hadn’t looked great the last time they’d talked over a holo, but now he looked worse.

The bags under his eyes were deep, dark smudges that looked like bruises in the dim light of her apartment. He looked drawn, paler than a man on the front lines more often than not should be, with dry, chapped lips and a gauntness to him that might have been as much a trick of the light as the early signs that he’d not been eating well. His hands trembled against her waist, a fine tremor she felt through the thin nightdress he’d caught her in. She hadn’t expected him to come by, not so late at night and certainly not looking half-dead.

“Anakin, what’s wrong? Should I call a healer?” she asked, smoothing a thumb over his lips, his cheek, under his eye. He shook his head, turning so he could kiss her palm. He ran so warm normally that it scared her to feel him so cold. Like death, she thought and it sent a foreboding thrill down her spine.

“I love you,” he murmured against her skin, his bright, blue eyes never leaving hers. She’d have found it romantic if not for how much it scared her just then.

“You’re scaring me, Anakin. Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“ ‘M sorry.” He lifted one hand told hold hers, the same one he’d kissed, and brushed his lips over her fingers. “I’m sorry,” he said again and Padmé thought she might cry from how wretched he sounded. “Don’t leave tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Don’t go to work. Stay here.” He didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

“Anakin, I can’t just— just skip. There’s an important bill we’re trying to pass and if I’m not there—” He squeezed her hand, not painfully but not gently either, and she snapped her mouth shut. “Anakin?” She moved to touch his face again, but he drew back. She gasped, a quiet, hurt noise pulled from her lips.

“Just tomorrow,” he said, sounding desperate. Scared. “Just tomorrow, please Angel. Please.” She swallowed, wide eyed and trembling now herself, but nodded.

“Alright. Alright, I promise, but only if you tell me what’s going on. Okay?” He hesitated, but acquiesced.

“After,” he said and she said nothing else before pulling him to bed by the hand.

He curled up beside her, pressed as close as physically possible with his head pressed to her breast as she kissed the top of his head and smoothed a hand through his unruly hair. She didn’t know how long they laid there, silent but awake before sleep claimed her. When she woke, he was gone and the place in her bed where he’d lain had gone cold. In his place were a note and a datastick.

I’m Sorry, the note read, written in his slanted, messy cursive. Padmé felt tears prick at her eyes, something thick and awful and nauseating curling in her stomach as she picked the datastick up and moved to plug it into the datapad she kept on her nightstand.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

He closed his eyes, let the pang of regret flow down and into him, then, finally, out. It came so suddenly easy, feeling what he needed before letting go, that he wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry. All his time as a Jedi he’d struggled, and he chose this moment to finally embrace — understand — what it was they’d been trying to teach him all along.

“Get to the point,” he said, trying to sound brave and not like he could fall apart at any second. The hand in his hair pulled, jerked his head up so he could look at those ugly, Sith eyes and Sidious’ grotesque grin. He’d spit if he could, but the Force tightened on his throat like Sidious had plucked the thought from his mind.

“The point,” the Sith hissed, “is that I will not waste the years I spent molding my perfect Apprentice.” Sidious crooned the word like it should mean more to Anakin. Like it shouldn’t make him sick to his stomach. “There is a place for you at my side, boy, whether you are there willingly or not.”

Sidious let him go, so suddenly he nearly fell on his face. Anakin blinked, confused as he pushed himself up, and caught the edge of that same, awful grin. Saw Sidious raise a hand, fingers splayed and pointing at him, and then nothing at all as he crackle of electricity and his own screaming filled the room.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Mace’s head throbbed, the same pounding pain that had lingered in his temples for months now. A shatterpoint, he knew, but any specific knowledge about it had remained firmly out of reach. Regardless of his headache — he’d had long years of practice managing it — he strolled into the Council’s Chambers, calm as a Jedi Master should be despite the urgency of the emergency meeting called. Problems, it seemed, just loved to pile up. First, an attack on the Chancellor in his own office the week before, then the disappearance of Knight Skywalker, and now whatever new event had cropped up.

He sighed, taking his seat among the mix of present Councilors. All of them, he was surprised to note, though most had called in via holo. Once he’d been seated, the room quieted and every eye turned to Master Yoda who’d called them together. The old troll’s face looked grim, his ears drooped as he all but hunched over his gimmer stick. Slick, icy dread slithered down Mace’s spine, knowing he wouldn’t like whatever the old Master had to say.

“Master Yoda?” Kenobi’s voice, mildly tinny over the holo, broke the silence when Master Yoda failed to speak up. The old Master seemed to wilt even further.

“Received a recording, we did, from Dooku.” Every Jedi in the room jerked, though none looked more than serenly alarmed at the news. “A datapad, he sent, early this morning. And another a gift.” Yoda’s voice wavered on the last word, just enough to be noticeable.

“May we see the device?” Plo Koon tipped his head to one side as he asked the question, a request made more for Yoda’s benefit than because any of them had any real need to see Dooku’s message for themselves.

Yoda shook his head and said: “With the investiators, it is. Work, they will, to see if a trick this is not. Deceiving us, Dooku may be.”

“Deceiving us?” Master Kolar leaned forward in his seat, a frown marring his features. Master Yoda nodded.

“Bring news, he does, of our missing knight.” Mace saw Kenobi jolt at the statement, wide-eyed. His fellow councilor had been devastated at the news of his former padawan’s disappearance. A few of the other Master’s spared Kenobi a sympathetic glance, before returning their attention to Master Yoda. “Claim, he does, that Knight Skywalker’s death his assassin, Ventress, is responsible for. Chased, he says she was, after thwarting an attempt on the Chancellor by young Skywalker she was.”

“Anakin,” Kenobi started, voice strangled. Mace frowned, rested his elbows on his knees, and steepled his fingers as he closed his eyes. “Anakin has fought Ventress many times, and come out unscathed before. To claim she killed him…” he trailed off.

“A gift, Dooku sent as well,” Yoda reminded.

The earlier chill in Mace’s spine solidified into a pit behind his stomach, a near physical weight as he said, low and pained: “Proof.”

The room was silent. Still. Their combined dread and anticipation thickened the air until it grew hard to breathe.

“Yes.”

Mace opened his eyes. He looked first to Obi-Wan, lips thinned but otherwise wearing a perfectly blank mask, and then to Master Yoda’s own grief-stricken face.

“His prosthetic and saber I have kept here to show you, but the rest. To the Healers for tests it has gone.”

“Healers?” Obi-Wan’s blank facade cracked. Mace was sure Obi-Wan’s face would have been pale as a sheet if not for the blue-tint of he holo-image projected onto his chair. Yoda said nothing for a long time, though Mace didn’t know if it was reluctance or grief that stalled him. “Master,” Obi-Wan whispered, and Mace felt sympathetic tears prick at his eyes for all the grief he could hear in that word alone. “Please.”

“Fingers,” Yoda said, grave and bland and disgusted. “Knight Skywalker’s, the Healers confirmed not long ago.”

Mace heard a few of the Masters’ gasp, and Obi-Wan’s own strangled, horrified noise, but Mace kept silent. Let his eyes slip closed once more, and bowed his head as a wave of bitter grief swept over him.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Anakin never woke for long, but when he did there were always two constants: pain and Sidious.

And hope. Always hope.

That Padmé had read what he’d left on the datastick — not enough but a start, and she’d always been so much smarter than him — and forgave him for the lie. For leaving.

Hope that Sidious would choke on his food and die, even if it meant Anakin rotted away in this cell.

Hope that the apologies he’d written to Ahsoka, Rex, and Obi-Wan made it to them, even if he hadn’t included half as much information in them as he had in his Angel’s.

And hope that maybe, one day, he might be saved. That Sidious’ attempt to deceive everyone would, at least this once, fail.

“How much longer will you remain disobedient, my Apprentice,” Sidious said as he slipped into the cell. Anakin closed his eyes for only a brief moment before turning a glare on his captor.

“Dunno,” he croaked, “how much longer ‘r you gonna live?”

Sidious hissed and repaid him with a blast of lightning in response.

Anakin screamed.

#whumptober2021 #no.5 #betrayal #star wars #anakin skywalker #sheev palpatine #fic #violence #implied torture #fake death #loss of limbs #my fanfic #the only limbs lost are fingers and it's only mentioned not shown

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 22 - Year 2: June

(ao3 link)

Qui-Gon Jinn’s funeral had been a somber affair populated by an extraordinary assortment of people that hastily filled the simple wooden seats that decorated the field just beside Hogwarts. Most of whom, Obi-Wan Kenobi found he did not know, but each seemed set on honoring the man who lay peacefully at the hearth of the pyre that had yet to burn. It had been his wish to be buried at Hogwarts, where he dedicated himself entirely and touched so many lives in the process. Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised to realize this, but it made it harder to forgive himself as his other professors insisted he must. He couldn’t help but feel that he had failed all of these strangers, who did nothing to warrant losing such a renowned wizard before his time.

Of course, he was also surrounded by those he knew. His parents weren’t in attendance, but most affluent families of the pureblood community weren’t. He hadn’t even bothered to tell them he was going, though surely they’d learn soon enough since mortality was not enough to ward off the influence of the press. He found he did not care either way.

Anakin sat to his left and Satine to his right with Cody and his whole line of brothers on her other side. Her hand had never left his, serving the necessary purpose of grounding him during the ceremony. Otherwise, he wasn’t positive he’d stay lucid during the various speeches commemorating Qui-Gon and that only would have been another stab of guilt for him to resurrect later.

There was not a dry eye in sight for each professor’s traditional tribute to their fallen colleague and friend, save for Obi-Wan and the daze he found himself trapped in. Professor Ti went on about his caring and inquisitive nature through his rants about muggle objects, while Professor Sifo Dyas rambled about a time Qui-Gon had saved him from the Whomping Willow. Professor Plo reminisced about their shared love of tea and Professor Palpatine on his determination and wit to finish crossword puzzles. Professor Windu’s had been surprisingly warm and heartfelt despite his typical tendency to disagree with Qui-Gon on a daily basis. It seemed, in the end, that's why they got along so well. They accepted their misgivings and their differences.

It was a tranquil first day of June- neither too hot nor chilly with its wide display of clear sky that met somewhere in the middle with the black lake to create one expanse of blue in the center of the horizon. The emerald grass that stretched over the hills like a snug blanket coupled with the soft chirping of birds in the distance made for it to all be picturesque at face value. It all felt balanced.

Headmaster Yoda, who was welcomed back almost immediately by demand of the entire staff and student body, stood with a lit torch at hand that even from his row, Obi-Wan could see the deep sadness that reflected in his eyes as he stared at the flickering flames.

“Student, colleague, friend of mine… Qui-Gon Jinn was.” Yoda’s deep brogue seemed to rumble in his little green chest more than usual as his words seemed caught in his throat. His long ears dipped down as he cast his eyes across the sea of people who sat with bated breath over what the Headmaster would say in tribute of the man that still lay untouched by anything except the sun. “Miss him, I will.”

Everyone could resonate with that.

“But gone, he is not.” He said finally, “Lives, his spirit and message do. In all of us, we must find him. In class, at home, in our hearts. Never far do the dead go, not when they leave so many of us behind. Sad, we will be, for a space there is left.”

Everyone’s attention was directed to the ceremonial empty golden chair that was positioned at the front of the field next to Mace Windu, Shaak Ti, and Sheev Palpatine.

“Fight til the end, he did, and do the same we must, every day. In class, at home, in our hearts. Fight to maintain and sustain the light he cast, we must.” He raised the tip of the torch to the wood at the edge of the pyre and quickly, it was engulfed in flames, “Burn, the fire and spirit of his life will for all of eternity. Keep us warm, it will, as well as guide us in times of darkness that lie ahead.”

Without any choreography indicating otherwise, Mace Windu stood to his feet and raised his wand, casting a small white glow at the tip. As if sensing the need to highlight such a gesture, a singular cloud hovered over the bright sun that would otherwise drown out any other light. The other two Heads of House followed suit as well as Yoda in tow. The audience, with a domino effect, each individually raised their wands triumphantly.

Obi-Wan felt a tug on the sleeve of his other arm and looked down to meet the glassy eyes of Anakin Skywalker.

“What happens to me now?” He asked quietly, hardly above the wisp of wind that fluttered across the grassland.

“You will still become a wizard, I swear.” Obi-Wan said with more sincerity than he likely had any right giving, “I’ll look out for you.”

While it wasn’t an answer on where he would be at the official close of the school year, it seemed to placate him enough to silence any further questions for the time being. This was just as well to Obi-Wan, who was content with the agonizing silence that had come over the crowd and allowed him not to face anymore people that he’d failed.

He did his best to beat the crowd back to the castle, even slipping from Satine and Cody, who were talking to Cody’s older brothers. While he liked the presence of the Fett’s, Obi-Wan was not in the mood to entertain.

In his aimless grief, he’d wound up at Qui-Gon’s office, which was poignant to say the least. As he ran a hand across his desk and glanced up at the array of books that filled the shelf across from him, he absently wondered how often he’d come here when he felt he was drowning too deeply in his own thoughts. How often had the man, who now had his own commemorative portrait near the Great Hall, saved him from himself? And what would he say now?

No answer from Obi-Wan would be sufficient, so he left the internal thought untouched and opted to sift through the book that still sat open on his desk. He promised himself he’d leave it just as he found it in some convoluted attempt at preserving his final quiet moments, but was curious what he’d been reading.

It was a yearbook from while Qui-Gon was at school. The page had been opened to a bunch of class pictures, which true to form with anything in their community, the pictures were moving. Most concerning, was that Maul was on this page, bearing all of his teeth during his photograph in a way that a canine might exert dominance. It probably should have been jarring to see a picture of the man he’d murdered in defense of Obi-Wan’s de facto father figure, but all Obi-Wan could feel was an unsteady sadness.

Qui-Gon would not want him to feel hate or hold a grudge. Maul was gone and wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again and that was the point Qui-Gon would fixate on.

If everything was supposed to be balanced, why did Obi-Wan feel so unsteady?

“I should have known I’d find you here.” Satine’s voice instantly interrupted his thoughts.

He tried to manage a shrug, “Just catching up on some light reading.”

As she practically glided across the floor towards him, Obi-Wan admired her, even in his dismal state, and how put together she always managed to look. She, like him and most others, wore all black. In her case, a long sleeve black skater-dress with matching floral stockings and shiny flat shoes. Her hair was half-up and half-down in long blonde tresses that curled in sweet waves down the length of her back. He wasn’t sure if it was the contrast from the darkness of her outfit or the fact that she’d been crying earlier, but her eyes had never looked so piercingly blue before this moment.

She rested a hand on the back of the chair at which he sat and peered over his shoulder. He could feel her tense beside him, but could do nothing to offer any real condolence other than a shared look of sympathy.

“It was sitting open on his desk.” He answered her silent question, “Do you think they knew each other? Beyond what he’s said in the past, that is.”

“If he was searching for answers in a yearbook, I find it doubtful that it was a close bond.” She said and lifted the book to catch the year, “Qui-Gon was only a second year when Maul was in sixth.”

That was the same age gap between Obi-Wan and Anakin. Unsure why that thought floored him so, Obi-Wan forced himself to remain focused on the facts at hand.

“This is the year Maul killed that girl.”

“The only minor to ever be convicted of first-degree murder in the history of the Wizengamot.” She said quietly and while he first thought he was just hearing things, he couldn’t help but notice how her voice caught on convicted as if there were others gone untouched by the trenches of history. Maybe there had been, but the sullen look on her face as she stared down at the young picture of Qui-Gon distracted him once again. He certainly didn’t see it fit to remind her that Maul hadn’t actually been caught and tossed away until years after he was convicted.

“We always used to come here for answers.” She said and she leaned on the edge of the desk, taking in the entirety of the classroom as though for the last time, “And often left with more questions. I suppose it’s only right this mystery not be completely put to bed.”

“And you’re alright with that?” He asked, unsure if he was asking for himself or for her.

She breathed out a sigh, “What choice do we have on the matter?”

She had a point. It wouldn’t change anything. The heaviness in Obi-Wan’s chest felt nearly unbearable for that moment, but he sucked in a breath and walked around the desk to join her. They sat so close they were nearly touching, but not quite. In a way, he never felt farther from her.

“Qui-Gon always said that a curious mind was a happy one.” He pointed out.

“But we must be careful which avenue we point our questions,” She countered without a trace of bite to her tone, “And decide when it’s wisest to ask them. Or if it’s wise at all.”

“If we do everything with the intent of being wise, then that negates all wisdom.” He debated and similar to her, lacked any momentum.

“But at some point,” Satine turned to look at him, “You need to ask yourself if you’re searching or deflecting.”

“That’s not something Qui-Gon ever said.” He whispered, simultaneously afraid to continue staring at her and to look away.

“No, but perhaps he needed to.” She said just as quietly and considered him under a scrutiny that instinctively made him shift, “You haven’t even cried since it happened.”

“I’m not much for crying.” And even as he said it, he knew he sounded like a cardboard cutout of a person rather than his true self.

“Well nobody likes crying, Ben.” She shook her head, “But mourning loss is a necessary part of life. It’s not healthy to bottle everything up inside.”

Obi-Wan could think of a floor-length list of emotions that have been welled up inside him for quite some time- some good and some bad, but all gone unexplored beyond what crept into his dreams at night.

“I know.” He said stiffly and diverted his attention to the floor, “But I’ve got bigger things to worry about than my feelings right now, Satine. Anakin is essentially homeless now since they’ve still yet to find his mother.”

“I heard the promise you made him.” She said.

“And I intend to keep it!” He asserted harshly, standing to his feet and putting some distance between them, “I promised Qui-Gon.”

“What?” She asked, sliding off the desk, but staying in place.

“After the Maul fight,” He breathed in, trying to ground himself from trembling at the thought of the memory, “His dying words were that I promise to look after Anakin. That he will save us all!”

Though his vision was becoming slightly blurry as he regarded Satine, the overwhelming sadness in her eyes as she stared at him openly without barring any of her feelings was what made him feel suddenly as though he’d been shoved underwater.

“I’m not sure who that puts more pressure on.” She said hoarsely, “You or Anakin.”

“You can’t tell Anakin this.” He said, “He’s got enough on his plate.”

“Yeah, he’s not the only one.” She admonished and stepped across the room to stand before him. Even if he wanted to back away from her, he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m fine.” He said softly, if only to appease the worry that worked its way between her brow.

“No you’re not.” She insisted as she drew closer, “And nobody expects you to be.”

“I have to.” He croaked, “Anakin-”

“-Needs you, I know.” She said, but although she admitted what he had previously insisted, he knew it never came without a caveat, “But you need people too, because you lost someone very dear to you.”

He opened his mouth and closed it, but found he didn’t really want to reject what she was saying, not when her tentative hands reached up and pulled him into a hug that felt like coming home. Or at least, what he imagined that was supposed to feel like.

He rested his chin on her shoulder as the embrace continued and released a sigh as he finally put to words what troubled him most, “I feel like I failed him.”

“I know.” It wasn’t dismissive in the slightest either, but as though she truly had known all along that this was what raked his mind at the late hours of the night since the moment his former mentor fell before him. It was because of how resolute she sounded that he started to believe her when she said, “You didn’t.”

After a long beat of just floating like that, he finally pulled back to look at her. Her arms were still hung over his shoulders and the gaze she fixed him with was still of concern, but it no longer felt like an intrusion. It just felt natural.

“Thank you.” He said a bit awkwardly, because what else did one say in this instance?

She smoothed out his suit whether he needed it or not and loosened his tie a bit, “That’s what friends are for.”

For a brief second, he remembered what he wanted to tell her before and the slight escape of emotional vulnerability was almost enough to send it soaring out of him. However, the remorse that still clung to them in this room felt like the wrong place and the wrong time for such a confession. Nothing like that should be tinged with sadness.

One way or another, they silently ended up sitting next to each other on Qui-Gon’s desk again, this time with legs touching. His remained still while hers swung forwards and backwards.

He took her hand gently, stirring her from her own heavy thoughts, “Headmaster Yoda asked that I help sort through some of Qui-Gon’s stuff. Closure and all that.”

She sniffed, but didn’t quite give way to any tears, “That’s a lot just for one person.”

“I’d be open to a little help.” He said, hoping she would take the bait.

She did, “Someone has to keep you from breaking everything.”

He scoffed, “That was one time.”

“And he never knew.” She said.

“Oh, he definitely knew.” He snorted, “Knowing him, he always knew.”

Qui-Gon Jinn knew a lot about many things and had passed on as much knowledge as time allotted to the very fortunate Obi-Wan Kenobi. Every silly and simple trinket seemed to evoke some piece of wisdom from the deceased wizard, but one that seemed louder than the rest came when Obi-Wan’s eyes drifted to a sprig of mistletoe that was held under a glass display- enchanted to never wither.

“You need to live your life.”

Satine leaned her head on his shoulder, “I’m going to miss quarreling with you in this office.”

He chuckled, “Something tells me the next professor in here won’t be quite as accepting of our constant intrusions.”

“We’ll have to find another space to rip each other apart,” She sighed wistfully, “The next professor has big shoes to fill.”

“Yeah,” He snorted, “Literally and metaphorically.”

“I’ll miss him.”

He nodded against her head, “Me too.”

“There you lot are!” Cody’s voice echoed abruptly through the corridor, startling both Obi-Wan and Satine away from each other in earnest. Off of this reaction, their friend grinned wryly. “I just came to tell you the food is out! I’ve never seen such a spread before in my life.”

“Thank you, Cody.” Obi-Wan chuckled and it actually felt legitimate for the first time in days, “What ever would we do without you?”

“Get into more trouble, I’m guessing.” He said, but his features softened a bit as he looked at the two of them, “Everything alright?”

Satine smiled lightly and tugged Obi-Wan by the hand out the door, which was for the best, seeing as he would never leave without her gentle prodding, and linked her other hand with Cody’s. “We will be.”

And that was an answer Obi-Wan could deal with. He only looked back once at Qui-Gon’s now vacant office, but settled his stare straight ahead and allowed himself to sink into the idle and comforting chatter that his friends naturally engaged in. He felt Satine squeeze his hand as they approached the Great Hall, as though silently asking if he was ready to face the masses and he returned the gesture in kind.

The rest of his life started today.

***

Anakin was told on numerous occasions by countless individuals that it would do him some good- being outside and enjoying the fresh air. Objectively, it was a gorgeous and quiet day, but any of its beauty was lost on Anakin as he pondered the growing uncertainty of his future. First, it had been his mom and his entire world had been shaken. The only pieces that had been slid into place was that he was to continue attending school at Hogwarts thanks to Qui-Gon. However, with no one to care for him and a strict policy against allowing students to stay for the summer, even that was laid to dust as well as someone who became important to Anakin in a short period of time.

He kicked a stray pebble as he walked the courtyard. It felt strange to linger around the grounds of the school without fear or risk. In a sense, it felt like the entire year was lost to Maul. And worst of all, he never did get the closure he desired on the whereabouts of his mother.

He tightened a fist and stared at the horizon. Repairs for the exterior to Hogwarts were still ongoing after Qui-Gon’s funeral. The bridge at which Maul fell was still sectioned off as it was deemed unstable and still being used for the purpose of investigations. No one tried to walk it anyway. The canyon beneath was already developing rumors of being haunted since a body had yet to be recovered.

Anakin was beginning to understand that no scary story could be worse than what he was living. Obi-Wan was, of course, hovering like he feared Anakin would go throw himself off the tip of the castle and dance around the topic that lingered above them. He’d made a promise to ensure Anakin would be a wizard and continue going to Hogwarts- a promise that Anakin knew he had no business making, but still held onto. What other hope did he have, after?

The kids who he believed were once his friends and then turned on him- Ferus Olin and Jax Pavan to name a couple- now looked at him with such pity that they didn’t even warrant him safe for teasing. Even Sebulba was laying off of him!

And it was more infuriating than anything else. He just wanted something to be mad at, to lash this growing fury that was rising in his throat like bile. He wanted someone to blame and he didn’t even have a clear answer to that. He’d seen Maul enter his house, but his mother had already been gone. Whatever disaster he caused had been after she left.

He shivered.

No, that wasn’t right. Taken. She would never leave Anakin willingly, even if someone wanted him to believe that.  Maul had no reason to lie about taking his mother, not when he so freely killed two of Anakin’s professors and wanted to do the same to him. That left Dooku, essentially, as people who wanted Anakin to suffer. The slimy former professor operated almost purely in deceit and would surely love for Maul to take a fall for his crimes. He’d been training Ventress on how to sneak attack Anakin all year and thankfully, she was terrible at her job or else it might have worked.

He’d let it get into his head that as the Chosen One, he was unstoppable and maybe that was true to a degree, but all it seemed to do was mow down the people he loved. But then, when he tried to go at it alone, people still suffered. Was this not escapable?

He toyed with the necklace still in the pockets of his robes. Did anything he did make a difference? Or was Qui-Gon right about being at will of the fates? It was an awful lot for a 12 year old to take, though he realized with disarming clarity that he was to be 13 in only two weeks’ time. It would be the first year he’d have no one to celebrate with.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” A pacifying voice disturbed his increasingly dark line of thoughts and he was relieved to turn and see Professor Palpatine’s kind eyes looking down at him.

“No, I was just thinking,” He shrugged, “I don’t mind a break.”

He knew under more pleasant circumstances, one of his friends would make a joke about how he usually was on vacation from thinking, but the unspoken jest fell flat. Palpatine gathered the front of his robes as he took a seat on the nearby ledge and patted the spot next to him for Anakin to follow suit.

“I wanted to apologize if it’s felt like I’ve distanced myself from you during such a difficult time. I wanted to offer you the time to properly mourn,” He said and then fixed him with a look that Anakin had grown familiar with over the past semester, “I understand you and Qui-Gon were quite close.”

“Yeah,” Anakin said.

“And it is to my understanding that you haven’t been very vocal with the mind healers that Headmaster Yoda has set you up with.”

No, he hadn’t been. He didn’t even know those people! How was he supposed to bear his heart and soul over losing two very important people in his life? How was he supposed to reconcile that with strangers? Moreover, they would surely judge him for the creeping eeriness that lingered at the perimeter of his heart.

“They wouldn’t understand.” He said, not caring for a moment how helpless that made him sound, “Obi-Wan can talk to them. He’s the one who got to do something about Qui-Gon’s death while I was locked inside the Room of Requirement.”

Palpatine’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, “I did hear that you managed to discover it…”

“Everyone’s been asking me where, but I don’t even know! It just popped up in front of me one moment.”

“You have every right to be quite angry,” Palpatine said, “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy around here for you. Losing not one, but two people in the span of a year would cause anyone, let alone someone as young as yourself, immeasurable grief.”

That wasn’t even factoring in Professor Fisto’s death, which felt a little callous to Anakin.

“And I could understand why you might be upset with everyone, including Qui-Gon Jinn, himself.”

Anakin’s head snapped to Palpatine at his words, mostly because of the gnawing clarity at which they resonated with Anakin’s deepest and darkest thoughts, “Why would I be mad at him?”

“Search your feelings, Anakin,” Palpatine said gently, “You know what I say is true. It’s not something many, even the healers, would understand, because while Qui-Gon did die fighting to protect this school and you, he still left a vacancy at his own misstep.”

Being mad at someone for dying also felt incredibly callous, but Anakin didn’t grow rash or angry at this explanation but somehow… Validated. He loved and cared for Qui-Gon and appreciated everything he did, but in the end, a promise was still broken and Anakin was alone.

“I’m not here to sugarcoat anything,” Palpatine continued, “I don’t believe friends should do that.”

Anakin didn’t think so either, which was part of what was so infuriating about these past couple of weeks. Everyone was trying to be nice, but he was only feeling the lack of authenticity at their smiles that didn’t reach their eyes and their empty promises of support. He’d heard it all before at this point. Now, honesty, regardless of if it hurt, sounded appealing.

“Obi-Wan hasn’t told me exactly how it happened.” Anakin revealed with a heavy sigh.

His professor quirked a white eyebrow, “Understandably, he might never tell anyone, but we can draw the conclusion that Maul got the best of Qui-Gon somehow.”

“I just don’t get it.” Anakin sighed heavily, “Qui-Gon was so invested in the future and the knowledge around it. It seemed like he knew everything.”

“Sometimes adults allow students to perceive their strengths in an amplified matter to give them hope,” He said, “I’ve never believed in doing such a thing.”

Anakin nodded, “It’s felt like everyone’s been doing that all year. At the end of it all, it was a kid who took out Maul.”

“Yes, but not on accident, Anakin,” Palpatine shrugged, “You of all people should understand that a person’s age and stature should have no bearing on how they’re estimated. In the end, young Obi-Wan had something that Qui-Gon did not.”

“What’s that?”

“Obi-Wan was willing to do it.” Palpatine said, “To take that step across the line of light and dark. It’s a careful one to walk, but he acted out of revenge and surely channeled some of his hate and anguish to do so.”

“And that makes you more powerful?”

“When properly used, yes.” Palpatine said, “Qui-Gon never believed in utilizing emotion in magic. He felt it deluded oneself. Dooku taught him that though…”

“And you taught Maul, who was only emotion, so which is right?” Anakin ran a hand through his hair. It was impossible to deny that the anger that Obi-Wan felt and the heartbreak of watching Qui-Gon die surely gave him a boost in power. What was described sounded like something he could never picture regular old Obi-Wan doing on his own.

“Maybe we can discover that together?” Palpatine asked tentatively, “You lost a guardian and I lost a student, regardless of the polarized intentions they had.”

Anakin nodded, “Just as long as I don’t turn out like Maul.”

“No, I don’t think you will, my boy,” Palpatine chuckled, “I don’t think you will be anything remotely like Maul.”

Anakin smiled as he looked up and over at Palpatine. It was a beautiful day and maybe, just maybe, he’d make something of it.

***

Although Obi-Wan couldn’t discount the somber atmosphere that still hovered over the school, it felt a little whiplashing how quickly everyone was to move past the attack on the school and the death of Qui-Gon Jinn. He supposed no one else had, had a front row seat to watch their favorite professor be stabbed right in front of them. Today however, it was almost like the whole thing hadn’t happened at all. It was the final Quidditch match of the year, the previous game, while incomplete, had been handed over to Slytherin per Hufflepuff’s surrender. The Great Hall was filled with excited chattering and enthusiastic yelling. The attention was off of him at least, many hadn’t stopped bothering him for all the gruesome details since the attack, but the excitement in the room made him feel like he was suffocating.

“Perhaps, I’ve ought to go get ready,” He bounced his fork between his fingers as he spared a glance at the doors, “It’s almost time to leave anyways.”

“Ben...” Satine frowned at him. He knew she was concerned, but she was polite enough not to bring it up.

“Right on, mate,” Cody came up behind them, a hand landing on each of their shoulders, “Early bird catches the worm and all that,” The Gryffindor captain wasn’t as eager as he normally would be. Between the attack and how far Gryffindor was down for the Quidditch cup, it was only his love of the sport that kept him optimistic at all.

“I’m not playing today,” Obi-Wan said as he straightened his silverware. Satine seemed to relax at the news while Cody's eyes widened.

“What? You sure?” He asked and Satine shot him a warning look, “Nothing gets my mind off things like being up in the air,” He shrugged, defending his point.

“I’m sure,” Obi-Wan just nodded, “I’d prefer my feet on the ground at the moment,” The last time they hadn’t been was when he’d been dangling off the side of the bridge.

“Well, alright,” Cody relented easily and offered instead, “Wanna walk down with us?”

His eyes caught sight of Anakin lingering in the doorway waiting for Cody, or maybe himself. So he rose from his spot at the table easily.

“You could always sit with me if you want too,” Satine let him know as she blew softly on her tea to cool it down.

“I’ll be expected to be on the benches,” Even if the thought was tempting, “I’ll see you afterwards? Studying?”

Satine nodded at the same time Cody mumbled, “When on earth are you doing anything else?”

He felt Satine’s eyes followed him all the way out the door.

Cody filled the silence with Quidditch tips as the three of them trailed after the Gryffindor team down to the pitches. Anakin had been a little quiet lately, so Obi-Wan was grateful that he had plenty of people surrounding him from his own house. He was sure that the Fett’s and even Padmé likely didn’t let Anakin wallow.

“I’ll try not to knock you out Obi-Wan,” Anakin announced after Cody had finished a rather long spiel of Quidditch related injuries from the past 10 years, “I’ve been told I hit pretty hard.”

He certainly wasn’t lying and as he continued to grow, Obi-Wan was quite sure he would only be stronger, “I think hitting a benched player is considered a foul.”

“It is,” Cody confirmed, but Anakin stopped walking just as they got to the edge of the pitch.

“They benched you?”

“I asked not to play,” Obi-Wan only paused in his stride when Cody did. Anakin’s gaze flicked between the two of them rapidly. Although Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, he was clearly thinking through a few things.

“Should I- Maybe I shouldn’t play either,” Anakin said slowly, “I mean...” He trailed off, clearly thinking. Cody crossed his arms tightly, clearly not liking the idea of his star player being benched, but not willing to deny the request if he was asked.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed grandly. It was so obvious to him that Anakin would enjoy the distraction. Much like Cody, Anakin clearly revered flying as it would likely allow him to clear his head and to work towards a simple goal, “You should play.”

“But I-” Anakin turned, just enough to look off towards where Qui-Gon’s funeral had been held and Obi-Wan tried not to flinch at the thought.

“I’ve never liked Quidditch,” He reminded his mentee, “And although I take pride in my position on the team, they do not need me today,” Nahdar Vebb would do fine just as he always did, “Your team, however, does need you if they have a chance of winning,” Anakin stood a little taller at the thought, looking towards Cody for confirmation.

“Well, it’s always going to be easier with you-” Obi-Wan cut his friend off before he could continue.

“If you really don’t feel like playing I’m sure Cody will find a substitute for you...”

Anakin hesitated, “It’s not that I don’t want to play-”

“If you want to then you should,” He stepped forward, putting his hands on Anakin’s shoulders. Qui-Gon’s final request seemed to echo around in his head, but he ignored it as best as he could, “You’re a fantastic Beater, Anakin. One of the best Hogwarts has seen in my time here,” Anakin’s eyes were watching him, wide, impressionable. Obi-Wan was reminded once again just how young he was, “Ravenclaw will be playing a clean game today. I’m not going to let you in on our strategy, obviously,” He shot a short, pointed look to Cody, “But Gryffindor is going to need all the help they can get.”

“Oh yeah? You’re going down! A lion would eat your bloody bird for breakfast!” Cody caught on to the energy and Anakin shook off Obi-Wan’s hands to go join him.

“Yeah your team has no chance against us!” He had perked up significantly.

“I’d think a raven could outsmart a lion,” Obi-Wan shrugged playfully, “Guess you’ll just have to prove it.”

“Oh we will!” Anakin called as he resumed a swift walk towards Gryffindor’s locker room, “You’ll see.”

“See ya after the game mate,” Cody threw one last wave at Obi-Wan before heading swiftly after the second year.

Obi-Wan shook his head. For now, Anakin was easy to motivate. He could only hope the boy would keep some of that enthusiasm in his later years. He moved to walk towards his team’s locker room when a shadow fell over him.

“How interesting,” Obi-Wan turned slowly to meet the narrowed eyes of his parents, “Lying to your friends in Gryffindor house,” She smiled down at him, but it never reached her eyes, “Unless you were planning on breaking your promises to us.”

“No, of course not,” He answered automatically, “I only thought...”

“You think too much,” His father took a step forward, blocking even more of the light from streaming into the space, “I don’t believe we came all the way down here just to watch you sit pathetically on the sidelines.”

“Of course not,” Obi-Wan swallowed the spark of frustration, “Had I known you were coming I-”

“-You should have anticipated it,” His mother told him.

‘You’ve never come before,’ Obi-Wan held his tongue and instead just dipped his head in apology, “I’ll play.”

His mother scoffed as if he’d said something so obvious. She turned to leave and his father gave him one more steely look.

“You’d do well to remember your place,” As if he could see straight through him he added, “Kenobi’s don’t show any weakness.”

He finally turned and followed her out, making their way to the stands. The Ravenclaw team who had arrived just at the tail end of the dispute moved out of their way.

“Alright Kenobi?” Eeth clapped a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, spinning him towards the direction of the locker room.

“Of course,” He responded easily enough, “Say Eeth, could I ask a favor of you?”

He would play, it was the simplest solution. His father was wrong about his reasonings though. Obi-Wan wouldn’t view having loved and lost as a weakness.

***

The atmosphere in the stands was charged with anticipation. Quidditch was always popular with the student body, but now it seemed they were latching onto the sense of normality with an iron fist. Many Ravenclaws had done up face paint and enchanted signs that flashed silver and blue letters cheering on the team. Gryffindor was leading chants from their end of the field and Hufflepuff and Slytherin houses split as the students picked a side. There still weren’t as many students as there should be, practically all those sent home had determined it would be a waste to come back to school for only a few weeks. Ravenclaw was down a few players because of it, and Gryffindor truly should count themselves lucky that their entire starting team was willing to play.

Even so, it seemed as if the stands were full just from the energy pouring out of them. Satine’s eyes were on Ben the moment he had been visible on the field. As if that was particularly out of the ordinary. She would deny such accusations if there were anyone brave enough to suggest anything. The familiarity of the whole thing was enough for her to not notice something was amiss until she realized that Ben was standing alongside his fellow starting players on the field rather than standing at the sidelines with the backups.

She sat up straighter, eyes darting around the field, looking to see if there was anything else out of place or perhaps for the reasoning behind the action. Satine had sat through her fair share of Quidditch matches in the past, but she knew she still didn’t know everything about the sport. Cody and Eeth Koth were sharing a word in the middle of the field. That was the only thing she could say was unusual, but not unheard of.

It wasn’t enough to make her suspicious of anything until Cody turned looking up at the Ravenclaw stands. She frowned, moving to turn around and get a clue as to what he could be so interested in.

“Nothing like the World Cup, is it,” A chilly voice that was unfortunately enough for Satine to recognize caused her to freeze in place and certainly not turn around any further. Obi-Wan’s parents were sitting only a few seats behind her.

“Box seating would be preferable,” Mr. Kenobi mused, “Hogwarts doesn’t show parents the respect they deserve.”

“Do you remember Beauxbaton?” Mrs. Kenobi asked, “They certainly had class.”

“We were there on ministry business,” He scoffed, “They hardly would have shown as much effort otherwise.”

“A pity.”

Satine hadn’t spent much time around the Kenobi’s when they weren’t berating her and her lack of status. Sitting nearly frozen and unnoticed just a few feet away, she could say for sure that they weren’t any more pleasant when left to their own devices. Blessedly, the players took to the air and both of the Kenobi’s lapsed into silence as the game began.

Of course that silence couldn’t have lasted longer than Satine’s patience. Ben hadn’t even done anything and they were quick to open their mouths and spew endless criticism from everything from his form to his choice of broom.

“None of your precision rubbed off on him,” Mrs. Kenobi muttered to her husband as Ben nearly dropped the Quaffle before chucking it hard and fast at the first free chaser, “He should be practicing more.”

Satine grit her teeth, sitting on her hands as they went on and on. Their voices were so abrasive to her own internal thoughts about Ben while he was playing. Where they saw a clumsy hit, she saw the way he considered each move carefully. Where they saw awkward form, she saw the way he was careful to stay on the damned broom. However, even with her own opinions about Ben’s performance, he certainly wasn’t at his best today. He’d let several quaffles through, enough that Eeth was hovering around the hoops nervously. Gryffindor wasn’t easy to beat on a good day and little slip ups weren’t helping.

“It’s like the boy’s never played a day in his life. How embarrassing,” His father scoffed and Satine bit back a stream of choice words and grimaced as Ben missed catching the Quaffle practically right in front of him and instead caught a bludger to the chest. He rolled a few times on his broom. It was enough for Eeth to finally call a timeout and Ravenclaw rushed towards their bench.

Satine, while grateful he was safe and firmly planted on the ground, didn’t like the way his parents made a disapproving noise.

“Ravenclaw’s a soft house,” Mrs. Kenobi spat, “I suppose it always has been.”

“6 years in the sport and he can’t take a hit,” Mr. Kenobi added, “Slytherin would have taught him better.”

“Oh look there,” His mother growled, “He’s got himself benched.”

Mr. Kenobi made an odd sound that Satine had to assume was some sort of laugh, “I can’t blame the captain. What a pitiful performance.”

Satine stewed quietly, unable to take her eyes off Ben or her ears off the Kenobi’s. She tried to reason with herself. Making such a fuss about it wouldn’t do anything to help Ben or her. No matter what she said they wouldn’t listen anyways. Still she found herself slowly turning around eyebrows twitching, mouth opening to give them a piece of her mind.

She only caught the tail end of Mrs. Kenobi’s long robe as she disappeared down the rickety stairs.

So they didn’t even deem the game worth watching if they didn’t have the opportunity to bad mouth their own son at every twist and turn. Satine growled, startling a few first years behind her before she turned back toward the match. Very well. She wouldn’t be able to prove anything to them in words so she would instead prove to them in her continued support.

***

Cody easily dodged a bludger as it rocketed its way back to Anakin. Despite Anakin’s earlier enthusiasm, he was fading ever faster. Cody was tempted to bench him just as Ravenclaw had done with Obi-Wan. Unfortunately Gryffindor needed the edge that Anakin could give them. Not to mention, Cody knew Anakin needed the distraction. He was only 12 and had faced death this year, not to mention he wasn’t yet sure what was going to happen to him when the year ended. It was an awful lot to put on a young boy’s shoulders.

Anakin managed to hit the bludger, but Eeth was able to dodge it just in time. Rush Clovis ended up being at the receiving end of the blow and he looked around wildly for where the thing had come from in the first place.

“Shake it off Rush,” Cody called with a wince. It was bad enough dealing with the other team’s beaters, without also worrying about your own.

“Sorry!” Anakin called, but Cody just waved him off as he moved to intercept the Quaffle. Taking it down the field and sinking it easily past Kenobi’s replacement. Vebb was a good Keeper, but he knew a lot less about Cody than Obi-Wan did.

Cody was nearly knocked off his broom as a flash of blue and silver streaked past him followed nearly immediately by his own team’s seeker, Moteé. They were both moving with speed and precision, trying to knock each other off their brooms in order to claim victory. He saw the glint in Moteé’s eye as she moved to put even more pressure on her broom when he also saw Skywalker raise his bat. Before he could call for Anakin to stop, the bludger was hit, rocketing towards them just as Moteé had pulled ahead.

There was a sickening smack as Moteé spun out, crashing towards the field below. The bludger still managed to clip Ropal sending him pitching forwards into the snitch. He flipped over, but managed to stay in the air with one hand. The other went to his snout where he coughed out the snitch.

“Damn it,” Cody cursed as he dropped to the ground while cheers and blue and silver sparks flooded the air.

“Moteé!” Anakin too had hit the ground, heels practically tearing up the grass as he screeched to a halt, “I’m so sorry! I-” Whether it was from Moteé’s glare or Cody’s warning look, he quickly cut himself off.

“Nasty hit,” Cody knelt down next to her, “I saw what you were doing, definitely a smart move.”

“Would have won us the game-” He hastily cut her off.

“I know,” She was swept away quickly by Madam Nema and a few other professors as Anakin approached Cody nervously.

“Is she okay? I didn’t mean to hit her...”

“She’ll be fine, probably just a concussion,” He clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulders, “We’re going to have to work on your intuition some, but everyone makes mistakes,” And when Anakin looked upset he sighed and added, “There’s always next year, kid.”

***

Satine didn’t waste any time rushing down to the field upon Ravenclaw’s win. She wanted to find Ben as soon as possible. He hadn’t wanted to play in the first place and having such a rough game, despite their overall win, wouldn’t do much to improve his mood. She was nearly to the field when she nearly got run over by Cody and the other Gryffindor’s filing noisily back to their locker room.

“Satine?” Cody moved aside, letting his team continue to file past. They were a little more subdued considering their loss, but the game had still been a much needed break, “If you’re looking for Kenobi, he’s not on the field.”

“How do you know I’m looking for him? Maybe I was looking for you,” She crossed her arms, but she glanced out towards the field giving herself away if she hadn’t already been so obvious.

“Oh please,” He grimaced, “I saw them in the stand you know. You aren’t here to sympathize with Gryffindor’s defeat.”

Satine frowned, “I am sorry you didn’t get your win this year-” But Cody waved her off.

“You know what they say, Satine, third time’s the charm. We’ll get you next year!”

“So,” Satine shifted on her feet, “If he’s not on the field...”

“I’m not sure where he went. One minute I’m giving my team a once over the next he’s nowhere to be seen.”

“Ravenclaw Locker room?” Satine suggested and Cody just turned easily in that direction, leading the two of them there.

“I figured he’d run towards the school, library maybe?”

“Well, his parents are hardly willing to enter Ravenclaw spaces, but I wouldn’t put it past them to enter the library if they’re looking for him,” Satine reasoned and Cody hummed in thought.

When they reached their destination, they peeked inside and her suspicions were found to be correct.

The room was empty besides Ben, sitting alone on a bench polishing his broom handle meticulously. Satine figured it was already well done enough to see your reflection in it, but he was always particular.

“Hey,” Cody called, entering first, before Satine could find the best way to break the silence herself, “Congrats on the win.”

“Oh, Cody,” He looked startled by the intrusion, looking past Cody to catch her eye, “Satine,” He smiled at her and she mirrored it with one of her own. He looked back towards Cody, “Thanks, I think I may have hindered us more than helped us. Sorry about the loss,” He offered his sympathy and Cody sat down across from him leaving Satine to drop down right next to Ben.

“Next year for sure,” Cody repeated with conviction.

“I don’t think you did bad at all,” Satine leaned towards Ben, the heat of anger that had been stoked by his parents nearly the whole game resurfaced. He leaned away surprised, “You did really well, you’re a great Keeper!”

“Thank you?” He answered. She was glad he had no idea what she was really getting at, that meant his parents hadn’t found him to complain yet, “I messed up quite a bit today, I definitely wasn’t on my game.”

“Well, you didn’t want to play in the first place,” Cody shrugged and the air between them grew cold as each member struggled to find a foothold in the conversation.

“We still won,” Satine reminded him firmly and he blinked at her before parroting.

“We still won.”

***

Anakin kicked a stone as hard as he could into the lake. He didn’t really want to go back to the common room and face a whole bunch of people he’d just let down. His team didn’t even seem that disappointed, but Anakin felt that maybe they should be. If it wasn’t for him, they may have won the game! Plus if it wasn’t for him a mass murderer wouldn’t have been disrupted the entire school year. He kicked another rock.

“Careful mate,” Rex appeared at the corner of his vision, picking up a smooth stone and flicking it so it skipped across the lake, leaving ripples in its wake, “There’s said to be creatures living in there. I don’t think they’d like to land a rock to the head.”

Anakin sighed deeply, dropping down to the ground, his shoes just brushing the edge of the water, “I can’t believe I lost us the game!”

“Yeah if you were going to take out our seeker, you should have done it earlier. Could’ve given me a chance to play,” Rex joked sitting next to him.

“I could have killed Moteé!” Anakin looked at Rex, guilt swirling around at the thought.

“You didn’t though,” Rex shrugged, “Moteé knew what she signed up for, so did Ropal, so did Cody, so do I. It’s Quidditch mate! It’s dangerous.”

“Yeah, but I never expected to be the one causing the danger,” Anakin grumbled and Rex laughed.

“Sorry to say, but I think danger might be in your bones,” When Anakin didn’t respond, Rex punched him in the arm, “Come on, you wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless it was a fly actively trying to hurt your friends. Sure, Moteé’s a little mad, but you would be too if you’d been knocked around twice in one year. She’ll get over it.”

“I should make her an apology card,” Anakin decided as he flicked a rock into the water, “I’ll leave it on her bedside table while she’s sleeping so she doesn’t try to strangle me.”

“That’s the spirit!”

***

Obi-Wan had been under the misguided impression that once the drama with Maul settled down that he and his fellow prefects would finally earn themselves a decent night’s sleep. Of course, once he’d drawn up those conclusions in his head, he hadn’t factored in the possibility of losing his favorite professor in the process. He never would have thought, even when things were at their worst, that the earth would allow itself to turn without the brilliance that was Qui-Gon Jinn. Even weeks later and for likely longer than he could imagine, he still struggled to sleep at the horrible visions that filled his eyes when he closed them. He wondered how long such a reaction would last and hoped it wouldn’t be for as long as he missed the man, because he would always miss Qui-Gon Jinn.

Satine tried to insist that it was okay to mourn and grieve and he knew she was right. He’d never judge someone else for feeling depressed over losing someone important, but it was harder for Obi-Wan to reconcile this about himself.

If there was one thing that helped take his mind off of the persistent ache that gnawed at his chest, it was the influx of schoolwork. If they were going to be remotely ready for finals, they needed to play a massive game of catch-up. Satine, in particular, still had work to catch up on from the month she’d been frozen in carbonite.

It’s what brought them to tirelessly working on outlines, notecards, study guides, and mock quizzes just about every night in the common room.

He nearly scowled just thinking about how easily Ventress had gotten off for her involvement in that fiasco. She could have permanently disfigured students or worse! She could have killed them and according to Satine, she didn’t seem to care all that much about if she did or not.

She should have been arrested or at the very least expelled, but no, it was simply a year of detention and her losing her prefect status to atone for her crimes. She hadn’t even lost any house points for Slytherin, though that might have been in fairness to the other students of Slytherin house. He had no doubts that her affluent family, or adopted family to be more correct now, had a say in striking up the plea deal.

Since his only source to any real information was gone, he didn’t know what she told them about Dooku. All he knew was that it was apparently enough to be useful.

“I think Yoda believes her more dangerous out there with a vendetta than in school,” Satine’s tired voice interrupted his thoughts and startled as he was, he really shouldn’t have been. He was practically staring a hole in the newly added section about countering carbonite curses. It was taught by Yoda himself and learned during his time away.

“Or he’s afraid what Dooku will do to her if he expels her,” He grumbled and held his quill a little tighter. If he was being honest, the words were starting to blur from the way his eyes glazed over in exhaustion. Maybe, he’d actually get to sleep tonight.

“I mean it’s reasonable,” Satine shrugged, “I don’t want Dooku to hurt anyone, even her.”

That was the admirable thing about Satine. Her consistency with her noble values was something to be revered. Ventress could truly benefit from taking notes. For instance, having morals at all would be a vast improvement.

“I don’t either,” He sighed, “That doesn’t mean I have to like what she did to you… And the others.”

He might have added that a bit too late. He’d been horrified when discovering Rabé in Hogsmeade, but he did guiltily admit that Satine’s freezing was different. So much so, that he wondered if he’d look at the place the same next time he ventured there. So much had been taken away from them this year. Experiences, laughs, people. He was sure this would be a year too heavy to bear had he lost Satine too.

She sighed, “It was truly abhorrent, but it was a bit like waking up when I came out of it. I’d expect the worst part was for all of you who had to sit around and stare at my stony face.”

His tongue grew a bit fat when he thought to comment that looking at her face had never been a problem for him and at his own reluctance to admit: anyone else. Still, all he could think to do was peer over to her forearm, which lay turned facing up on the couch. He could still see the faint little scars of nails that had dug into her arm.

Catching his eyes, she carefully unraveled her sleeve to cover them and he looked at her sheepishly, to which she only shrugged. She might have said it was like waking up, but he had a feeling that getting frozen hadn’t been like falling asleep.

“She still deserved far more than detention.” He said.

“Of course,” She scoffed, “Seems like she’s got quite the chip on her shoulder now, though. She’s been laying pretty low.”

“Even during the match.” He admitted and rubbed his eyes, “I can’t help but wonder if she’s planning anything.”

“Considering how she was dumped by Dooku and left to burn, I’d say it involves turning some of those witchy powers onto him if she can get within arm’s reach.”

“I’ve had enough talk on Sith lords this year,” He yawned, “Maybe next year.”

She snorted dryly, “Yes, I’m sure Dooku will take that into deep consideration.”

“We’ve only got a couple weeks left,” He reminded her and even as awful as this year had turned out being, he couldn’t help but be surprised that it was nearly over. “One more year left.”

“Don’t start,” She warned, “I’d like to at least pass my finals first.”

Now, it was his turn to snort, “Satine, I know we’re tired, but we’re not completely delusional.”

She closed her book and faced him. Her bright blue eyes were bloodshot and struggling with effort to stay awake, “That implies we’re delusional at all.”

“Maybe we are,” He said, “I know you aren’t ever one to hold back when you disagree with one of my less conventional plans. Not to mention your obvious opinions on my possible color blindness.”

“To be color blind, you’ve actually got to mix up or not see certain colors, Ben.” She groaned, leaning her head back at the armrest. “You’ve just got batty taste.”

“I don’t know about that.” He said, pulse quickening. Nothing about this moment quite seemed right, but he’d been delaying in telling her how he felt for far too long. Recently, he’d been shown numerous signs of realizing how short life was. And yes, Cody had been right, delivering the sentiment of telling her how he cared in the form of a card was cowardly and short-sighted.

Telling her at the funeral would have just been plain depressing and any time before that had been consumed with the very real fear that their lives were about to be taken away. He still kicked himself for how he’d parted with her before seeking out Anakin. A kiss on the hand? What was this? A Victorian period piece?

In his defense, that was where he’d gotten most of his exposure to the romance genre.

In between the deftly heady spaces of remorse that clouded his thoughts, he regretted not spewing exactly how he felt or at least properly kissing her to make it clear. Though the prospect of being so forward like that now reddened him to a palpable flame. Now, it felt like a moment had passed between them and though he suspected she had some level of understanding, it seemed she wouldn’t be bringing it up either.

Unless she’d gotten over it- nope! He was not talking himself out of it. They were alone, which was a triumph in and of itself. He’d never want something of this nature to be spoken in front of an audience. They were also considerably peaceful, so much so that he felt like he might actually fall asleep by the comfort of warmth that radiated off her profile. He looked at their hands and how they were only a quick movement from touching. What would she do if he just held her hand?

Maybe, just maybe, this year didn’t have to be so dreadful after all. Qui-Gon’s words about learning to live flowed through him and seemed to finally make sense as he looked over at Satine through lowered eyes. The very least he could do was honor his mentor’s wishes.

“Hear me when I say that you need to live your life.”

“I don’t think I have batty taste at all,” He reiterated after a long pause.

“Is that so?” Satine responded slowly, “I beg to differ.”

“If I had batty taste I wouldn’t be friends with Cody.” He reasoned, “Nor would I have chosen Anakin as my protege.”

“Mmm, perhaps,” She said quietly.

“I wouldn’t have such a preference in dessert or soft animals if my taste was foul and I wouldn’t like all the books you recommend.”

“Unless your tendency to appreciate ugliness is contagious,” She chuckled.

He kept his eyes fixated on the fire ahead, really struggling to look at her as he figured out his way around the sentence that swirled around his brain. It shouldn’t be hard and he knew the stress was him overthinking it. He didn’t dare to dream of the consequences, because he wasn’t sure dreaming was in the cards for him now. Really, all that mattered to him was that it was said and that she knew.

His first step in attempting to truly live was gently taking Satine’s hand in his, interweaving their fingers and admiring at how perfect of a fit it seemed and how soft her hands were. He took the way they immediately curled around his as a good sign as any to continue with what plagued his broken heart.

“Well, I should hope you don’t feel that way,” He winced, “Because… the truly defining reason that I couldn’t possibly have that much of a predilection towards the unseemly is you.”

She didn’t answer right away, but his nerves prevented her from really doing so, “That is to say, I think you’re quite lovely, or more accurately, I think you’re the loveliest person I’ve ever seen or met. Inside and out.”

Because he really didn’t need her thinking he was sitting around drooling over her looks all day, no matter how impressive he found them.

“Because you’re everything I or anyone could ever want. You’re beautiful, brilliant, compassionate, witty, creative… Really, I could go on for so long that I’d need a dictionary of proper words to articulate how in awe I am of you, even without romantic connotation.”

Ugh.

“But there are plenty of romantic connotations, of course,” He coughed, “I wanted to tell you sooner. And the reason that it’s been so hard for me to say that is not because I don’t feel strongly in this regard, but the opposite. It’s intimidating for someone like me, who’d been taught otherwise about passion, but my feelings for you go beyond and within logic, forming what I can only assume is… Love.”

Silence.

Oh, no, had he said something wrong?

He turned his head to brave the consequences of his words, hoping that she would at least be the good sort of speechless. She had kissed him at Christmas. It wasn’t like these conclusions weren’t coming from somewhere. That didn’t stop his head from racing at a mile a minute with other possibilities.

They stilled when he received the sight of Satine Kryze, passed out against over the side of the couch, leaning on the armrest with her full body weight, her hair tumbling over the edge in a blonde waterfall. She was captivating, even in slumber, of course, so he was left in the debilitating and confusing predicament of his heart inflating and deflating.

She hadn’t heard any of it?

He blew out a breath like a balloon releasing air and leaned back. It wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted this moment to go at all. His head was pounding with a headache and he massaged his temples. Okay, he was officially and regretfully scratching out “firelit study session” as a possible setting to express his romantic intentions towards her. He was beginning to feel like some higher power might genuinely have it out for him.

He looked back down at their still joined hands. Any residual disappointment fell away at the sight and he gently and tenderly raised her hand to his lips for a careful kiss. It was nothing like the firm and desperate one he’d parted her with before, but a true promise of hope.

“Another time.” He whispered and without releasing her hand, nestled into the comfortable couch, finding a blanket out of the parchments and books across their laps, and for the first time all month, Obi-Wan slept a fearless sleep.

***

With Quidditch having ended for the year and nothing else to look forward to beyond finals (a truly bleak thought for Anakin), he realized with sharp clarity that this might be the last week he spends at Hogwarts should he never be able to return. While he had previously been depressed, he was filled with a new sense of purpose. He wanted to make it count.

Starting with how he was finally going to get a few things off his chest.

He didn’t walk lightly or quietly past those who pitied him, instead pushing past them with a heavy force of nature propelled by his inner desires finally coming to fruition. Regardless of consequence, he was a Gryffindor fearless and true, and he would be owning up to that title one way or another this year.

He found her sitting surprisingly alone on the front lawn and nearly toppled over a loose root on his way. It was a beautiful day, because apparently Anakin was allowed some small favors by the universe, and would be a lovely setting to deliver the impression he’d truly wanted to.

“Oh, hi, Anakin!” Padmé was one of the few people in this school whose empathy and kindness seemed genuine. It was a tenderness he was unsure he deserved to be on the receiving end of, but welcomed it nonetheless.

“I know you’re studying, so I won’t keep you long,” He sat down on the picnic blanket without waiting for an invitation to join her. If he stopped or paused, he might lose his nerve and if there was anything this fleeting year taught him, it was that there was no glory without guts.

“Okay, what’s up?” She asked him warily, setting aside her History of Magic textbook and crossing her hands on her lap to give him her full attention.

With her staring so openly at him, he nearly got lost in the way the sun made her eyes look golden in their warmth depth. However, the very last thing he wanted was for her to think he was a creep, so he continued onwards with the last remaining gumption he had left.

“I made something for you,” He blurted out, hating that it didn’t sound as impressive out loud as it had in his head when he internally rehearsed this speech. Even without decorum, he dug in the pocket of his robe and pulled out the trinket he’d made from the mockups that Hondo sold as merchandise. It had a completely different paint job. It was tan and carved with a little square and squiggly lines at the center.

“Oh!” She clearly didn’t know what it was meant to signify, so Anakin had no problem filling her in.

“I saw it in a book when studying ancient runes with Obi-Wan, from a japor snippet,” Off her curious look, he shrugged, “It’s meant to give good fortune to the beloved of the maker.”

“To the beloved of- oh.” Her eyes bugged when she hastily met his gaze and dropped the little necklace in her lap. “You mean you… Like me?”

“Well… Yeah.” He said awkwardly, realizing this was not as romantic as he’d drawn it up to be in his head. Embarrassment was quickly coloring his features and he hoped it would play as sunburn.

Anakin felt like his breath stopped somewhere in his chest. She definitely didn’t look like she was about to go running into his arms and dance with him in the sunlight. He shied his gaze away, trying to figure out a way to play this off as a joke when she suddenly took his hand.

“Anakin, this is very sweet,” She said, “I just- I don’t, I’m not really in that kind of place right now.”

His blond fringe hung in his eyes, which was fortunate for him as he didn’t want to appear too depressed or forlorn. It was another blow to take, but a risk he understood. At least he knew.

“And honestly, I don’t feel like I really know you,” She admitted.

He looked up at her and frowned, “What do you mean? I feel like I know you.”

“I think…” She paused, gnawing on her bottom lip to find the words she wanted to say, “I think you might have conjured an idea of me in your head.”

“And that’s different?” He asked.

“Yeah, I mean, we don’t really talk that often.”

“That’s because I’m always too nervous to talk to you.” He answered.

“Why do I find it hard to believe that you get nervous?” She tilted her head to the side, flashing a smile that still warmed him up from the inside, “In any case, you’ve nothing to be nervous of.”

“Yeah, I guess the worst case scenario already just happened,” He leaned back on his legs, kneeling now in front of her with remnants of disappointment still tainting this day. He didn’t know why he would believe that someone as magnificent as Padmé Amidala would ever be interested in a scrub like him. The crushing weight of this rejection felt a bit like a wound being reopened before she squeezed his hand.

“I’d really like it if we could be friends.” She offered lightly, “I’m always in the market for more true friends.”

“If you’re just saying that because you feel sorry for me…” He trailed off, because he really didn’t want to be anyone’s charity case.

“Why would I lie?” She asked, “Anakin, you seem like an incredibly caring person and like a lot of fun, frankly. It would be my pleasure to get to know you and to be your friend… Just as long as you understand that that’s all I want to be.”

He thought about that and considered, not for the first time, that having more good people in his life to some capacity was better than less. He could trust Padmé and while she believed he didn’t really know her, he intended on getting to know the real her.

Then, he briefly thought back to something said to them earlier this year. “I just hope Miraj wasn’t right when she said misfortune will follow you for befriending me.”

She squeezed his hand again and his heart felt a little lighter, “I don’t let anyone tell me who I can and can’t be friends with. Friendship doesn’t come with terms and conditions.”

Anakin smiled at her, “Well, in that case, I ask that you still keep the necklace. We’ll call it… a friendship necklace.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, “There might be another lucky girl out there that you could give it to.”

“Nah,” He waved her off, “There isn’t. I’d rather it go… To a friend.”

***

“Poisonous plant that kills animal cells?” Satine was blocking her notes quite strategically from both Obi-Wan and Cody even if Cody was not participating in their little game. In his opinion, studying should not be done at the dinner table or really at any sort of event outside of maybe an hour or two in the library.

“Bloodroot,” Obi-Wan answered quickly, not even a moment's hesitation. He then looked down to his own notes without even waiting for confirmation, “What do the four golden statues in the MACUSA represent?”

“The victims of the Salem witch trials,” Satine frowned, “And may I just add how absolutely horrific that was,” She turned back to her notes, “How would one go about resisting the imperius curse-” She looked unsettled as she looked up at Obi-Wan, “What have you all been doing in DADA?”

“Utilizing strong mental fortitude,” He answered the first question before shrugging, “I may need it someday. Professor Fisto said those that can make the best aurors.”

The expression on Satine’s face was enough for Cody to cut in before they could start arguing, “Do you really need to be studying right now? It pays to take breaks you know,” The two looked at each other.

“I’m not tired, are you?” Obi-Wan asked and Satine shook her head, “Alright, how many known wand core components are there?”

“Three,” Cody answered dully, poking at his mashed potatoes.

“Nineteen!” Satine answered.

“Really?” Cody grimaced, “Glad I’m not in that class.”

“We could switch to something else if you’d like,” Satine offered and Obi-Wan nodded, “Charms?”

“Please no!” Cody shook his head quickly, “You might not be tired, but I’m tired just watching you go back and forth.”

“Suit yourself,” Obi-Wan shrugged, “We’re almost out for the summer anyways, you won’t have to think about classes for a whole two months.”

“Yeah, except every time I get an owl from you lot,” He rolled his eyes, “Last year, you sent me more book summaries than you did events from your real life, Kenobi.”

“The books were the interesting part!”

“Anyways,” Satine finally took a bite of her, surely cold, chips, “We’ve had a rather chaotic year. It serves to be prepared.”

“They should just cancel the lot of them if you ask me,” Cody said with a shrug, “We hardly had any real classes for half the year.”

“Oh stop! It hasn’t been that bad-”

Headmaster Yoda tapped the side of his glass, and a hush rolled across the Great Hall. He was slow to rise, but stood on his chair as to best see across the room at all the students.

“An announcement, I have to make,” He nodded, “Uncertain, our year has been. Unprecedented. The remaining professors and I, come to a conclusion, we have. NEWT exams and OWLs will be pushed back until the end of July.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from those students who had certainly been stressing it. Cody had to admit, had he been taking his NEWTs this year, he was almost sure he’d be in a full-fledged panic over it. Chatter rose in the Great Hall again and Yoda tapped on his glass once more. He wasn’t done yet.

“For the rest of you,” Anticipation hung in the air like electricity as they all turned as one to face the Headmaster, “Decided we have, to cancel your finals.” He barely got the words out before the whole hall broke into loud cheering.

Cogs in his brain turned quickly as he realized the universe had heard his pleas for once. He quickly shouted, “And I want onto a professional Quidditch team!” He turned to express his delight to his two best friends before glancing over to looks of utter horror and despair.

“But- I-” Satine was at a loss for words and Obi-Wan looked like he was still processing the information.

“Oh, cheer up!” Cody grinned, “This is a good thing.”

“I hardly think so,” Obi-Wan sounded quite like he’d been informed of his own expulsion, “How will we test our knowledge now?”

“You were doing pretty well on your own,” Cody rolled his eyes.

“Yes… We could just make our own tests,” Satine turned to him excitedly. Obi-Wan perked up at the thought.

“It’s certainly not against the rules,” He immediately scrambled for a quill, “We’d have to grade them together though-”

“Of course, I don’t want you doing it wrong!” Satine pulled out her own quill, pulling his parchment closer to her.

“You two are absolutely insufferable, you know that?” Cody crossed his arms, stewing, “Something good finally comes our way and you want to make it harder for yourselves.”

“Cody, would you like us to make you one too?” Obi-Wan asked, clearly not having heard him.

Cody stared at him long and hard, “Hell no! Leave me out of your insanity!”

***

Much to Ventress’ disdain, Headmaster Yoda’s list of announcements didn’t stop at the cancellation of finals, no matter how welcome that was. Once the outburst of mass celebration simmered down, the smiling little green Headmaster patiently began yet again.

“Finished, I am not. Announce the winner of the house cup, I will.” He said and Ventress felt her stomach turn inside out. All eyes at Slytherin’s table turned to her in immediate appraisal. They’d already won the Quidditch cup, but it was obvious they were concerned that her transgressions this year could result in slating them. She didn’t care about the competition, as there was no true value to winning. However, some under Slytherin’s banner took beating Gryffindor very seriously.

A pregnant pause filled the entire Great Hall as everyone held their breaths for the reveal. Ventress kept her eyes focused hard on Yoda and it seemed he caught her gaze. He remained tepid and relaxed, but never breaking contact as he spoke,

“Won, Slytherin house has,” He said and backed away as the entire Great Hall flew into even greater hysterics than before. The other three houses were understandably outraged while Slytherin was practically crawling on the table to celebrate their win. Ventress, a bit dumbfounded, did not join them in their hurrah.

“What, so they try to kill us all semester and they get rewarded for it?” Shouted one student that Ventress couldn’t see through the chaos.

“They’re monsters! Maul was one of them!” Yelled another.

“We lost how many points for Krell last year?” A Gryffindor, obviously, jumped in.

Her Slytherin counterparts didn’t resist chiming in, of course, since they were not the sort to be made victims of, “Hey! Maybe if you kept your head focused on your books instead of every little trollup’s arse, you might get somewhere!”

“That is enough! Take a seat, all of you!” Professor Windu boomed over the rest of the crowd. If he was good for something, it was projecting his voice even without an amplification charm. “First of all, Gryffindor House, you lost zero points for Krell’s actions last year, because as with this situation, it was agreed that his abhorrent actions were an anomaly and completely unfair to take the rest of you down.”

“Second,” Yoda continued for him, “Hard work, Slytherin has shown. The actions of one, they will not be crucified for.”

Once again, Ventress felt the burning stares of her peers. She was shunned by Dooku, who promised to reunite her with the Nightsisters of Dathomir, who would understand her, embrace her skills and her flaws as they were. They would be a true family, not the imposters that supposedly raised her under the affluent guise of success. Even these wannabes were rejecting her, save for those whose parents likely threatened them.

She clutched her fist. They didn’t deserve to win the house cup. None of them did. There should have been no rewards for any of their actions. Two professors were dead and a stack of aurors before them and here they were deliberating over a trivial contest. It was foolish and exactly why the Sith would easily be able to dominate them all. They could cast their disappointment at her all they wanted, but it was all just a distraction. It would be easy, in the end, and the commoners would clutch their pearls and act like it hadn’t been in front of their faces all along.

She’d told them what she knew not only to hopefully scorn Dooku, even if that would be an added bonus, but because it seemed they needed it spoon fed to them in order to begin tracking him down. She didn’t want to give Dooku or his master the satisfaction of seeing their future through. She never had any real loyalties to it, just what it could do for her.

Instead, she’d need to play the role of the dutiful pureblood witch and utilize whatever funds and resources to bring about real change: to bring back the sinister sisters of her bloodline, to take back everything and destroy the muggles that stood in their way. It would be better than the dogmatic Sith.

It would be revolution.

“So, if I hear any of you claiming that it was unjust, I’d like you to ask yourself, what more could you have done to better advance your house?” Windu said.

Quiet murmurs spread across the room and she still knew they were all indirectly about her. Someone pointed out that Obi-Wan Kenobi took out an entire Sith lord on his own, but another mentioned something about how he rejected any rewards for it.

Faro scowled from across the table at that, “Such a fool. Does he believe he’ll get anywhere in life with that sacrificing attitude?”

“I’d expect he doesn’t need to, with mommy and daddy’s money just waiting for him,” Miraj Scintel said coolly, “He’s not too bad on the eyes, too, which helps.”

She cast her eyes towards Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was chatting amongst some of his quidditch friends. She grimaced at his natural charisma that everyone seemed to fall for. It was sickening, really, that he could blend so well amongst everyone, even the muggle borns. That he wanted to. She didn’t get the appeal to his relentlessly charitable way of being. It was like he asked to be magnificently cursed.

It would be like swallowing a thick and heavy dose of the foulest medicines, but Ventress knew what she needed to do in order to accomplish her greatest desires. Next year was their final year at this putrid school, and she would do what she must to climb the ranks. He wouldn’t break easy from his band of misfits, but he would break. And really, Ventress would have very little to do with it. The way of the pureblood culture would be more than enough. Time was ticking and Ventress knew she had much to do.

She began scrawling in her notebook the terms of an unbreakable vow.

***

Now that finals had been cancelled the library was practically vacant, most students were spending their precious few hours left at school in the courtyard, on brooms or chatting by the lake. Obi-Wan could never think of anywhere else he’d rather be in his spare time than in the library and it was clear that Satine thought the same, taking up her usual spot beside him.

She was engrossed in her book, something on hidden secret wizarding communities across the globe. He hadn’t gotten around to reading that one yet, although he was sure he’d been to plenty of the places listed. He was sure she’d quite like Appleby if she ever got the chance to go. She turned a page and it seemed like enough to jar her from her focus and instead place her eyes on him.

“What?” Obi-Wan winced, he hadn’t realized he’d been staring, how rude.

“Oh nothing I was just-” He floundered for something to say, “Appreciating that we had time off.”

“It’s pretty nice,” She smiled, letting her book flutter closed and almost seemed to lean a little closer to him as she rested her arm on the table, “I do still have that evening patrol tonight.”

“You could trade for mine tomorrow morning,” He chuckled at the way her lips curled back into a snarl.

“Not on your life,” She huffed, “Perhaps, I’ll have fewer next year. Considering we’ll have the most seniority.”

“I’m sure as Head Girl you’ll have your pick of the litter,” Obi-Wan said without thinking and she looked at him a little surprised.

“I don’t think anything has been decided yet,” She answered coolly.

“They’d be a fool not to pick you,” Obi-Wan waved a hand at her, “Certainly there’s no competition, you’re the brightest witch of your age.”

“Well, I’d hardly say there’s no competition,” She smothered a smile, “But it would be a high honor to receive.”

“I was expected to get prefect,” Obi-Wan mused, “I didn’t realize how much I’d enjoy the position. I’m already honored just to have been considered for the role of Head Boy.”

Satine gazed at him for a beat, “Why do you talk like you’ve already lost out?”

“Well we don’t know-”

“-Don’t we?” Satine scoffed, drumming her fingers on the table in irritation, “If you think I have no competition, you’ve already won.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “There’s always Bail-”

“-Ben please,” Satine rolled her eyes, “Bail’s incredibly smart and a good prefect, but even he, himself, knows that he’s not getting the position,” Satine continued before he could open his mouth, “Ben you’re the top student at the school-”

“Second,” He corrected automatically, “You beat me by half a point-”

“I haven’t forgotten!” She jabbed a finger at him, “I wasn’t counting me.”

“Well you should,” He grumbled, “You’re the brightest witch here.”

They looked at each other for a second, neither knowing how to break away, “That means I’m always right,” Satine pointed out, turning towards her book, face a little red. Obi-Wan looked away and found interest in reading the titles on the shelf across from him, “You’ll be Head Boy for sure.”

“Then you’ll be Head Girl,” He shot back without glancing over. They hung in an almost oppressive silence for another minute or two before Obi-Wan hesitantly glanced over. Unfortunately for him, she’d been looking his way and they were once again stuck, eyes locked together.

It was almost as if words were traveling unspoken, questions, maybe answers. It was enough for Obi-Wan to take a shaky breath and try to ask one of his own out loud. The one he’d been trying to get out for a while now.

“Satine-”

“There you are!” Anakin’s voice was quick to shatter whatever spell had come between them and Obi-Wan felt his face heat up and his heart race as he turned towards Anakin with a hint of irritation.

“What?” He groused and Anakin looked between him and Satine with a tilt to his head.

“I was just going to ask you to check over my essay...” Anakin faltered, “I can come back-”

“No, no. It’s fine,” Obi-Wan let out a long breath, “You only startled me. This is a library you know.”

“I know! You never spend any time outside of it...” Anakin complained under his breath, handing over his essay.

Obi-Wan took it and used it to hide his face as he glanced towards Satine. She’d gone back to her reading, but looked unfazed. She flipped a page and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Whatcha looking at?” Anakin whispered in his ear and he glared at Anakin.

“Your poorly written essay,” He answered, rolling up said parchment to bap him in the head with it.

“Aw come on I tried extra hard this time!” Anakin sighed, draping himself across the table.

“You really need to reel in your tangents,” Obi-Wan pulled the red pen Anakin had given to him the previous year and scratched through a whole paragraph before handing it back, “Professor Yaddle doesn’t want to know how this relates to your favorite shows.”

Anakin spent a moment looking over his essay before pulling out a blank sheet of parchment and began to revise. Obi-Wan looked between Anakin and Satine and frowned. So much for a quiet moment or any sort of real talk.

“Perhaps, I’ll see you back in the common room then?” Satine placed a bookmark in her book and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“I suppose so-”

“Padmé?” Satine was looking over his head and so he turned to indeed see Padmé Amidala edge her way out from behind a bookshelf.

“Ah hello,” She greeted, “I was hoping you could look over my potions essay, Satine? If it’s not too much trouble.”

Satine sat back down and gestured to the seat across from her, “Alright, hand it over,” She leaned closer to Ben and whispered quietly, “Never a dull moment.”

“Never,” He grinned over at her.

***

“You summoned me, Headmaster?” Obi-Wan creaked open the door to Yoda’s office and was immediately comforted by the reminder that it was Yoda’s office yet again, no matter what qualms certain sectors of the Ministry of Magic had. It had been a unanimous vote, one even cast by Palpatine, to reinstate him and he was glad he had. It was nothing personal to Professor Palpatine, but his parties catering towards his favorite students didn’t exactly speak for a strong lack of bias.

“Indeed, in you come!” Yoda gestured for Obi-Wan to take a seat and he followed suit. “Important things, we have to discuss.”

Obi-Wan winced. He really didn’t want to relay what happened on the viaduct with Maul yet again to another person. He really didn’t understand why Windu couldn’t have just passed on what he received first hand immediately afterwards. There had been a lot of heavy sobbing and sniffling to get around, but he knew he told him everything in a flush of emotions uncharacteristic to him. That moment was foggy, likely at his mind’s own choice to further spare him from sadness, but he remembered being grateful that no one else was around.

Alternatively, the debate over who was to be the next Head Boy and Head Girl was buzzing louder than ever with just a few days left in the term. Traditionally, this announcement was made over the summer in the form of a personal letter that students usually hung over their mantles in pride. However, maybe they wanted to deliver some more good news in light of recent events.

Then again, Satine would probably be here too if that’s what they were discussing. Or at least, he really hoped she would.

“What is it, Headmaster?” He felt compelled to ask, because they sat in silence for a long time, neither looking relaxed that this troubling year was coming to a close. With Dooku still running free, it was very likely that a precedent was starting.

“Worried, for young Skywalker, you are,” He said calmly. It was not a question, but Yoda was never known for dancing around his point for very long. No, the lengthy and often riddled speeches were a trait of a professor who would no longer be bursting into this office without announcement nor would they live to relay another prophetic theory ever again. The weight of that absence sat between Obi-Wan and Yoda, though neither acknowledged it formally.

“Very much so,” He confirmed and tapped his fingers aimlessly on his knees, “I- Well, I made a promise to look after him.”

“To whom?” Yoda raised a brow on his wrinkly face, “Skywalker or your former mentor, did you promise?”

Qui-Gon always said that Anakin was the top priority and though he’d always known it, that really sunk in now that the boy had no one left but Obi-Wan.

“Both.” He said after a deep breath, “So, if you’ve brought me here to tell me that you’re just going to throw Anakin in some orphanage when Dooku is surely out there waiting for him to be vulnerable, I cannot allow that.”

“Sound like Qui-Gon, you do,” Yoda said, amused, but Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he knew how much that meant to him just then, “Cast Skywalker aside, we cannot.”

Obi-Wan relaxed his shoulders immediately. He hadn’t been sure what his course of action was going to be to follow up his assertion, but he was glad he didn’t have to come up with anything just then. He was just glad that Anakin wasn’t going to be left with strangers. It was incredibly cruel considering everything he’d been through.

He didn’t breathe completely easily yet, “But you’re also not going to lock him up in the castle all summer either, right? He needs normalcy.”

And a break from this place. They all did, as much as he preferred his years at Hogwarts to his summers at home. Obi-Wan knew he would be eager to return back in the fall, yearning for the bright memories this special place held for him. However, as it was at the moment, he could only feel the lingering sense of loss.

“Agree, I do, but find new normal for him, we must.”

“Until his mother is found.” Obi-Wan agreed.

“That might-” Yoda caught himself off as he regarded Obi-Wan with sad eyes and without the desire to complete the thought he started. Obi-Wan knew what he’d been thinking. It had been on his mind too whenever Anakin brought it up, even since it first happened. He also never said what came to mind.

Yoda shook his head and started again, “Yes, and find an alternative, we have. Or more accurately, found us, the alternative has.”

“That’s great.” Obi-Wan said, “A family is taking him in then.”

“Appear so, it would.”

“Well, that’s fantastic! And Anakin is on board?” There was something still odd about this meeting, a wariness to Yoda’s gaze that wasn’t quite meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes anymore. His body language was turned away, like he knew he was delivering bad news.

He nodded, long pointed ears wiggling a bit as he did, “Inform you first, I thought I should. Object to the arrangement, you can, but very few options, we have.”

“Inform me?” Obi-Wan repeated, “Headmaster, I’m not sure I have the faintest idea what you could be talking about. Who are they?”

***

“Anakin, darling, there you are!” Mrs. Kenobi came shuffling over hurriedly, or as much as she could with the trail of midnight green satin slithering behind her in long tresses. Mr. Kenobi took long strides behind her, leading with his infamous walking stick that always captured Anakin’s attention.

Anakin was indeed surprised when he was given the information that the Kenobi’s wanted to take him in for the summers and holidays and relieved that he would at least get to stick with Obi-Wan, but he certainly hadn’t expected they’d show up at the castle’s doorsteps.

Obi-Wan, it appeared, was also absolutely flabbergasted as he dropped whatever bags he’d been helping Satine with clean on the cobblestone walkway, much to his friend’s initial chagrin and gradual understanding as she rounded the bend.

“What the hell, Be- Oh.” Satine snapped her mouth shut and just focused on picking up her scattered things with Padmé and Breha at either side of her. None of the three girls dared to lift their heads.

“Mother, Father, you’re here… At Hogwarts.” His voice was tight and clipped while his eyes didn’t blink.

“We do need to work on your hosting mannerisms.” His mother didn’t look once at him and kept her eyes on Anakin, “Ah well, I suppose there will be plenty of room for practice this summer with our brand new house guest.”

“Thank you for taking me in.” Anakin said earnestly, because even while belonging on another plane of elitist culture, they still volunteered to take Anakin in the moment they’d heard he was without a place to stay.

“It is no trouble at all, my boy,” Mr. Kenobi ruffled his hair, “The servants have already taken the liberty of clearing out Obi-Wan’s room for you.”

“My room?” Obi-Wan questioned.

“Oh, no I can’t do that. I can just sleep on the couch or something-” But Anakin was instantly cut off by Mrs. Kenobi’s thin, but noticeably strong arms crushing him into a hug against her bony sternum.

“Nonsense!” She hissed, “His room is much warmer than the spares and only the best for growing heroes.”

Anakin wanted to turn around and shrug at Obi-Wan. He hoped he didn’t mind giving up his room for him. He knew he would be pretty upset if some little kid came into his childhood room and took over all of his stuff and space.

“And since we have raised Obi-Wan correctly, he will do the just and honorable thing and give his room for you in your time of need,” Mr. Kenobi’s voice was lethal, but Anakin still only had a view of Mrs. Kenobi’s laced neckline, so he didn’t see the look that matched it over Mrs. Kenobi’s shoulder.

After a pause, Obi-Wan cleared his throat, “Yes, well, I have been eyeing up the west wing.”

“Mmm, I think not.” Mr. Kenobi waved a large hand at him dismissively, “I’m refurbishing it as a second office.”

“The east wing, then.” Obi-Wan tried.

“The basement will do, you’ll have much more space down there to practice Quidditch.”

After a long pause, Obi-Wan only nodded and was giving Anakin a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, “Sounds good.”

“Clearly, it’s needed,” Mrs. Kenobi added and gently pet Anakin’s hair to the side. It would have reminded him of his own mother, if her fingers weren’t so long and cold, “Unlike you, my little star. Gryffindor’s team truly does not deserve your efforts.”

He didn’t have the heart to remind her that it was technically Anakin’s fault that they threw the game and Ravenclaw won. Neither team had their hearts in it that day, though, and it had definitely been a shock to all of them when the Kenobi’s showed up to watch. At least they’d been impressed enough with him to still give him a place to stay. That had to count for something.

“The new broom must have helped.” He smiled.

“You know, I think it did. That’s what happens when you have the best of what money can buy, Anakin.” Mr. Kenobi sighed at Obi-Wan, “Usually.”

“Now, now, I believe our new guest warrants a special welcoming feast of his favorite foods!” Mrs. Kenobi said, “Why don’t we get your things and you can just simply come straight home with us?”

“Is that allowed?” He looked around at Obi-Wan as well as Satine for approval. He was pretty hungry and was starting to feel a bit cautiously optimistic at the promise of any foods he wanted. After all, they were filthy rich and if they were willing to share that money with Anakin, well, he might as well make something good of this whole mess. He bet Obi-Wan’s head would explode if afforded the opportunity to try a hot pocket.

“As long as you’ve got approval from a professor or prefect-” Satine started, but was promptly cut off as though she never spoke.

“Which Obi-Wan most certainly is that.” Mrs. Kenobi tutted.

“As am I.” Satine reminded them, but once again, they simply did not hear her. Obi-Wan’s mother’s lips twitched a bit, but she retained her bright glow as she reached out for Anakin’s hand. He accepted it, deciding he would get used to how cold they were.

“Well, I suppose I’ll see you in September.” Obi-Wan began to say to Satine.

“Right,” Satine nodded a lot, like she was flustered and Anakin squinted as he looked between the two of them. He wondered for a second if they were going to hug or something, but their arms remained at their side. It was weird, he knew for a fact that Cody had wrapped Obi-Wan in a headlock earlier and called it a hug, but it was still a hug. Anakin hugged Rex earlier. He didn’t see what the big deal was.

She cleared her throat after a moment of words unsaid, “Be sure to write when you can.”

“Of course, especially if you get- well, you know.” Obi-Wan shrugged and Anakin didn’t know and the Kenobi’s both stuck their noses up in suspicion. Mr. Kenobi’s long nose was flared as he looked down at his son that began to follow them. Had Obi-Wan’s eyes not been glued to Satine’s he might have noticed when his father’s large hand stuck out to catch him in the chest, preventing him from going on.

“-Uh uh uh, you’re not dodging your responsibilities, young man!” Mr. Kenobi wagged a long white finger at him. “You can apparate now and will do so from the station when you are finished assisting with loading and unloading. We’ve recommended you for bag duty again.”

Obi-Wan was clearly trying to stop himself from groaning at the thought.

“Get some muscles on those bones.” He poked his son with his stick.

“And don’t let us hear you were caught frolicking or lollygagging in any way.” Mrs. Kenobi added coolly, flicking her blue-grey eyes to Satine for the first time, “You’re practically an adult now that you’re 17. It’s time you acted like it.”

“Yes ma’am.” Obi-Wan said and nodded at Anakin, “I’ll see you later.”

“See you.” Anakin said with a sympathetic shrug. He did wish he could come with them, but Anakin supposed it was important that Obi-Wan keep things in order on the train. He knew from someone who usually caused chaos that the prefects were necessary to have on hand and that Obi-Wan was one of the best.

Mrs. Kenobi patted his hand as they walked down the hill with Anakin’s trunk and bags floating aimlessly behind them, “Oh, Anakin, I believe this is going to be a splendid arrangement. Someone of your caliber deserves the finer things in life. It’s about time you got to experience them.”

“Do you have a pool?” He blurted out, knowing it could sound rude, but was pleased when they only laughed.

“Try several.” Mr. Kenobi grinned beneath his beard, but it looked foreign on his lips, even if Anakin didn’t know much about the man, “It will indeed be refreshing to have someone around who can appreciate our way of life.”

With several pools, Anakin would at least try.

Maybe it was selfish, when his mother was missing and lost somewhere. However, he still vowed to find her and to see that she was safe and to unite their family. He knew in his bones that she would want him to be happy. She would always be his real home.

No matter how far she was.

***

Sometimes, a plan needed to be executed to the number in order to come out successful. It all depended on who the puppeteer was, of course. A true strategist knew when to bend the wills and patterns of the fates to adhere to the plan, of course, because not every variable could be accounted for with a third eye. No, it required flexibility at its finest. Even towards the end, he truly believed he might have been over. His position as Headmaster had been one he was ready to give up… For now.

No, there was much more he could do as a teacher.

And now, he accomplished two birds with one stone in a beautiful array of damage that Sidious couldn’t have planned more perfectly himself. Maul did as he did best and caused a chaos that disbanded trust between the Ministry and the school board as well as its students. While they would always try to slap a bandage on a gutted wound, they would find their results required much more than that when Sidious was hiding in the corner, putting poison to the casualties.

Letting them fester and bleed until the only thing that remained was an infected and unrecognizable gash that spread through the body, consuming and ultimately defeating its host from the inside out. That was the only way to get to someone, after all, but Maul was a physical being and would never understand the true power of the dark side.

Sidious had to see to that for a reason.

And all he wanted to do was destroy Sidious and his hard work and the work that had yet to come. It was brilliant, he had to admit, to turn the dementors against them. It was something he’d taught him long ago, of course, with the help of the night witch. But it had been executed brilliantly.

Instead, he proved himself the worthy apprentice for one last time where Tyranus had not, in destroying the very person that Sidious had his eyes on all year. Many knew now that the battle between Qui-Gon Jinn and Maul was a battle for Anakin’s very soul, but few understood just how terribly it had been lost. It was tragic, really. If Obi-Wan had died, they all would know. So for once, Sidious was glad for the boy’s survival.

There was still the matter of the girl, who would likely be a problem for Tyranus down the line, but that was something his apprentice reaped that he would need to sow. They could only delay the inevitable for so long. As it were, the girl could still provide some use in accomplishing Palpatine’s next feat.

He honed his sights on Obi-Wan Kenobi, who stood not quite touching but very close next to that muggle-born Satine Kryze. Like a damn vision, the sunlight cast a specific ray just to glow around him, symbolically highlighting why Sidious needed to get rid of him. Next to the holocron, he ran his finger around the rim of a chalice, a cup if you will, divine and extravagant though muddled with dust and a disguising charm to hide its true origin of where it had been won.

As it were, there was a fairly believable way of elimination arriving in his lap. Yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi would need to be removed from the story as he was in many ways, the final obstacle in his way.

“But first…” He drifted his yellow eyes across the room until he landed on the chest near the desk. He ran ghostly white fingers over the wooden finish.

He unlocked the latch and lifted the lid, drifting his eyes all the way down the hole that it hid until landing on its sole item: Shmi Skywalker, frozen in carbonite.

“What to do with you?”

#anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #obitine #the clone wars #tcw #star wars #hpau #magical forces au

[lifblogs]

Whumpay 2021: Day 30 - Breaking Voice / Stoicism

Hide the Pain

read on ao3 1744 words star wars, the clone wars, post-zygerria arc, anakin skywalker, angst, ptsd, implied/referenced rape/non-con, slavery mention, alcohol use

“And that is all that happened on Zygerria and Kadavo?” Mace Windu asked.

Anakin did his best to keep his face completely plain, stoic. When he spoke, he tried to fill his voice with respect, “Yes, Master.” Though that word: master. It was like curdled milk on his tongue, going down to fester in his belly.

Thankfully he hadn’t had to use that word around the queen, but it had been everywhere. Nothing but slavery.

“Thank you, Skywalker. You’re free to go.”

He bowed, and then left the Council chambers, feeling sick enough to collapse, or to perhaps go back in there and tell them all off for sending him, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and Rex into that mess.

It wasn’t fair! And why him? Their answer before sending him to Zygerria was that he was the one who had discovered the missing Togrutas, so he had insight on the mission. By insight they had probably also meant that he knew how the whole slave business worked.

So Anakin had tried to pretend that he was alright with playing the part of a slaver, had told himself that master was a good title for him. But really, being forced to make his Padawan dress like that, and presenting her to the slaver queen. It was one of the many heavy burdens he now carried with him.

Ahsoka had mentioned that she would be in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, meditating, trying to center herself after all they’d been through. So he decided to leave her in peace and quiet. Obi-Wan was in the Halls of Healing. Anakin decided that’s where he would go. He couldn’t go back to his cluttered room and pretend everything was fine, couldn’t go back to Padmé’s apartments or her office. She would touch him, expect him to touch her. And he wanted to. Blast, he wanted to, and yet… Queen Miraj Scintel was stuck in his head like some infection.

He couldn’t see his wife. Not yet.

Truthfully, Anakin wasn’t sure he wanted to see anyone, but he knew Obi-Wan had been tortured, so it was only right to visit him.

He was in a white tunic and pants when he entered the room he’d been given. He was surprised to see that Rex was there as well. Both looked weary, but most of their wounds were now light scars.

Anakin forced a smile onto his face, even while his blood boiled inside and his stomach churned.

Remain calm. Don’t let them see.

Obi-Wan started getting up to greet him, but Anakin waved it off.

“No, lay still. Rest.”

Rex saluted him. “General.”

Anakin saluted back. “Surprised to see you here, Rex.”

“Well, since I was so involved with the mission the Council thought I should stay close.”

“I’m glad. I hear the Halls of Healing have much better care than the military hospital.”

Rex leaned back, putting his arms behind his head. He shifted in his bed, and let out a sigh, eyes closing contentedly.

“That we can definitely agree on.”

Anakin went and patted his shoulder, and then went to Obi-Wan. He took a seat by his bed.

“How are you feeling?”

Obi-Wan grinned at him, though it was a thin, weary thing, nothing but a mask. “Seeing as I no longer feel like I got shot, whipped, and beaten, I think I’ll be fine.”

Anakin shook his head. “I’m sorry, Master. I was leading the mission, and—”

Obi-Wan held up his hand. “Stop. Don’t carry that guilt with yourself. I took risks I thought necessary, and well, I paid for them.”

“That’s not your fault either.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Obi-Wan said in a somewhat bland, noncommittal tone as he leaned back against his pillows. “How’s Ahsoka?”

“Mostly unhurt. She was treated for dehydration, but she’ll be fine. She’s meditating.”

“Good, and you?”

Anakin paused. His heart beat wildly, and for a few moments he worried that his former master could hear it. Why were they even keeping up this charade? None of them were truly fine. Anakin could sense it, could feel Obi-Wan’s shame and guilt. He was sure that if he closed his eyes and focused he would be able to see Kadavo, see glimpses and brief flashes of the tortures he had gone through.

He tried to force a smile on his face, but he felt it was more like a grimace. So then he kept his features stone cold. His insides boiled, and burned.

“I’m fine.”

“Anakin—”

“I’m fine,” he growled.

“Mm hmm.” Obi-Wan peeked around Anakin, and asked, “Captain, do you perhaps feel well enough to give us some privacy?”

Rex peeped open an eye and then got up with only a little difficulty. “I was thinking of taking a walk anyway, General.”

“Very good. Enjoy your walk.”

After Rex left, Anakin sighed, lowering his head. He didn’t want to face his former master.

“Anakin, on Zygerria… what happened to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? I sense much anguish for nothing to have happened.”

Anakin swallowed roughly, and shook his head. “Just forget it.” His voice was gruff, not at all the hard phrik ore like he’d wished to display.

“Look at me,” Obi-Wan pleaded, voice gentle. “Please, Anakin.”

“I should go,” he said, getting up and making to leave.

“I want to help you!”

“You can’t.”

Anakin left, insides like a hot furnace, like fire and lava deep within a planet’s core. Darkness festered in it, and he wanted to rip his very skin off.

He wandered, blind to where he walked, until he found himself outside Yoda’s meditation room.

Before he could knock, he heard Yoda say, “Come in.”

Anakin entered.

“Troubled, you are,” Yoda said as Anakin went to take a seat across from him. The blinds were half-open, letting in some of Coruscant’s light.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Questions, have you?”

“Why, Master?” he asked, all of the hardness he’d tried to build around him melting, liquid ore bursting forth. What he was left with was a broken voice, and tears building up in his eyes, the sensation pinching at his sinuses.

“The will of the Council, it was.”

“Yes, but why? Why send me? Why send any of us? You know my past. How could you do this to me! How could the Council—!”

Yoda held up a small green hand.

“Peace, young one.”

Anakin snarled at him, but quieted himself.

“Against this mission, I was. Hurt you it would, I feared. This pain you feel, from things you did not speak to the Council of, is it?”

Anakin nodded.

“What happened to me…” He clenched his jaw, and turned away. He couldn’t admit it. Not to anyone, not even to himself. “It shouldn’t have… I wish…”

“Know this, I do. Sorry, I am, as we all should be.”

“You think the rest of the Council is going to feel that!” Anakin shouted, getting to his feet, waving his arm about. “In the end, they agreed to send me there. Did they aim to hurt me? Is that what’s going on?”

“Young one—”

“Don’t call me that!” Anakin snarled. He knew he was young, yet he didn’t feel it. Not after all the horrors he’d been through, and not after his… his nights spent with the queen. “There is something wrong here,” he admitted. “With—with the Council, with all of it, if the leading vote was that I, a former... slave, should go on that kind of mission.”

“Insight, they thought you had.”

“Yeah, sure. Insight into all the pain and torture, and how humiliating and debasing it is! I had to expose my own Padawan to that! It—it dredged up things I wanted to forget.”

“But forget the past, we must not. Accept it, and move forward.”

“How am I supposed to accept it when it’s shoved in my face like that? When I’m forced to… When I’m…” Anakin trailed off, holding in a sob. Part of his voice came out as a whimper.

“Young Skywalker, these experiences you had, part of you they are now.”

“I don’t want them to be,” he ground out.

“For us to decide, that is not. To truly be a Jedi, accept who we are, accept the past, we must. Trust in the Force.”

Trust in the Force. Trust in the Force? Was that the only answer he was going to get? Anakin trusted in the Force, day after day, and yet hadn’t it betrayed him? Hadn’t the Jedi betrayed him?

“Forgive me, Master,” he said, bowing, needing to be alone. “I should not have troubled you.”

Despite Yoda’s admonitions, Anakin left.

Time slipped past him in agonizing moments, every noise setting him on edge, making him want to fight, freeze, or simply run and hide. He wanted to lash out at everyone, at the universe. He held it in, letting it rot in him with the blackness Miraj Scintel had put in him with her touches.

Hours later he found himself at a bar, not even sure where he was. He just knew he needed another drink.

Wobbling in his seat, he called over the bartender and ordered another shot of whatever it was he was putting in his body—spotchka, maybe. The bartender began to refuse, and Anakin just passed him more credits, hoping that would be enough to stay his worries.

A shot of blue liquid that glowed and twinkled in the dim light was passed to him, and Anakin drank it greedily. The alcohol was poison, but why not add to the poison already there? It was already going to kill him, surely.

His comlink beeped, someone wanting to speak with him. He ignored it, but a few minutes later, it went off again.

Anakin turned from the bar, and answered.

“Anakin, where are you?”

“Padmé?” he questioned, voice not wanting to come out, but it did so anyway.

“I heard you got back from your mission hours ago. Where are you? Why haven’t you visited?” Suddenly, a brawl started up in front of him, and there was cheering and yelling. “Are you—are you in a bar?” she asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes! I want to take care of you.”

“I don’t think anyone can.”

“Anakin, come home. Please. I want you to talk to me. What happened on that mission?”

“Nothing.”

“Anakin, I—”

He broke the connection, sneered at the bar fight, and went back to his drink. Yet it wasn’t enough to hide his pain.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars: the clone wars #star wars: the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker #angst #post-zygerria arc #tw: rape mention #tw: slavery mention #fanfiction #writing #my writing

[thats-not-very-roger-roger]

To The Ends of The Galaxy // Obi Wan x Reader

Summary: You have been secretly married to Obi Wan Kenobi for years, everything was going perfectly until someone reported your rather ‘affectionate’ behavior to the council.

Gif not mine

Requested by @solo-wankenobi

Warnings: There are a few she/her pronouns in here, but nothing specific to gender otherwise. I hope that’s okay! A teensy but of angst, but there’s a happy ending.

________

“Obi Wan!”

You step into Dex’s diner behind Obi Wan, pinkies entertwined as a way to stay close without anyone growing suspicious. Obi Wan and Dex have known each other since before the clone wars. Dex often refers to him as his “favorite customer” although, he could hardly be considered a customer when Dex almost always gives him a meal on the house. Every time Obi Wan took you here you could see how relaxed he would become, how he could use this as a place to escape always being ‘General Kenobi’, here he was just Obi Wan.

“Hello, Dex,” Obi Wan smiles, letting go of your finger and instead placing his hand on the small of your back. “Is our table open?”

“I knew you’d be here, so I made sure to save it for you. Go ahead and sit down, I’ll get you two the regular.”

“Thank you,” Obi Wan nods, guiding you to your normal booth and taking a seat across from you. “You know he won’t bite, (y/n).”

“I know that, I just...” you trail off, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to think of what to say.

Obi Wan grins, reaching his hand over the table to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m only teasing, I know you can get shy.”

Within minutes Dex walks over and sits two trays of food on the table. “You know, (y/n), I still remember when this idiot,” he pauses to ruffle your husbands hair, “wouldn’t stop talking about you every time he came in—“

“Dex,” Obi whines, pushing Dex’s hand away, “hush!” You can’t help but chuckle at Obi Wan’s flustered state. No matter how long the two of you have been together, he still acts like you’re his teenage crush.

“Aww, how sweet,” you gush, exaggerating your voice in a teasing manor. “I didn’t know you thought of me that much.”

Dex laughs heartily at Obi Wan’s embarrassment before giving the two of you some space, going back into the kitchen. You take a sip of your drink before reaching over to take your husbands hand, fingers intertwining as you rest your arms on the table top.

“You know, I talked a lot about you too. Back when we were padawans Master Qui Gon would tell me that if I were to break the Jedi code, I needn’t make it so obvious.”

The two of you eat holding hands, talking about anything and everything you could think of. You feel so at home with him that you almost forget about the Jedi code, and how your entire relationship is a secret. You can’t help but stare into Obi Wan’s eyes as he tells you about one of his most recent missions, his whole expression lighting up as he talks about how well it went. For a bit you forget that you’re in public, that is until you hear the quick steps of a hooded figure wearing Jedi robes leaving the diner. You don’t think much of it, only taking your hand back and continuing your conversation.

Once the sun begins to set you and Obi Wan make your way back to the temple, planning to go your separate ways then have him sneak into your quarters once everyone is asleep. However, as soon as the two of you step foot in the temple you’re greeted by an unhappy Mace Windu.

“Master Kenobi, Master (L/N), the council requests your presence at once.”

You glance at Obi Wan confused, only nodding before the two of you follow Windu into the council room. Obi Wan’s chair is empty as you walk in, obviously. You stand next to him in the center of the room waiting to see why the council had called for you.

“It has come to our attention that your interactions might hint at something more than friendly. An anonymous member of this temple spotted the pair of you acting quite fond of each other over dinner. One could say it even seemed like a date.” Windu says as he takes a seat. “Care to explain?”

You shift uncomfortably as the eyes of the council members bore into you and your husband. Obi Wan clears his throat before answering. “I assure you, Master Windu, our relationship is strictly professional.”

“Say this you do, but heard rumors we have.”

You look at Yoda in confusion. “What rumors?”

“Master (L/N), you were spotted in a diner nearby hand in hand, talking for hours. The owner of the establishment was heard saying that Master Kenobi here would speak of you all the time in the past. I trust you can see why this concerns us.”

You glance around the room, your eyes passing over Shaak Ti and Plo Koon, two of the council members you had grown close two over your years as a Jedi master. The way that they look at you, so accusingly, makes your heartbeat speed up. “With all due respect, Master Windu, we have been working side by side since we were younglings. It comes as a great comfort for me to have physical touch from those that I trust. This is why I was holding his hand. As you know, I can become shy around too many people, so the touch of a friend helps to keep me calm, though I do I see how this would look to an outsider.”

From the corner of your eye you can see Obi Wan start to play with his fingers, and you presume that he’s only nervous you will be found out. “Yes, and I did speak quite highly of Master (L/N) before we began working side by side more often. I still would, she is a wonderful Jedi. I would say I was amazed to be working beside someone so talented in the force.”

A few looks are shared between the council before Windu looks back at you both. “If not something stronger, what do you feel for each other? The two of you know attachments are strictly forbidden.”

“I see Master Kenobi as a friend. I would risk my own life to save him, yes, but I know when the outcome is worth the struggle. I am very lucky to work with a man of such talent, and I look to him for guidance and reassurance. We began going to dinner as a way to forget about the stress that goes on with news of Sith Lords returning, and great losses of clones. I care for him, but what I feel is not love. Speak to the owner or the diner, he will tell you the same.” Your answer seems to satisfy the council, as they almost seem to physically relax.

“Very well. The council accepts your statement, and we hope that this will not become an issue again. Now, get some rest. Master Kenobi, we will be having a meeting to discuss precautions that are needed in case of droid attacks.”

You both bow your heads in respect before exiting the room, your demeanor changing completely once you’re out of sight from the council. “Well, that was close. I guess we’ll have to be more careful.”

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m afraid so. Well, goodnight (y/n), I wouldn’t want to sleep past my meeting.” Obi Wan gives you a bow before turning away and going towards his quarters. His shoulders are tense, and when he looked at you his eyes were... different. They didn’t have that little sparkle when they looked at you. You watch him walk away, confused. ‘He’s probably just stressed out by almost getting caught,’ you think, ‘I guess I can’t blame him.’ With that, you turn and make your way to your own room.

You struggle to stay awake in your quarters waiting for Obi Wan to arrive. He didn’t show up at the normal time, so you had decided to give him an extra thirty minutes, assuming he had been stopped on his way over or maybe he even fell asleep. Your datapad chirps as your timer ends, and you can’t help but get nervous. ‘He’s never late, this isn’t like him. I... I need to make sure he’s okay.’

You put your cloak on top of the nightgown you had changed into, wrapping it tight so that the pajamas wouldn’t be visible to anyone who might be awake. As you make your way down the hall, you desperately try to chase out any thoughts of what might be wrong. Usually you aren’t one to worry, but when it comes to your husband all sorts of terrible ideas make their way into your head, terrifying you of what he could be going through. ‘He’s a strong Jedi, if he can face a Sith Lord and come out in one piece, nothing that could have gotten into this temple could kill him. He’s okay.’ You reassure yourself as his door comes into view.

Quickly, you make your way to it. You don’t even bother with knocking, instead softly pushing it open, as to not wake him if he had fallen asleep. Of everything you imagined you’d see when you opened that door, this was definitely not one of them. He looks to be perfectly fine, sitting on his couch staring at his feet with such intensity you know he’s completely spaced out.

“My love, what’s kept you?” You close the door behind you, walking over and taking a seat next to the man. “I waited for you, but you didn’t show.”

Obi Wan finally looks up at you, his face more red than usual. Your heart pangs as you realize he had been crying. “Oh, Obi Wan!” You gently press your hand to his cheek, concerned eyes meeting his glossy ones. “What’s wrong?”

He bites the inside of his lip as he looks away from you, taking a deep breath before he trusts himself to speak. “I... I didn’t know if you’d want me to come.”

The sadness in his tone is not missed by you, and you let out an involuntary whine, struggling to handle the sight of your strong husband so weak in front of you. You run your free hand through his hair, fingers grazing his scalp in comfort. His eyes flutter closed as he leans into the hand on his cheek, taking a shaky breath as he does. “Obi, why wouldn’t I want you to come?”

He doesn’t respond right away, chewing the inside of his cheek as he keeps his eyes closed to avoid your worried gaze. “Obi Wan, please. Let me in. I want to help you.”

“What you— what you said earlier, it sounded so real. You didn’t even struggle to say that you don’t love me. I just... I can’t help but feel you’ve gotten bored of me.” He finally opens his eyes, looking at you as a tear makes its way down his cheek.

“Oh, darling,” you pull his head to your chest, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as you move your hands to rub his back. “You know I love you. It was all just an act. I love you with my whole being. I’m so sorry I made you worry like this.”

His arms slowly come to wrap around your waist as he moves to lean on you comfortably. “We’ve been together for so long, I had myself convinced that you were done with me. That you would move on to someone else.”

You hug him tighter as he speaks, then once he’s done you make him sit up to look you in the eyes. “I want you to look at me. Can you do that for me?” He nods and you continue, “Obi Wan, I could never get bored of you. I have stayed with you this long because you mean everything to me. Without you, I would be broken. The truth is, I am hopelessly attached to you. I would do anything just to stay by your side, even if it meant leaving the Jedi Order. If it convinces you, I’ll walk right up to Master Windu and tell him just how much I love you. You say the word, and I will follow you out of this temple all the way to the ends of the galaxy.”

As you stare into his eyes you can see the usual spark start returning to them, his body relaxing as he realizes that you could never be done with him. He smiles softly and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he sighs happily. “You mean it?”

“More than anything.”

Without hesitation, Obi Wan brings his hands to hold the sides of your face, closing the distance between the two of you as he pulls you into a very emotional kiss. You kiss him back with everything you’ve got, putting every ounce of passion you can muster into it. After a few moments, he pulls away, standing up and offering you his hand.

“Stay with me tonight?”

You grin as you take his hand, stumbling into him a bit as he pulls you up. “Of course. Let’s get some sleep, you need to be up early.”

With that the two of you make your way over to his bed, him changing into pajamas as you simply remove your cloak and shoes. You lay down and wait for him to be done, opening your arms in invitation to him as he finally crawls onto the bed. He shuffles his way over to you and lets you wrap your arms around him, holding him like he would hold you most nights. But tonight, you just want to show him that you will always be there for him. Whether it means risking your life for his, or simply holding him while he lulls off to sleep.

And as he lays in your embrace he knows, you’ll be with him, even to the ends of the galaxy.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan oneshot #obi wan imagine #star wars imagine #star wars one shot #star wars x reader #request

[star-whores-a-new-hoe]

A Strange Beginning//Obi Wan X Reader

part 1: Forever series

Summary: a strange disturbance in the force leads to you meeting A particular Jedi Knight. (And yes this is an old fic I rewrote.)

Word count: 1963

warnings: angst, grammar, cheesiness like two cuss words. Hope you enjoy.

An air of unease filled the polished halls of the Jedi temple, seeping into the minds of the residents there and creating a feeling of dread. Obi Wan walked briskly towards the doors of the Jedi council room, his head filled a multitude of anxieties. His thoughts quited when his sight fell on Master Windu standing outside the room. “Your thoughts are loud Master Kenobi.” “It seems That is the case with many today.” Obi wan said, walking towards his peer. “Who all is here?” “Sadly, most of our fellow Jedi are preoccupied at the moment.” Windu said as he opened the grand door to the chambers. Obi Wan only spotted one person inside the room, Master Yoda.  

     Obi Wan walked into the large, circular room, lined with chairs and Windu followed. The late evening sun shone through the large windows onto the decorative floor, giving the whole room a warm glow. “Master Yoda.” Obi Wan greeted the ancient Jedi as he crossed the room to sit in a chair. “Is this all the Jedi we have present?” “Afraid that it is, I am.” Yoda replied. Windu took his spot next to Yoda. “The sepritist movement has us spread thin, and the senate’s demand for Jedi is only growing.” Obi Wan nodded solemnly. He was well aware of the Jedi’s present troubles. “To the point we must get.” Yoda said. “A disturbance in the force there is.” “We are all well aware, I suppose our enemy can sense this too.” Obi Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Do we have any ideas of what it could be?” Windu shook his head. “The only thing we know for sure is that it doesn’t necessarily feel... dark.” “And what precautions can we take to-“ Obi Wan was interrupted by an explosion of blue light from the center of the room. Blinded by the sudden light, Obi Wan shot up. He reached for his light saber and held the weapon in front of him, ready for anything. As the light subsided, Obi Wan noticed his fellow Jedi in similar fighting positions. The blue light faded and in the center of the floor say something the Jedi would have never expected.                                                             ***

You sat in the middle of a strange imposing room in utter shock, the strange book you had stumbled across in your hands. When your eyes feel upon the three armed figures you jumped to your feet. Panicked, you backed up to the other side of the room to distance yourself from them. You reached behind you into your backpack and grabbed your ukulele, you held it in front of you like a weapon. “Where the fuck am I?” You yelled. Yoda put away his light saber and the others followed. “Think I the disturbance this is.” “Why the fuck is that frog talking!” Obi wan lifted up his hands in a gesture of surrender as he slowly stepped towards you. “No one is going to harm you.” He said in a soothing tone. “Stay the fuck away from me! You warned. You were so overwhelmed that you didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face. “Wh-Where am I?” “You are in the Jedi temple.” You have Obi Wan a look of confusion. “How did I get here?” Obi Wan looked at Windu, not sure of what to say. “You don’t know?” You paused and then shook your head. “Well, I-I, the book.” You lifted the book up for them to see. “I was just walking home and I saw this book so I went to pick it up and-“ At that moment, everyone’s attention turned to the door where a young padawan stood, breathless. He braces himself, trying to regain his speech. “M-Masters, droid army, right at our doors.” Windu turned to you. “Stay here.” He ordered as he and the other Jedi filed out of the room. You were in too much shock to say anything. The doors closed behind them and you stood alone in the room. You slightly lowered your ukulele and walked over to the window. You looked out at the vast city in front of you, the countless strange buildings, speaders, and signs. You were overwhelmed and confused but as you looked at the sight in front of you there was only one thing you knew for sure. This is not Earth.                                                            *** The three Jedi jogged to the doors of the jedi temple to meet their attackers. “I sense she is not a local.” Obi Wan said.

“There will be time to figure out the girl later, for now let us focus on the task at hand.” Windu said as they arrived at the entrance. The scene before them was one of pure chaos. Droids and Jedi were locked in battle, Blaster beams were being fired all over the place. The three Jedi Masters unsheathed their lightsabers and charged into battle.

Back in the council room, you paced back and forth, trying to get your thoughts straight. Unfortunately, the only thing in your head was, This is insane, this is insane, this is insane!  you ran your fingers through your hair and took a deep breath. Ok, I just have to find those guys that were in here before and they will get me home, yeah, that makes sense! With your ukulele/weapon in hand, you walked out the door.

You were unprepared for how big the building was, and you were surprised by how deserted it was. cautiously, you made your way through the halls, on the lookout for anyone who looked like a threat.

Outside the temple, the fighting had died down. The others seemed to have the situation under control so Obi Wan was heading back to check on you and try to piece together this situation. 

As he walked down the hall, he thought he could make out the sounds of a struggle. Warily, he snuck over to where the commotion was hiding in the shadows as to not be seen.

A few paces in front of him, he could spot two people struggling with their backs to him. the one he could make out looked like a bounty hunter . It was obvious that the bounty hunter had the upper hand seeing as he had the second figure in a choke hole. When the two figures turned, Obi Wan was shocked and irritated to see that the second figure was you.

He left from his place in the shadows and separated the bounty hunter from you. Quickly, Obi Wan disarmed him and with a swift blow to the head knocked him unconscious. 

He turned to you, obviously not pleased that you had left the council room. “Master Windu told you to stay put.”

“Why the hell should I listen too that window guy?” You said, annoyed. “I want to know what the hell happened and you have answers!” You rubbed your neck, there was a red spot from where the bounty hunter had held you. “Why was he trying to kill me?”

Good question. Obi Wan thought to himself. “Lets get back to the council room, We have much to discus. 

Masters Windu and Yoda returned shortly from the fight. They quietly conferred with Obi Wan while you made yourself comfortable in one of the many chairs.

The sun had almost settled over the busy city when the Jedi turned their attention to you. You sat up straighter and faced the Jedi with all the grit you could muster. “Where. Am. I.”

Master Windu seated himself in the chair directly across from you, never breaking eye contact with you. “Coruscant, the city planet. Are you familiar with it?”

“Look dude,I only know of one planet with people on it and that's Earth.”

Ignoring the fact that you just referred to a Jedi Master as ‘dude’,  Obi Wan said to Windu, “I’ve never heard of Earth, I’ll check the data base for it.”

“I am Jedi Master Mace Windu,” He said. “These are Masters Kenobi and Yoda.” He gestured to them respectively.

“Y/N.” You turned to Yoda. “Sorry I- Um, called you a frog.”

Windu sat forward in his seat. “Walk us through what happened before you got here.”

You sighed. “Ok, I was walking home from work, Hence my uke, and I saw this book,” You motioned to the mysterious book which lay forgotten in one of the chairs. “It was just laying there and one one was around so I went to pick it up. And now I’m here in this... Space place.” You slumped in your seat defeated. “How do I get home?”

The Jedi exchanged looks, silently asking each other, How do we tell her?

Over the next hour, they explained to you that they didn't understand how you got here or how to get you back. They told you of the disturbance in the force you had caused, the Jedi and separatists and how the droid army was most likely a distraction for the bounty hunter to get you.

“So that's why the guy tried to kill me?”

“Not kill, most likely capture.” Windu said. “We have the bounty Hunter apprehend but i doubt we will get much out of him.” He paused. “ I also doubt that this will be the last attack on you, The sith in the separatists must have sensed your presence as well.”

You looked out the window into the now night sky. “how long will this take to figure out?”

“We truly have no way of knowing.”

You frowned and nodded. “I-I just have so many questions, Where will I stay, Can I even eat the food here, Is there even oxygen here?”

Windu lifted a hand to signal you to stop rambling. “We will answer all that in good time. For now, Master Obi Wan has notified me that Senator Amadala’s apartment is not in use.” He stood up. “We will keep you there for now and send a medical droid in the morning to examine you.”  You watched Windu walk over and pick up the book. Nothing happened. 

“What about those Sith guys? You said yourself that there will be more attacks.”

Windu turned to Obi Wan. “Master Obi Wan, You will be assigned to protect y/n whilst we handle this. Please escort her to the apartment, I’ll meet you there shortly.” You watched Obi Wan nod at Windu before turning to you and giving you a reassuring smile.

“Come with me please.”

                                                          ***

Obi Wan showed you into the beautiful deep blue apartment, much nicer than any place you had ever stayed at on Earth. You gazed out the large windows at the busy airways. Flyings in the speeder over here had been quite the experience.

Obi Wan motioned to the hall way. “The bedroom is over there, you will find all the necessities and a change of clothes.”

“I-I’m probably gonna just sleep in this.” You said referring to the clothes you were wearing. You were in such a weird place emotionally and physically, the last thing you wanted to do was put on some space clothes. That would be too real.

“We have surveillance setup and I will be here to make sure everything is all right.”

“Great.” You said making your way towards the bedroom. Nothing like being watched by a space wizard all night. Before you made your way into the room you turned to look at Obi Wan. Your eyes locked with his beautiful blue ones, which gave you a strange sense of calm.” I know I seem really ungrateful but truly, thank you.” He smiled and nodded at you.

As soon as the doors closed behind you, you fell onto the bed and hugged the pillow. you could hear another person enter the room and begin taking to Obi Wan. You recognized the voice as Windu’s.

“I checked the data base Master Windu, there is no known planet called Earth.” He paused before continuing. “Where do you think she came from?”

The conversation halted for a moment before Windu said, “I think she is from somewhere far far away.”

You closed your eyes tightly. Maybe if I just wish hard enough I’ll wake up. You opened your eyes and felt tears well up in them. You were still in the dark bedroom on a strange planet.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan fanfiction #x reader #obi wan x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction

[thebestworstidea]

Make A Wish

(Part One: Falling Star) (Part Two: Crash and Burn)

On Ao3

After almost a year I manage to finish the Third Part in this Series. Each part getting longer and longer. This part clocks in at 11,000 words and change. So much for a short one shot, am I right?

Warning for naughty language, mostly care of Remus.

-----

Logan had insisted that Thomas stop the camera. He tried to insist that Thomas eat something and lie down in bed, despite his normal cautions about not eating before bed time. For a prolonged foray into the mindscape, it would be better for Thomas if his body was comfortable, and that meant being in a safe environment and not hungry. They had managed to compromise with Thomas laying on the couch, slowly eating Doritos. Then they had all settled deeper into the mindscape, discarding the fourth wall, and allowing Patton to put Thomas’s head in his lap and pet his hair. It appeared to be soothing for Patton as much as Thomas.

“I mean, they’re friends now.” Thomas pointed out. “Can Virge just snap Roman out of it on his own?” 

“If it was a normal fantasy, it would be probable.” Logan answered. He went on, but Thomas’s attention drifted. 

Janus was still standing on the landing, with his arms crossed over his chest, holding his elbows, and occasionally squeezing, staring into the distance. Thomas wasn’t sure he was blinking. The Sides always got a little further into uncanny valley the further he retreated into his own head, and more than just the stretchy-arm. Sometimes Thomas forgot they were technically imaginary, and not just very weird roommates, but times like this reminded him. Logan kept glancing back at him, still in his ‘traditional’ place next to the stairs. Unless they asked him a direct question, Remus was pacing from the window to the foot of the stairs and back, mumbling to himself under his breath, and gesturing expansively. Frankly that was more disturbing than Janus’s lack of blinking, though in a different way.  Thomas realized that Logan had stopped talking, and looked back at him. Logan sighed, deeply and punched the bridge of his nose. 

“What was the last thing you heard, Thomas?” 

“Uh… depth and immersion.” he said after a moment. He did not deserve Logan’s patience. “Which is different from the thing with your rooms.”

“Close but no, it’s not entirely different, just different enough. Thomas, I really cannot advise going forward with this idea.” 

“But… What if instead of pulling Roman out, Roman pulls Virgil in? What if they both get lost in the Imagination, and don’t ever come out again?”

“... I think your anxiety is demonstrably unaffected.”

“I’m serious, Logan.”

“That’s my job.” Logan tipped his head, and Thomas smiled a little, reassured by the faint smile in Logan’s eyes as his joke worked properly. 

“I’ve already left Roman alone too long, Logan.” Thomas said firmly. “If I can’t call him here, then I have to go to him.” He frowned. “It’s like going to the mind palace, right? I can figure it out without you if I have to-”

“Do not!” Janus startled in place, then smoothed himself down. “I mean, if you really want to be overdramatic, but I don’t think any of us suggested that you’d have to go to those lengths.” He looked over at Logan, who looked back at him.

“Kiddo, we want Roman back as much as you do.” Patton said soothingly. “So of course we’re going to go with you, we’re just trying to make a plan.” 

“I don’t know why.” Remus mumbled, “No plan survives first contact with the enemy.” 

“That quote means you need to be flexible, not that you shouldn’t plan, darling.” Janus sighed. 

“Eh both works.” Remus stretched backwards, and kept going, until he was peering out between his feet, a terrifying combination of a rag doll and a circus contortionist.  “Now, I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is yes, I can in fact suck my own-”

“I wasn’t!” Thomas interrupted, despite the fact that the thought had totally crossed his mind. Janus shook his head slightly, the faintest of smile on his face. Remus remained in pretzel mode, looking comfortable enough. “I’ve eaten something, and I’ve thought about it, and yes. I want to go to the imagination. I want to find Roman. I need to talk to him.”  He took a deep breath. “How do I do this?” 

Remus rolled across the floor and collided with Logan, knocking him over. They were a tangle of limbs for an oddly prolonged moment, and then Remus was  bodily hauling him up and dusting him off with a bit too much enthusiasm.  Logan kept trying to swat his hands away and missing. 

“If Remus is finished for the moment.” Logan said at last. “Getting into the imagination is fairly easy, especially with Creativity present.” 

Remus grinned and opened the door under the stairs. 

“This way.”

“A cupboard under the stairs?!” Thomas exclaimed.

“It varies from day to day.” Remus stepped in, and they moved to follow. Strangely there was room, as they stepped into a dusty, unused room that contained nothing but a large wardrobe on the far wall. Remus strode towards it confidently. “This is Roman trying to keep us out, by the way.” This time he let them all go first, pressing from behind to push them further, deeper into the wardrobe. 

“Hey, I thought we weren’t going to lie about ourselves any more.” Patton commented, shoving past a coat. 

“What?”

“I sure don’t want to go back into the closet.” he responded. Thomas couldn’t see who groaned, but he was pretty sure he was one of them. They came out into a wintery forest. This time Janus pressed forward, pointing at a ring of brightly colored mushrooms, the inside of the ring being full of lush green grass. 

“That’s the next one.” He said, and stepping inside had them enveloped in the warm, bright light of a sunny day. There was nothing but grass around them, golden and knee deep. At the edge of the field stood a big blue box. Logan started towards it immediately and caressed the sign on the door for a moment, before opening it and stepping into the darkness inside. It took Thomas a moment to force himself to step into blackness that he couldn’t see anything in, but he did.

He found himself falling, weightless for a long moment, the fall too gentle to really scare him, a faint blueish light catching his attention and then- his feet were settled on a brilliantly colored floor. His sides were ranged out in a semi circle around him, and the floor looked like stained glass, a giant round window, picturing what appeared to be Roman, asleep. 

“Okay, I have to ask, is this going to go on much longer?” He asked, his voice echoing a little bit. 

“Honestly, it’s never been this hard before.” Patton said, sounding a little worried. “Usually it’s just a few doors if he’s trying to keep us out.” 

“Yeah, he’s really into it.” Remus laughed, and leapt into the air, impossibly high. 

“Wait, what are you-” Before Thomas could finish the question, Remus had come down with a crash in the center of the platform,  mace first, and the window shattered into brilliant shards of light. Thomas ducked covering his head with his hands but… didn’t fall again.

Tentatively he looked up, and they were in a shallow cave. Weak light came in the entrance, as Remus stood back up, silhouetted by it. 

“Ah. Here we are.” He chuckled, and gestured grandly towards the entrance- or exit. “Welcome to the Imagination.”

Walking into the imagination made Thomas feel a little like he’d imagined Dorthy feeling when she emerged into Munchkin Land. 

It was a little too sharp and intense, like an image captured by a high definition camera. However, it was still… lacking something he’d expected. No that wasn’t it. It felt like something was wrong. 

Patton sighed beside him, and on the other side Logan made a sound of frustration. 

“Well, so much for hoping Virgil’s presence did something.” 

“Holy shit.” Remus exclaimed, more directly. “This is some desaturated Game of Thrones bullshit. Even I don’t pull this gritty palette crap.” 

And Thomas realized, yeah, that was it. He’d expected brilliant technicolor, like the Wizard of Oz, or maybe Disney Movies, but instead the rolling countryside had a faded look, like it had been shot through a filter. 

“It isn’t always like this?” he asked. 

“No, it’s only been like this recently.” Patton said sadly. “It usually gets overcast when Roman’s sad, but this is different.” It was overcast, clouds rolling across the sky. But that wouldn’t cause the world to look like this. A pathway led downhill, away from the cave, towards an overgrown gate with no fence, next to a dirt road. Thomas thought he could see a castle in the distance, but wasn’t completely sure. He headed down the path towards the gate anyway. For some reason, he felt compelled to open it and walk through to the road, instead of walking around it. Well, there was a ditch, so maybe it was better this way. His feet had barely gotten onto the road when there was an explosion of expletives from behind him. 

“Oh you have got to be fuckin’ with me.” Remus groaned from the back of the group. “He’s really got a hold of this area.”  His exclamation of disgust got everyone’s attention, and they watched as he made scrapeing motions at his clothes, which rippled and changed from white, to black, to white again. “Consent, Roman, you little shit.” Remus growled “I’m still your fuckin brother and you do not get to do it to me.” The shape and decoration of the clothing didn’t really change, though the teeth transformed from pearls as he swiped at them. It was still rufflily, sparkly, and accented in silver and green. Only the main color changed. “You son of a bitch!” he whined, and seemingly gave up for a moment. The brilliant fabric made the strip of white in his hair look brighter. Then suddenly he made a tearing gesture, which jerked the entire ensemble back to normal for several seconds. Then it blinked back to white again. “SON OF A BITCH.” he repeated.

“Now, Remus.” Patton started as Logan snorted. 

“A classical reference, fantastic.” 

“This is binary fuckin’ bullshit he’s got no right to force me into.” Remus snarled, and pushed through to the front of the group. “I’m going to hit him so hard he fuckin’ resets.” He pointed, and even the metal of his mace was a shimmery polished silver. “I’m gettin’ my evil twin label back! If there can be only one, it’s gonna be me, because at least I’m not an asshole about it!” He continued growling a critique of Roman’s creativity “couldn’t even do the subversive white-clad-villan thing, no, had to go classic black armor with gold trim, just so everyone gets the message, ‘this guy will betray you’” Remus stopped and started undoing his belt. “Fuck it, I’ll do this naked-”

“Do not!” Patton yelped. Remus looked at him crossly. “Keep that grumpy-butt in your pants, mister.” 

“You’re not the boss of me-” he started

“I am!” Thomas put in. “This is not a clothing optional area!” 

Remus looked even more put out. 

“... the worst part is you’re probably right. Don’t want my balls pixelated, that itches like hell.” 

“Are you sure?” Thomas asked. 

“Well, we can check-” 

“Noooo!” Thomas waved his hands, and Patton put his hands over his eyes. “I’m just saying if Roman’s trying to be a villain, then-”

Remus snorted and cinched his belt shut again. 

“Tommyknocker, it’d take more than a nervous breakdown for Roman’s mind to stop fading to black after kissing. This-” he gestured at the setting “is still Disney Channel. I mean, he might get as far as Adult Swim, but having shorts painted on over my cock and balls still doesn’t sound like a great time. Admit it, you’d hate being a Ken doll.” he reached down and unsubtly rubbed his crotch. “Ah. Still there.” 

“Remus.” Janus sighed. “Focus.” 

“I’m very focused.” he gave another rub, cackling as everyone found somewhere else to look. Well, except Janus who only made prolonged eye contact. 

“We’re going to kill your brother, remember? Secret mission and all that.”

“Right!” He snapped his fingers, and four horses thundered out of nowhere, hides like burnished bronze, wearing bridles that looked more like muzzles, their reins slender, clinking chains. “Watch your fingers, they don’t care that they aren’t carrots.” 

“Ponies!” Patton said gleefully. Logan looked at the animals dubiously. 

“Must we?” Logan sighed. 

“Oh we must, we must!” Remus giggled. “Off to the castle to rescue the princess or some bullshit like that.” 

“I can’t ride a horse.” Thomas said nervously. “Can you guys ride horses?” 

“Here we can.” Logan said, “Dream ‘logic’.” he said that like it was a dirty phrase.  “You should pick one of us to ride with.” 

“If you want to try on your own, I can ride with Remus.” Janus offered. “Horses lack subtlety.” He stared at them with vague distaste. 

“We can ditch a horse if you wanna get your arms around me DJ.” Remus vaulted into the saddle with an enviable show of athleticism that Thomas was absolutely sure was beyond him. “You know I don’t mind.” 

Thomas had been rapidly weighing the pros and cons of Logan verses Patton riding double. He paused in that to watch the oddly glistening figure that was Remus pull Janus up in front of him on the saddle, tucking his arms around the liar and his chin over his shoulder. 

If Roman or Virgil had been there, Thomas would have picked one of them instantly, Roman would know what he was doing, and Virgil would have been careful enough to keep him safe. He watched Patton spin in a circle as he tried to mount the horse before finally managing to do it, and went over to Logan. Logan gave him a brief overview of the basic functions of the tack and instructions on how to mount up, holding the horse still so he could before carefully climbing up in front of him. 

“Uh, any chance of a riding helmet?” Thomas asked nervously, as he wrapped his arms around Logan. 

“Nope! Just keep your arms and limbs inside the ride, Tommyboi.” Remus laughed, and turned his horse down the road, heading towards the castle.  The other horses followed without any seeming instruction.

It wasn’t long before the road narrowed and plunged into a dark forest, creepy and overgrown; but Thomas was pretty sure it was lifted directly from Snow White. That was kind of comforting, like Roman’s hand on his shoulder. Thomas hadn’t realized how much he missed talking to his Creativity. It wasn’t always a full manifestation, sometimes just a gentle mumble of a conversation in the back of his brain that a psychologist probably would have a field day with.  Of course, then there was this… tightening his grip on Logan a bit he let his mind drift back and felt the cushions of the couch beneath him. 

No matter how bad it got, he was lying on his couch with his eyes closed. He could still taste the chips. 

He opened his eyes back up to the haunted forest. Then closed them again when a spider the size of his head dropped down from a tree, and Remus 'helpfully’ smashed it like a pinata.

What filled it did not make him happy in the least. 

But at least that was the worst that came out of the trees, though he kept thinking he saw something out of the corner of his eyes, moving just out of sight in the dark of the undergrowth. 

When Roman had talked about his castle in the imagination, it had been in the middle of a bustling town, full of life and cheerful villagers, each going about the motions of life in a fairy tale. As they approached, they saw that this castle was isolated from the nearby village, perched on a cliff over the sea. It did kind of look like the kind of castle Roman would design, somewhere between Cinderella’s and The Beast’s castles, with the addition of  an imposing curtain wall that looked a great deal more realistic. The walls of the castle were still pale, with tile roofs a disturbing blood red, long banners flying from them.  It was silhouetted impressively by a setting sun that cast crimson along imposing towering thunderheads that loomed on the horizon. 

Logan started complaining about the lack of realism, and Thomas patted his stomach soothingly, where his arms were still wrapped around him. 

“I just hope we don’t have to climb up to the top of that tower.” Logan grouched.

“Don’t worry, Logan.” Thomas said. “I’ve been listening to The Adventure Zone in my down time, there’s no way Roman hasn’t installed fantasy elevators.”

“I am not completely sure that’s reassuring. It seems to me that would lack the safety measures important in elevators, and given his current mood, ‘the tower of terror’ seems a more likely inspiration for any lifts.” 

“Well, I did feel better but it’s gone now.” Thomas sighed. 

Logan coughed. 

“Well. There are many elevator-like crane apparatus that were used historically. I don’t see any reason why there might not be a perfectly safe ascension device in there.” 

“Thanks.” Thomas mumbled, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder. 

“Backslash ‘s’?” Logan asked suspiciously. 

“What?” Thomas blinked “No, I’m serious, not sarcasm. You can’t… use that in a verbal conversation, Logan.”

“Darn.” he sighed. “I was hoping for clarity. There’s not room for a lot of that in verbal communication.”

“Most people use tone.” 

“That’s hardly universal or quantifiable!” 

“Yeah.” Thomas said sympathetically, because sometimes it really was hard to tell when people were joking, even in person, even if he’d known them for years.

“How irritating.” 

“Hey, we got a roadblock ahead.” Remus called. 

Thomas looked up to see a group of villagers with, yes, pitchforks and torches, blocking the road up to the castle. 

“Great.”

“We can run them down?” Remus offered.

“No!” Patton said immediately. 

“Well not with that attitude we can’t.” Janus said mildly, leaning back against Remus lazily. 

“No!” This time it was Thomas, not Patton. “No one is running anyone down;”

“Unless absolutely necessary.” Janus added. “It would be really efficient if we did.”

“No.” Thomas repeated. “Stop it, snake boi.” 

Deceit chuckled, and Logan heaved another sigh.

“Case in point.” 

“Let’s just… see what they want?” Thomas suggested. “Logan, can we get closer?”  As they approached the road block, a figure who looked vaguely familiar, though Thomas would not have been able to remember their name at a party, stepped forward, farming implement held warily out.

“Are you here to defeat the tyrant and his dread sorcerer?”

“Oh good, Virgil’s here.” Patton said at the back of the party. 

“‘Tyrant’.” Remus snorted at the same time. 

“We are uh, in fact here to, uhm, deal with them.” Thomas said awkwardly. The crowd started talking among themselves. 

Logan sighed. “Improv, Thomas, it’s a basic acting skill you should have a handle on.” 

“Hey, my creativity’s a little messed up at the moment.” Thomas poked him in the ribs. “I’m doing my best here.”

“I have faith you can do better.” 

Thomas honestly felt a little touched. The spokesperson for the mob spoke up again. 

“We have come to the conclusion that you appear to be in a better position to do something than we are. So we are trusting you not to make this worse.” they frowned. “Some of us remember that things were not always like things are now.” 

“I can’t make promises, but we will do everything in our power to make things better. It’s not supposed to be like this.” Thomas said with a little bit more confidence. 

“If you make it to the castle before the sun goes down, then the gate will still be open.” 

Thomas looked over at Remus. 

“You know how this works, right? Can we make it?”

“Racing the sunset? Like dramatic bitches? Oh we’ll make it. But just barely.” 

“That’s just how it works.” Janus agreed. 

“I don’t like the sound of ‘racing the sunset’” Logan grumbled. “You cannot outrun light, and sunset is a measurable and regular phenomenon.”

“Oh, but there’s one thing faster than light, Lo.” Patton offered. 

“I don’t believe that anything has been found-”

“Darkness. It’s always there first.” 

“That isn’t accurate, it-”

“Well, given that, perhaps you light boys should try to keep up, huh?” Remus called. He’d skirted the crowd, which was pulling back towards the walls of the village. “Drama can only stall for so long.” He dug his heeled boots into the horse’s side and galloped away in a cloud of dust. Patton’s horse startled into movement behind it, and Patton did a credible rendition of a Whilem scream, managing to stay in the saddle. 

“I apologize for this, Thomas.” Logan said quietly, as the horse they were riding jolted first into a dash, then a run, galloping after the others. If he’d thought he could have gotten back on his own, Thomas would have fled for the real world almost immediately. He closed his eyes and clung to Logan while the wind tore at his hair like he’d stuck his head out of a moving car.

It was strange, he could almost picture the world around him, the castle looming closer and closer as the horses thundered up the road. The problem was that having his eyes closed made him want to go back to his couch- to not be in the encroaching shadow of an ominous castle. 

Thomas forced his eyes open, looking up the road at the looming form of the fairytale castle. His legs and arms hurt from holding on. Ominous red-shaded lamps framed the gate they were approaching without slowing down. If he looked closely, he could see Roman’s emblem on them. They cast enough light to bathe the area as though the sunset was shining right through the castle making the arch of the gate glow. 

“Uh Logan?” He said, looking ahead of them. “The gate’s closing!” 

“Of course it is.” Logan sighed, exasperation heavy in his voice. “Trust in Roman, Thomas. What will be the most dramatic thing?” 

Patton’s horse had pulled ahead, and dashed through the gate, with Remus and Janus hot on his heels. The gate kept closing as they galloped towards it, and Thomas’s heart was screaming as they clattered through to the courtyard, convinced that if he’d tried he could have reached out and touched the closing gates as they passed through. He did yelp as the slam of gates behind them startled the horse they were on into a rear. Logan forced it down, but Thomas could feel himself slipping. Just as the slam of the gate faded, there was a horrible metallic rattling sound, and a portcullis fell over the wooden gates like a mouth snapping shut. 

“See?” Laughed Remus “Told you. Drama. Ro’s as predictable as a little golden book.” 

The horses snorted and stamped, snapping teeth that were suspectly sharp behind the muzzle-bridles. Logan slid down, steady after only a moment and did his best to hold the horse still so Thomas could slide down. 

Thomas did, but his knees went weak and he ended up on the cobbled surface of the courtyard. 

“Careful there, Lo-ne braincell.” Remus called. “Don’t want his brains bashed out on the rocks. It’s not like intestines, it’s all attached, can’t re-coil it.” 

“I have it under control.” Logan said, sounding only a little strained. “It would be easier if you had summoned less fractious mounts.” 

“I gotta be me!” 

A hand closed around Thomas’s elbow, helping him back to his feet, and Patton smiled, patting his back. Turning around he saw Remus shooing the horses into a stable that stood to one side, another one of those ominous lamps lighting the entrance. 

The courtyard was entirely in the shadow of the castle, which loomed above them, looking dark, even though it was made of white marble. Streaks of red sunlight peeked between the towers, then faded away even as he watched. Lights flickered on in windows seemingly randomly. Very faintly, Thomas could hear the flapping of the banners above them, and the breath of the sides around him. 

“There’s no one here.” Logan said, sounding slightly confused. 

“What do you mean?” Patton asked. “We’re here.”

“A castle of this size would require staff to run and maintain. But it’s empty.” he paused, then added. “‘Yeet’?” 

Thomas turned in a slow circle, taking the courtyard in, and he had to admit, Logan was right. Except for the five of them, the castle was void of all life.

“Sup.” 

Thomas yelped. 

“Whoa, nostalgia.” Virgil sniggered, from where he stood at the foot of the stairs that led up to the main door of the castle. “I almost missed that.” 

“You’re okay!” Thomas started forward, but Patton beat him, dancing back and forth in front of Virgil. 

“Hug?!” he asked, rubbing his balled hands together, desperately holding himself back. 

“Patton, it hasn’t been that long-” Virgil started. Then he sighed. “Fine. A little one. Because I’m not actually mad at you.” 

Patton threw his arms around Virgil and squeezed. Virgil rolled his eyes at Thomas. 

“If you want in, you’d better get here before he lets go, because the hug shop is closing after.” Thomas absolutely took the opportunity to hug Virgil. He didn’t usually end up deep enough in the mindscape to touch the sides in the first place, and Virgil hugs were special edition to boot. He pulled away as soon as Virgil patted him between the shoulders, and tugged Patton away as well. 

“I am super glad to see you though. We were worried that something was going to happen to you.” 

“Nah, I’m fine.” 

“Have you found Roman?”

“Yeah.” 

“How’s he?”

Virgil made a noncommittal noise. 

“He’s Roman. Living the drama, brooding in thunderstorms- there’s been like four since I got here, and I have not been here that long.” They could hear the rumble of thunder in the distance, and a flash of lightning momentarily put the towers into sharp relief instead of disappearing into the gathering darkness. 

“Well time is nonlinear here, so that’s not a good indication.” Logan said thoughtfully. 

“But you’ve talked to him?” Thomas asked 

“Yeah.” 

“Can you take us to him?”

“I don’t think he wants to talk to you.” he said it to Patton, but he was looking at Janus and Remus. “but, not gonna lie, that is objectively hilarious.” Virgil said and pointed at Janus. 

“What?” 

Virgil tapped his head, and then like a switch everyone noticed. At some point Janus’s hat had turned white, and no one had noticed. He stepped behind Remus, took it off and stared at it. 

“Is nothing sacred?” Janus grumbled petulantly. 

“It’s okay, DJ. I’m gonna get him good.” Remus said, and kissed the top of the liar’s head before the now snowy white hat was returned.  

“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.” Janus lied smoothly. Hiding behind Remus had done nothing but call attention to himself, he realized as he stepped out. 

“I didn’t think you really wanted to be a ‘white hat’” Virgil smirked. 

“While I didn’t choose the villainous style, it ‘chose me’,” Janus adjusted his gloves. “I am somewhat attached to the aesthetic at this point. You, after all haven’t completely abandoned your dark persona. I don’t see why I should.” 

Virgil just scowled at him. 

“Maybe because you are, in fact, evil?”

“Are you really the one to make that call?” Janus asked, raising his eyebrows. “Judge not, lest thee be judged?” 

“Virge? Is Roman really trying to be a villain?” Thomas asked. Virgil continued to glare at Janus. 

“I guess? He’s got the look down, but.” he shrugged, playing with the edges of his sleeves. “Well, he hasn’t had anyone to be villainous at.” 

“What about the village?” Patton asked. “They seemed pretty spooked.” 

“It’s their job to be spooked.” Virgil waved a dismissive hand. “He tried to terrorize me a bit, but not going to lie, it didn’t have the kind of bite I was used to back when he actually tried to kill me.” 

“Wait, he actually tried to kill you?” Thomas said, aghast.

“Yeah, that’s what the sword was for.” Virgil looked a bit confused. “How could you not know this?” 

“Ro-bro’s just as violent as I am.” Remus volunteered. “He’s just got a Pop-up blocker.”

“That sounds super weird, but that is a dad nickname and kind of a funny image.” Patton allowed. “What he means is I always tried to get him to stop trying to hurt them and just stick to… chasing them away.”

“Also Patton had for a while the opposite of Remus’s effect on the area around him. Any damage got negated to a sort of cartoon bandage immediately.” Logan said thoughtfully. “The lack of realism was… unsettling.” 

Patton rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“And of course, our dear Prince was never very good at taking direction in the first place, so we could compare scars all day if we were so inclined.” Janus waved a hand dismissing it. 

“I have no idea what goes on in my head.” Thomas breathed. Remus cackled and opened his mouth. One of Janus’ hands slapped over it.

“A thought to explore at another time, or better yet, forget.” 

Thomas had to admit that was probably a good idea. 

“So Roman’s okay?” he asked Virgil. “Just upset?”

“I think he’s a little more than ‘just upset’’” Virgil frowned, looking at his feet. “He feels betrayed, hurt, lost and scared, among other things. Which makes him feel bad, and bad is evil apparently.” 

“Sounds like you’re the right person to help him deal with all that.”

Virgil snorted. “It is kind of my specialty.”

“But I’m really worried about him, so…” Thomas gestured, “Can we see him?

“Yeah well,” Virgil put his hands in his pockets, and looked away from them. “What if I agree with him?”

“What?”

“Not about the villain thing, that’s just him being royal the only way he can, a royal pain in the ass of a drama king.” Virgil glowered at Janus who just shifted in place, keeping his face neutral. “I warned you, over and over. Not to trust them. You trust me to keep you safe. You accepted that’s what I wanted, and it is, and I’m trying to do it. Trying keep you safe from them.” he gestured to the other dark sides. “And YOU’RE NOT LISTENING.” For a moment the shadows around him came alive. He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Why?” 

“What makes you so special, Virgil?” Janus said. “Not that I want a full family welcome, I don’t mind staying in the background. But why shouldn’t I want what you have?” he gritted his teeth and hissed slightly, smoothing down the front of his jacket. “I’m sorry. I led you astray and I hurt you, and the only excuse I had was that I thought I was doing the right thing at the time.” He took a step forward and gestured between them. “I can’t help what I am. What Thomas makes of me. But I still only want what’s best for him. And if the best way to get that is…” his face twisted “Honesty, then I’ll give that a shot.” 

“Why should I believe that? Why should any of us believe anything you say?” 

Janus’s nostrils flared and he rocked back.  

“It’s a close thing, Virgil, but you’re normally more rational than Roman. So let me ask you simply- is there anything I could do to convince you of my sincerity?” 

Virgil’s eyes flicked up to the side. 

“No.” 

“I see.” Janus’s nostrils flared again, and he sighed. “... nothing for it I suppose.” stretching out his hand towards the floor, the hooked black staff they’d seen before appeared. Virgil took a step backwards one hand going behind his back, and his body stiffened as Janus twisted the hook to the left and slid loose a few inches of blade.

“Jeezy creezy.” Thomas said quietly. “Has that always been there?” 

Janus turned the staff and held it, crook and exposed blade towards Virgil. Virgil stared at it for a long moment, eyes flicking back up to Janus.

“Go on. Take it.” 

Virgil reached out with his right hand, keeping his left behind his back, and wrapped his hand around the handle, drawing the rest of the blade out of the staff. It was shorter than Roman’s blade, and completely straight. The rest of the staff dropped, bounced once on the floor and disappeared. 

“If I can’t convince you, we can’t work together for the good of Thomas. Which, believe it or not, is all I want.” He took a step forward, holding the blade between two gloved fingers, and setting the point against his throat, right above the dip of his collar. “Because we lack trust.” 

“Fuck Dee-” Virgil said, arm trembling, he stepped back, and Janus stepped forward, maintaining the contact. “I could kill you-” 

“Yes. That’s the point.” 

“No the point is I can’t trust you, not that you don’t trust me-” His arm was shaking more. “This doesn’t prove shit!” 

“Trust has to start somewhere.” Even though his fingers could have hardly stopped the blade if Virgil had chosen to thrust, Janus still dropped his hand. He took a deep breath, and the point dug into his skin, just a bit. No one said anything, just staring at the standoff. Even though he was trembling, Virgil didn’t lower his arm either. He glared out from between his bangs and eyebags.  “I’m sorry.” he repeated, so quiet that Virgil might have missed it if he wasn’t looking at his face.

“YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT.” his voice crackled. 

“I don’t know what else I can say.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” the volume was low but it still crackled when he spoke, and Virgil grimaced, drawing a deep breath. 

“Now that’s just completely untrue.” Janus said mildly, like he didn’t have a blade to his throat.

“I hate you because I’m scared, okay? Personal scared, not anxiety scared.” Virgil’s arm flexed, and Janus tipped his head just  bit to breathe better, not removing the blade from his skin. “And I… I wanted you to fight for me. But you just said that if it served me better to go to the ‘light’ side, I should do it. That I wasn’t needed in the dark.” 

“I said.” Janus breathed. “That you didn’t need to be dark.” 

Virgil moved the blade- making everyone breathe a sigh of relief, though that didn’t last long as he gestured wildly with it. 

“And then I was afraid that if I didn’t hate you, like the lights hated us, then they’d hate me, and no matter what I’d get pushed away, and then I’d have nowhere to be. I’d live in exile in the figment suburb and no one would talk to me ever again. Which sounds pretty good when you first say it, but not at all if you actually picture it.” he dragged his free hand down his face. 

Patton shifted uncomfortably, looking guilty and kept glancing over at Logan, who just looked like he was facing a word puzzle with one too few pieces. 

“I’m scared that I’m going to lose what I have now, because I was a dark side. Because I still am, even if I’m trying to do the right thing, I’m bad at it. I’m scared of what’s going to happen next, if you’re going to be around. And it is so easy” he bared his teeth, and it was definitely not a smile, the canines too pronounced and all of his teeth sharper than Thomas’s.  “To go from scared to angry. And to get so angry I only could hate you. It’s not like you make yourself easy to like.” he added.

“And hate leads to suffering.” Logan supplied. They all stared at him. “What? ‘Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering.’ It’s the path to the dark side. Star Wars. Yoda.” 

“Or away from the dark side, in this case.” Remus snorted. 

“Okay, you’re a nerd, but not wrong.” Virgil allowed. “I’ve definitely been suffering. And it’s stupid. Because if you’re accepted, all of you, knowing what you are, then what did I hide for? Does my suffering even matter? I thought… I was special. Just for a little. That I could make that jump.” 

“Virgil, I am very sorry but I am going to hug you really hard unless you tell me not to before I get there-”

“Patton, wha-” 

Patton crashed into Virgil, and wrapped his arms around him. “You were, and are always special.” he said forcefully “I am so, so sorry Virgil. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like that.”

“It wasn’t… it wasn't just you, Pat.” Virgil mumbled, not pulling away. Falling from his hand, the blade from Janus’s staff hit the floor and disappeared. 

“No but. I’m responsible. Everybody listens to me more, because Thomas feels things so strongly, so I need to be more careful what I say. It’s not enough to be silly and fun. I can hurt people without meaning to, or with the best intentions. But I still hurt them. And I have to take responsibility for that. Like a real grown up, not just playing pretend.” 

“Hey, don’t get too grown up.” Thomas protested. “I mean, I could do without the enthusiastic moral dilemmas, but I like you the way you are, Pat.” He switched his focus. “And that goes for you too, Virgil. You can be hard to take, but I’ve gotten used to it. It’s… actually a lot easier for me to deal with anxiety, when I have a face to put to it, especially a friendly one.”

Virgil raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Friendly?”

“Gah don’t just… do that thing.” Thomas gave a little shudder. “Yes, friendly. You’re a friend. You’re my friend. Not just my anxiety.” 

Virgil sighed, and let his head drop to Patton’s shoulder. Patton hugged him a little harder. 

“Roman needed a friend pretty badly. I just… I got it, you know? Sometimes you just get caught up in what you don’t  want to be, so you just go in the opposite direction no matter what.” He straightened up and pulled away. Patton let him go and stepped back himself. “I don’t think I’ve been the best friend lately.” 

“No, you’ve been fine-” Thomas started to object.

“Not just to you. I’ve said some… shit.” his eyes skittered over Janus and Remus, focusing on Logan. “Logan- I… I’m sorry. You may not be easy to deal with, but you definitely had my back, and I lashed out at you. I do that a lot.”

“Shortness of temper is a common symptom of anxiety disorders.” Logan said dismissively, hiding behind his stoic shield. 

“See- like that. Fuck.” He pushed his bangs back. “Let me apologize for lashing out at you, while we’re having this giant stupid sorry circle, okay?” 

“Thank you. But you don’t need to apologize. I am above petty emotions. I’m just glad you’re aware of the problem now.”

Behind Logan’s back, Janus mockingly flapped his hand like he was working a puppet, rolling his eyes, as a forked tongue flicked out in a brief blep. Everyone understood, and no one said anything.  They could deal with Logan’s issues another day. 

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Virgil sighed. “I’ll try and stay aware of it.” 

“That’s all I can hope for.” he paused, and looked downward. “For what it is worth… I accept your apology, Virgil.” 

The corner of Virgil’s mouth came up, an affectionate little smile. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yay sharing is caring just like syphilis.” Remus rolled his eyes so hard Thomas almost expected to see them leave his head. “Hey, Virgilicous, just so you know; I mean I know this was a whole big drama-boy bullshit? But if you’d slit his throat, you’d follow him down.” Remus said in a purely conversational tone. “That being said, can we just” he made walking motions with his fingers. “Get on with our audience with his royal pain-in-the-ass?”

“I’m sorry your dis-grace did you have someplace to be?” he sneered. 

“I got places I’d rather be, including an actual midden, not just an emotional one.” 

Virgil heaved a big sigh, and looked at Thomas, Logan and Patton.

“Do you think it’ll help?” he asked, looking a bit lost. 

“I have to try.” Thomas answered. “If he’s hurting, I have to try to do something. I wasn’t in a great place to see how he felt when it happened. But I can’t just let him-”

“Fester.” put in Remus.

“...well… yeah, I guess.” 

“I’m helping.” Remus said cheerfully to Janus and Logan who shared an exasperated look. 

“He is hurting.” Virgil said quietly. “Fine. This way.” He turned and headed up the steps, pushing the huge doors at the top open with both hands. They left the dimly lit courtyard, the sky too overcast to show any early stars or moon, and followed him into the castle proper.

Within a few steps, the faint light from the few lamps in the courtyard was gone. Somehow they could still make out Virgil’s outline, faintly visible in a nimbus of violet light that illuminated nothing. 

“Remus, do you think you could provide a little light?” Logan’s voice came. “I’d rather not collide with any furniture.”

“Sure, Doc Dork. I think I can do that right now.” There was a noise more like a crack than a snap, and candelabras sprung to life one after another along the edge of the entry hall, burning faintly green. 

“Ow!” Patton yelped, squinting a bit at the sudden light. Now illuminated, there was still a bit of resemblance to the Beast’s castle, though less worn down. The polished floor sparkled a little like there were pieces of mica embedded in the dark marble. Despite Logan’s concerns there wasn’t much furniture at all, a few end tables between closed doors holding decorative objects. 

The entry hall was easily two stories high, ceiling decorated painted panels, between them the columns were topped with either gargoyle-like angels, or angel-like gargoyles. Remus peered at them crossly, and Thomas had to look away as too many eyes looked back at him. At the end of the entry hall was a wide staircase, softened by a scarlet velvet runner rug, edged in gold, and pooling at the foot of the stairs, inviting like an inverted arrow. There was a landing, about a story up, and two flights of stairs that went in opposite directions to a gallery around the edge of the hall, and presumably off to other wings. 

There was a portrait at the head of the stairway, larger than life, and framed by two sconces that illuminated it, displaying Roman in all his ‘evil’ persona’s glory. A black fitted, tailed coat, dripping with golden embroidery and frogging, with red cuffs also covered in gold work, black gloves, of course, red epaulets with golden fringe, apparently holding up a flowing red cape, black leather boots up to the thigh where they were cuffed in gold with red embroidery. Red pants so tight they might as well have been leggings were tucked into them. His hair had been swept back, and he wore red eye makeup. Earrings dangled from each lobe, such a dark red they looked almost black. A broach of his crest centered at the base of his throat, somehow looking ominous while being unchanged. 

“Damn.” Janus said softly, admiringly.  Remus gave him an offended look.  “What? It’s an effective outfit!” He tapped his fingers against his chin thoughtfully. “A bit stuffed I think.” 

“Do you think?” Logan asked. “I assumed it was a dancer’s belt.”

“They do have that effect don’t they?”

“I can’t believe I kept my clothes on for this.” grumbled Remus. 

“Are you guys coming or not?” Virgil asked from the landing beneath the portrait. 

“Virgil, what are you wearing?” Thomas asked suddenly. When they’d been talking in the courtyard, Virgil was dressed as he normally was; now he was distinctly not.

 Looking down at the black and silver uniform that might have very well come off an extra in the black parade, but for an added hood and a few purple plaid patches, Virgil sighed. “Atmosphere.” 

“And lipstick.” 

He shrugged. “I did that part. I’m working on compromises remember? He asked if I was staying and if I’d … join in.” He smirked a bit. “You can’t honestly think that I’m going to be completely against a little drama?” 

“So whose side are you on?” Patton asked, suddenly concerned.

“Thomas’s.” he tapped the toe of his boot against the stone floor. “Who else?” 

"Oh. That's ok then." he smiled, and hopped up the stairs towards Virgil. Thomas took another moment staring at the portrait, then followed. He ran the last time he’d actually seen and spoken to Roman over in his head, trying to think of what he was going to say. What could he say? What was Roman going to say? 

Leading them down a hallway, Virgil glanced back at him. 

“Breathe. In and out, Thomas. You’ve been doing it your whole life.” 

“Is it going to be okay?” Thomas asked. 

“I am not the person you should be asking.” Virgil shook his head, and led them up another flight of stairs, spiraling around a center column, carved with thorny roses. Behind him, he heard Janus hiss softly.

“The cape too?”

“It’s gettin’ flipping worse.” Remus growled. “F*ck.”

“I have never heard you make that noise with your mouth.” Logan said, a bit surprised. 

“Really what have you heard him make that noise with?” Patton asked. He yelped and clapped his hands over his ears as Remus let out a torrent of expletives, some balderized, some bleeped, and some making it through.

“Patton please, you’re embarrassing yourself.” Logan groaned. “I’ve heard you swear when you sneeze too loudly.” 

“Can’t hear you.” Patton retorted. “My ears are covered.” 

“Keep it down.” Virgil snapped. Then he actually did snap, and Remus choked, unable to breathe or speak. It only lasted for a moment, but that was long enough for Janus to stare at Virgil. Virgil glared back, and flicked his fingers. Remus wheezed in a breath. 

“The dread sorcerer I see.” Janus muttered. 

“Whooo boy.” Remus croaked. “Missed that, kinky boots.” 

“Just... give me a second okay?” Virgil stopped in front of a set of french doors that plainly led out to a balcony. “You don’t want to surprise Roman right now.”

The doors opened to a broad balcony that faced out over the ocean. Storm clouds danced in the distance, but now they could see the moon glowing through the clouds above them, a misty gray light. Against the railing stood a figure in a long cloak, the light turning the crimson to a rich garnet. He tipped his head as Virgil’s boots made noise while he crossed the stone, but didn’t turn around. 

“Hey, Princy. You’ve got guests.” Virgil said quietly once he was only an arm’s length behind him. 

“I don’t want to see anyone else.” Roman grumbled.  Virgil took the last couple steps forward and nudged him gently with his elbow. 

“You knew this was coming.”

“Why did you bring them here?” Roman demanded. 

“Thomas.” Virgil said like it was a full explanation. Roman drew in a sharp breath through his nose, glancing over his shoulder, and seeing Thomas in the center of the group standing just outside the door, staring at him. 

“Ah. Yes.” Raising a gloved hand he stroked Virgil’s cheek, cupping it momentarily. “It’s been fun while it lasted.” 

Virgil gave a near invisible huff of laughter, nodding and Roman dropped his hand, turning to face them, and moved forward exactly far enough that his cloak could billow dramatically behind him. Virgil stayed slightly behind him and to the left, leaning back on the railing for a moment before jerking forward, glancing over it and taking a nervous step or two away from it.

There was a long pause in which no one spoke, and the only sounds were the cracking of the pennants on the tower, the rustle of his cape, the faint crash of the ocean far below and the thunder and lightning in the distance. 

Roman’s eyes flicked over each of them in turn, coming to rest on Thomas last. Thomas wondered if it was in his head; but the skin around Roman’s eyes looked puffy, and his eyes red, like he’d spent a long time crying. Of course, with the lighting it was hard to tell for sure.

Thomas took a deep breath. Nothing he’d thought of to say on the way here seemed right. Roman deserved his best effort. 

“Roman-” Thomas started, but Roman talked over him. 

“So this is it, come to defeat the villain in his own castle? I’m so glad;” Roman sneered. “That I could bring you all together like this.” 

“Hey have you done anything villainous besides being an a$$hole?” Remus asked curiously. 

“Uhm Roman, Buddy?” Patton said “I don’t like swearing either, but could you ease up on whatever’s making his mouth do that?” 

“Oh? Am I to stop playing nice at all?” Roman demanded. He took a half step back and his hand flexed at his side, a sheathed sword appearing in it. “Because I can certainly do that.” 

“We’re not here to fight!” Patton protested. “Roman please, we just- we miss you.” 

“Clearly.” he sneered, looking at his brother. 

“Hey, don’t look at me, dope-face. I miss you all the time. Sometimes even on purpose.”  he grinned and tucked his hands behind his head. 

“Given the company you’re choosing to keep, I can’t help but feel perhaps you don’t miss me that badly.” He flicked his wrist at them dismissively. “So lovely that you visited, please get out. I have no interest in playing an outdated role that isn’t wanted anyway.” There was a sharp crack of lighting briefly illuminating the balcony. The sky hissed softly as rain started to fall, hard and nearly blinding. Roman turned away to face the sea. 

“Now wait a gosh-darn minute!” Patton protested, barely audible above the rain. “We came all this way to talk to you and you’re not giving us a chance!” 

Virgil raised his hand palm up and a cloud of purple and black glowing magic expanded from it, creating a near invisible shield and shunting the rain off of them. Roman looked at him and Virgil just shrugged. Flicking wet hair back from his face, Roman turned back. 

“Don’t we deserve a chance to try and rescue the prince?!” Patton continued. 

“Rescue from what? A growing awareness that I’m as unwanted as a parasite and a tumor?”  He gestured at Remus and Deceit. Janus was delicately flicking water off an umbrella that he had conjured and held over Thomas’s head. Remus frankly looked thrilled at the comparison. 

“Oooh which one am I? Am I the tumor? I hope I am.” He bounced in place, not minding how the rain had plastered his hair down. The white of his adulterated costume glistened, each raindrop turning crystalline and sparkling in the dim light. “Tumors are fascinating! Did you know that the average person actually gets a cancerous tumor several times in their life, and their body just-” he made a chomping motion with his hand. “Eats it back up? Oooh! Bro, you should have eaten me in the womb!”

“Remus.” Logan said. “Focus. Also we were never in wombs, unless you count Thomas's forming fetus as our genesis as well, rather than counting our creation from the development of his mind-”

“Logan.” Thomas managed pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not now.” 

“Well, what if we got a giant like, whale bladder, and stuffed me and Roman into it- or we could just make a fleshy sack big enough to-” 

“Look, I would much rather go back to what I was doing before you got here.” Roman interrupted. “Virgil’s been showing me some wonderfully dramatic music.” 

“Well, welcome to the black parade, bro.” Remus snorted. “Congrats on reaching PG-13.” Virgil flipped Remus off, but Remus ignored it. “I didn’t bring a cake to jump out of so I’m going to force feed you this angsty bullhockey until you choke on it.” he grinned, teeth white and sharp “and once you’ve puked it all back out, I’m gonna rub your nose in it.” He flourished his wrist and his mace appeared in it. “Sound good?” 

This time the twins came together and clashed before anyone could say anything. 

“Just go away!” Roman yelled, blocking the blow aimed at his head. Remus dropped and aimed the second blow at Roman’s legs, only to get kicked in the head as Roman leapt over it. “I’ve given up! Take it! You wanted attention, and it’s yours!” 

“You don’t get to decide what I want! I want lots of things!” Remus spat back. Roman’s blade lashed out and a curl of hair fell “Mostly, I want things to go back to normal. Boring is more fun to <quack> with.” 

“We just want you back, Roman!” Patton insisted from the sidelines, wringing his hands. 

“Your input is valuable in Thomas’s chosen career.” Logan offered. “Remus is not suited to it.” 

“It’s true, I’m not.” Remus laughed. “But there’s always Onlyfans.” 

“My butt is not getting on camera thanks, there’s a reason we’re shot from the waist up.”

“Your butt is fabulous and worthy of attention!” Roman snapped without thinking about it, pointing at Thomas. 

“Quite the ass-et.” Agreed Remus. 

“Oh shut up.” Roman kicked hard and Remus, not expecting it, went down with a squeak like a breaking dog toy.

“Roman what the fuck.” Thomas breathed.

“There! See! I can be a villain, I did something villainous and low and unchivalrous!”  Roman shouted. 

“You’re a diuck is what you are.” Choked Remus, voice strangled a bit. “Why is it only me!?” 

“Heroes don’t swear.” Roman said.

“I’m not a motherfather hero!” Remus countered. “You can’t just force people to be what you think they should be to fit your narrative, like you’ve always done.” 

“Shut up!” 

 “You’re still doing it! Just because you’ve flipped the script doesn’t mean you’re not still forcing people to play your game.” 

“I said shut up!” he took a baseball swing with his sword as Remus got to his feet, and sent his brother careening back across the balcony, colliding with Logan, who hit the wall with Remus on top of him.

“This Is my life now.” Logan groaned out of breath. “Rationality being crushed under intrusive thoughts.” 

“I like it.” Remus retorted, equally as breathless. “You okay teach?” 

“I am very resilient.”

“I know.” it was a leer, but Remus didn’t get back to his feet just yet. 

Roman looked momentarily horrified at what he’d done, then shook his head, fixing his ‘villain’ sneer in place. 

“I’ve made my point. Leave.” 

Once again, Thomas tried to gather his thoughts. This was all going wrong and he hadn’t even opened his mouth. 

Janus sighed. 

“I prompted this response, I should try and fix it.” He stepped forward, for a moment getting between Thomas and Roman, as he continued to walk towards him. 

“I’m not interested in your honey-thick words, Deceit.” Roman spat. “Take your victory and go.”

“A pyrrhic victory is no kind of win to my mind. Roman-” 

“Oh shut up, you’ve done nothing but lie since you slithered out of the subconscious.” He pointed his blade directly at the other Side. 

“On the contrary, I haven’t lied since I arrived in your castle.” 

Roman scoffed. 

“A likely story.” 

“Like I said, my efforts have resulted in this- role reversal passion play, and that was nowhere near my intent. I want what’s best for Thomas, and this is not it. He needs his hero, Roman. He needs you.” 

“Why should I believe anything you say? Including your claim that you haven’t lied.”

“You won’t trust me if I lie, and you won’t believe me if I tell the truth.” Janus gestured expansively. “You can see how that puts me in a box.”

“Maybe I should put you in a literal box.” Roman growled. He took another step towards Janus, who held his ground.

“Terribly sorry, but Remus put in his dibs for fighting you, and I would hate to disappoint him. You can threaten to kill me later, I promise.” He tipped his head and snorted, giving a near smile. “I…” he grimaced. “I apologize for lashing out. I of all people know even at your cruelest, you aren’t like your brother.” 

“Thank Thomas.” Remus said, finally getting to his feet. 

“Our relationship has been very rocky, mostly because I have never really trusted you either.”

“Oh that’s rich.” Roman said flatly, but his sword lowered.  “Why wouldn’t you trust me? I’m a Prince! Honor and loyalty are my thing.” he didn’t even seem to realize he was talking in the present tense. 

“And what’s another thing that goes with those words, Roman? Duty.” 

“Pfft.” Remus giggled. Janus paused, looking momentarily pained, before smoothing his expression out again. 

“Do you remember the courtroom? I made you judge because of those reasons, and that was my mistake. When you gave your verdict, Roman, you interrupted me.”

“Should I care?”

“Well, it was rude, but by doing that, I never actually managed to make my point.” He shifted in place that little back and forth sway of his. “The point was never the trial. It was supposed to be ridiculous. It was supposed to be pointless. There was never supposed to be a verdict, and I’m sorry for setting you up to make that decision on your own.” He made a small noise of disgust. “I am thoroughly sick of saying sorry.”

“You get used to it.” Patton sighed. 

Janus made another sound of disgust. 

"So what was the point?" Roman demanded. "Why set up a pointless kangaroo court?"

"Ooh that sounds adorable." Patton breathed.

"They'll drown a bitch" Remus supplied.

"The point was to show how silly the debate of if Thomas is good or not was. Thomas is good;" he dipped the first two fingers of each hand "because he chooses to act in ways he considers good." Again the finger quotes. "Even if he chooses the best good for him as opposed to the best good for the most people, he remains good. However, the idea is stuck in his head that only when he chooses good for others is it possible to be Good. It's an entirely emotional appeal-"

"Appeal!" Patton exclaimed “That's more lawyer language!" 

Janus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

"Yes, Patton, but you don't appeal when you win, even if that wasn't the point. But that was why Logan had to be kept out of it. He's too much of a focused problem solver. If he’d been properly involved he would have seen through the facade, even though the actual meat of the matter had to do with emotions which he eschews.”

“I’ll take an apology for that any time.” Logan said mildly. 

“We’ll get to your issues later, Logan.” Janus said. “Do stuff your emotions back into the box you’ve allotted them for the moment.” 

“I don’t want to be in a box.” Muttered Patton quietly. 

Roman shook his head, slowly, then with more force. 

“You were right about one thing.” 

Janus cocked his head. 

“I can’t trust anything you say. You’ve indulged in your theatre, good job-” he applauded sarcastically. “I hope you feel better, trotting out placating little falsehoods as is your wont. But get out. All of you-” he paused. “Not you Virgil, you can stay.”

“Cool.”

“But if I wanted to see any of you, I would have. Take a hint.” he pointed at the door behind them. “Don’t make me use force.” There was a well timed growl of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning which back lit him impressively. “You don’t want me, you don’t need me, and I don’t need any of you.” 

“No.” Thomas said firmly. 

Roman started, as if he’d forgotten Thomas was there at all. His aggressive posture faltered a bit. 

“No?”

“No. You’re my Creativity. My Prince. My Hero. My Roman.” he took a step forward with each title. “I don’t want anyone else.” Reaching out, he put his hands on either side of Roman’s face, cradling it. Very faintly he felt Roman shiver under his touch. “Come back. We need to talk, and I was too messed up in my own problems to remember that you can each get messed up in your own ways. You always help me; and I need to remember to help you.” 

“That’s… it doesn’t work like that.” Roman protested. “We’re here for you. It… it’s not meant to be two ways.” 

The other Sides all looked away. That was more than anyone wanted to admit. They wanted Thomas’s attention, craved it.  But it was true. They were there to support him, not be supported. 

“Well maybe it should be.” Thomas tugged gently on Roman, and he came, folding against Thomas, melting into the hug. 

“Just so we’re all on the same page, if they start fucking, we’re all gonna keep watching, right?” 

“That is the complete opposite of the truth, Remus.” Janus sighed, sounding exhausted.

“I’d watch.” Remus supplied. 

“I know.”

“If you order me to do it, I’ll come back.” Roman sounded choked, face pressed to Thomas’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to order you,” Thomas responded. “I want you to want to come back, as much as I want you back. I want you, I need you, I love you. And if this is what you are now, I’ll take it.” 

“No.” Roman gave a bitter little laugh and shook his head where it was pressed to Thomas’s shoulder. “I’m not… I’m not good at being a villain. It’s hard.” 

“That’s half the fu-” Remus’ breath wheezed out of him in the same moment one of Janus’s hands clapped over his mouth. Virgil and Janus met each other's eyes for a moment, then looked away. 

“I just don’t understand.” Roman’s gloved hands clutched at the back of Thomas’s shirt. “Why does everything have to change so much? Why does it hurt?” 

“I don’t know either.” Thomas admitted. “But it’s better when you have people you love with you.” 

Roman gave another shuddering gasp. 

“I want to be there for you. But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

“Then finding out should be an adventure.” Thomas offered. Roman gave a wet laugh. 

“I remember. Before when the world was all adventure, and failure was just another kind of adventure.”  

Across the balcony, Remus shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut, and sympathetic tears leaking as Roman lost himself in memory and he synched with it.  He clutched at his own arms, and then relaxed as Janus wrapped himself around the Duke. It wasn’t the same, but in the end, it was all Remus had ever had. 

He watched Thomas and Roman over Janus’s shoulder, as their clothes faded back to their normal black, and the storm raging around them passed on, leaving a bright, full moon high in the sky to pop through the clouds, and then stars shining brightly as the last of the storm winds tore the clouds apart and cleared the sky.   

Their placement on the balcony, and the lack of lights in the castle made it seem like they were floating in a star filled sky. Logan filled his eyes with it, looking anywhere but the emotional displays. Patton sidled up beside him and took his hand. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” Thomas murmured in Roman’s ear, still holding him, there were tears in his eyes. 

“I’ll forgive you, I’ll always forgive you.” Roman returned. “But I still hurt.” 

“Then we can only learn from the pain.” Thomas closed his eyes. “But never doubt what you mean to me.”

When he opened his eyes again, they were back in his living room, and Roman was no longer in his arms, instead standing in his usual spot in front of the TV. He still wore the dramatic gold-adorned costume, though the coat was now white, and his hands were bare. He rubbed at the edge of one eye, still red from emotion, and a bit of smeared makeup.

“I must look a mess.” he sniffed.

“I just want to be clear, are you concerned about your appearance, or are you ‘trawling for praise’?” Logan asked. “Either way, while it might take some time to get used to your attire, you are as handsome as ever.” 

Roman looked surprised, and a little touched. 

“Really? Do you think I should keep it?” he twirled his cape. 

“You can if you want, but I’m sticking in my comfort zone.” Virgil said, back in his normal attire and placement. “But I’m glad you’re back where you belong, Princey.” 

“I still want to hear that music, Lilac Park.” 

“Normally I’m not about trying new things, but sure.” Virgil gave a little smile. Thomas relaxed minutely. He’d had more than enough adventure for one day. A moment later, Patton popped up. His eyes were wet too. 

“I’m so glad you’re back with us Roman.” he said. “I was setting up a welcome home meal real quick. It’ll be ready for us when we get there.” he glanced over to Thomas. “Uhm, you can join us but-”

“I think I’m just gonna order a pizza and crash.” Thomas assured him. “I mean, I’m always with you guys, the same way you’re with me. But I think I’ve had enough Mindscape adventures for the day. Maybe the month.” he added. “Roman, if you ever feel like that again, just… know you can trust me, okay?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” he nodded, and looked over. Half hidden in the shadows on the stairs to Virgil’s left were his brother and Janus, Janus sitting on the step behind him with his arms around his neck still. Roman took a deep breath. “... Janus?”

The other Side startled, tipping the scaled side of his face in Roman’s direction, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry. For making fun of your name.”

“It’s alright Roman.” Janus airily answered. “It’s not like it actually hurt me or anything. I don’t know what I expected.”

“You should have expected it, because I’m terrible to you. Even before I coined the term ‘Dark Sides’.” 

“Fuckin’ right.” Remus muttered, still looking a bit spaced out. 

“So… I’ll do my best if you will.” 

“Are you sure you want to make a deal with a snake in the grass?” Janus retorted. 

“No. But I will.” 

Janus smiled suddenly and unconsciously. 

“Well, I’ll do my best not to abuse that trust then.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Janus laughed at that. 

“Fine.” He gave a nod. 

“I’m gonna sleep for a week.” Remus groused. “I had to be fuckin’ serious and focused. Work sucks, I’m going to go back to just throwing random impulses. Smell you later.” He and Janus both vanished.

“We’re much more likely to smell him first.” Logan commented. “Get some rest Thomas. We’ll reschedule your brainstorming for another day.” 

“Yeah. See you.” 

One by one the Sides sunk down, leaving him alone. He threw himself backwards into the embrace of his sofa. Somehow he felt better, like a he’d been missing something he didn’t realize, and now it was back. 

“Peace out.” Thomas muttered to himself, and gave a small laugh, hugging himself. 

#willow is writing #Sanders Sides Fic #TS Thomas #TS Logan #TS Patton #TS Janus #TS Remus #TS Virgil #TS Roman

[mytardisisparked]

When Sunrise Comes Early

(this is based on that one comic where Palpatine takes Padawan Anakin to a bar and a conversation with @cinna-wanroll @wonderlandleighleigh and @dettiot)

Obi-Wan blinked, hardly believing the words coming out of his padawan’s mouth; not really wanting to believe the words coming out of his padawan’s mouth.

“Chancellor Palpatine.... took you to a bar?”

Anakin nodded, not quite meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t really know what to do so I just let him. He was being so kind and I didn’t know how to say no.”

Obi-Wan felt a tug at his heart. He kneeled before Anakin and rested gentle hands on his shoulders, causing the distressed young man to finally look him in the eye. “Anakin, this is not your fault, and I am glad you told me. The Chancellor had no right to take you there and put you in a place where you were not comfortable.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Or a place where you were too young to even get in the front door,” he muttered under his breath. 

He wanted so desperately to have words with the Chancellor. Nothing would make Obi-Wan feel better about the fact that the man had taken his young charge out drinking, but marching into the Chancellor’s office and reaming him a new one would certainly be a good start. That, however, wouldn’t be very Jedi-like of Obi-Wan, and it probably wasn’t a wise move in terms of making sure actual consequences would be dealt. He would have to talk to the Jedi Council about this and see what could, and should, be done.

But first: Anakin.

Obi-Wan smiled at the teary-eyed 16-year-old and patted his shoulder. “Thank you for being honest with me, Anakin. I’m very proud of you.”

The boy sniffled, but still gave him a half-smile. “Thanks for not getting mad.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “This was not your fault, however, I’m sure you’ll find some other way to try my patience when we resume training.”

Anakin grinned wickedly. “I have figured out a new move I want to show you.”

Obi-Wan stood and ruffled his padawan’s hair. “I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

__________

“The Chancellor did what?”

Obi-Wan had never seen Mace Windu outraged and, frankly, it was a bit frightening.

“Believe me, I wish it weren’t true, but Anakin would not lie about something like this.”

Mace and Yoda turned to look at one another, a silent message passing between them as the rest of the council murmured quietly, bits of their whispered words meeting Obi-Wan’s ears.

“What sort of man-”

“-his intentions couldn’t have been-”

“-not appropriate at all-”

“Poor Skywalker must not have known what to do.”

The conversations died down as Yoda tapped his stick on the floor.

“Troubling, this news is, but, I’m afraid, unsurprising. Underhanded, the Chancellor has always seemed. Too long, has he been in office.” Yoda ran a hand over the wispy, white hairs along his green scalp. “Perhaps an opportunity this will be, to encourage a vote of no confidence.”

The whispers that had filled the room moments ago returned at a higher volume.

“I understand that this was an inappropriate move on the Chancellor’s part,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said, “but we are not politicians! We cannot make political moves like this; it isn’t our job.”

“And what, pray tell, is our job?” Adi Gallia spoke up from her seat. “We shouldn’t be too involved in politics, yes, but we are also meant to be keepers of the peace. If the Chancellor is willing to manipulate a 16-year-old with incredible strength in the Force, what other lines is he willing to cross?”

Other chatter filled the room, voices overlapping until no one could be understood. Obi-Wan tucked his cloak tighter around himself, wishing very much that someone would excuse him while the council discussed this matter thoroughly or, at least, that they would allow him to remove himself from the very center of the room. 

“Enough.” Mace Windu’s commanding voice silenced the others in an instant. “No matter what your thoughts are on the politics of all of this, we all must agree that the Chancellor’s actions towards young Skywalker cannot go without consequence.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I believe that the best course of action from here is to let the Senate know what we know and allow the Senate to act as they see fit. I know that the majority of the Senators might like Palpatine, but they absolutely will not stand for this near-perverted act.”

Much to Obi-Wan’s relief, the rest of the room nodded in agreement.

“It’s settled then.” Mace leaned back in his chair again. “I’ll go before the Senate tomorrow morning and we will see what they decide.”

_________

The Senate was positively shocked when Mace Windu stepped in front of them and told them what the Chancellor had done. Some of the Senators demanded more definite proof, but the security holograms from the city that Obi-Wan himself had pulled the day before, depicting Palpatine walking with Anakin Skywalker through the underbelly of Coruscant, were enough evidence to cause almost the entire Senate to call for Palpatine’s removal. Even if they weren’t demanding a vote of no confidence now, the idea had already been implanted in everyone’s mind that the Chancellor was a pervert. No one would be proposing an extension to his term next election season.

As shocked as the senators were, however, no one seemed more surprised than Palpatine himself. 

As Mace had recounted Skywalker’s tale, the Chancellor had gone positively white, his facial expression shifting rapidly between shock, confusion, anger, and outrage. He had the look of a man watching his hand-built house burn to the ground as the Senate voted him out of office, replacing him with Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan.

As he was escorted out of the Senate, however, Mace and Obi-Wan felt his mood change. He became eerily quiet; his earlier shock completely vanished, leaving only a disconcerting silence that made the Jedi feel very uneasy. They left him at his apartment door, informing him that he would be escorted to his office tomorrow to retrieve his things. As they left, Palpatine simply smiled, and wished them a good night.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Obi-Wan muttered as he and Mace began working their way back to the Jedi Temple through the dark streets of Coruscant. “That went too well; Palpatine was too compliant.”

Mace nodded. “I agree. The Jedi will keep an eye on him as he moves back to Naboo over the next week, but I’m considering keeping a permanent watch there for the foreseeable future. The cloud of the Dark Side hangs around him.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “That seems wise.”

They walked in silence for a moment.

“How is your padawan handling all of this?” Mace asked quietly.

“He’s... fine. His trust in the Chancellor has been broken, which leaves a wound that will take time to heal but,” Obi-Wan sighed, “he is quite resilient. That being said, I think he needs to be around people who he can trust right now. I worry that this event will bring up latent trauma from his years as a slave.”

Mace nodded. “I think that might be wise.” He was silent a moment longer. “Does he still miss his mother?”

Obi-Wan’s heart clenched. “Yes. He doesn’t speak about her as often as he used to, but I can still sense his desire to see her again sometimes when he meditates.”

The older Jedi simply hummed in response, leading Obi-Wan up the front steps of the Jedi Temple.

As the two Jedi slipped through the towering front doors they immediately froze, eyes meeting. Something was wrong.

A disturbance in the Force.

They took off as fast as they could, racing up the stairs to find the source of the disturbance in the council chambers. As they flung the massive doors open, they saw Adi, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Yoda surrounding a dark figure with their lightsabers drawn, meeting the flashes of a red saber with a speed only the Force could provide. In one corner, Yaddle lay, holding a small, clawed hand to a wound in her side. And finally, at the center of the room was a dark figure, fending off the three Jedi masterfully, his dark presence filling the room to the point where it was nearly suffocating.

A dark Lord of the Sith was attacking the Council Chambers.

Hey guys! This is the first chapter of a fic that will be published on AO3. It will explore a world where the Jedi discover Sidious’s plans early on and the ripple effect this has across the galaxy. It will likely skip around a bit between characters and time jumps depending on what I decide to focus on in a particular chapter. It’s not going to be all fluff, but it is going to be a relatively feel-good fic (so not a whole lot of plot). I hope you enjoy!

#star wars #the clone wars #obi-wan #anakin #palpatine #sheev gets the heebie jeebies #mace #will there be obitine in this eventually? #heck yes that's my brand #also some anidala #and fixit stuff within the Jedi order #its not going to be super plot-heavy #mostly feel-good stuff

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

New Beginnings (Part 7)

*Not My Gif*

Post date: 12-16-19

Paring: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 3K

~New Beginnings~

~Master~

~Series Master~

The flight to Europe was nerve racking to say the least. You tried to busy yourself with anything you could as Peter made his new suit, helping pick out features and advancements until Happy come out.

“Ok, Fury’s got the coded message.” Happy told you as you spun around to face him.

“Think he understood?” You asked the men as Peter, put his hand on you to comfort you. “Well, I guess if he didn’t we’re screwed so…”

“Hey.” Peter whispered as he rubbed your back, making you take a deep breath. “It’ll work.” He assured you, your smile brightened as you ducked your head.

“Your friends are at the tower bridge.” Happy said as he showed you the phone and Flash’s vlog. “We’re close.” You nodded your head, hoping that this all would work out in your favor. “How’s the suit coming?”

“Almost done.” Happy asked Peter to run through what he was going to do. “I know his illusion tech. If I take it down then he’s just a man and I can take EDITH back.”

“Yeah.” You interrupted him, “But last time you got hit by a train.” Happy agreed with you as Peter nodded.

“True, but I have this sort of sixth sense.”

“Your Peter-Tingle.” You sputtered out a laugh, quickly bringing your hand up to hide the smile spread across your face. Peter glared at you, his eyes wide as you buried your face against his arm.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! It’s just, Peter-Tingle.” You laughed once again as Happy chuckled, Peter finding everything not amusing .

“Can we get back to the bad guy wanting to kill our friends!” His voice cracked as he raised it, making you turn your smile into a forced frown and standing up straighter.

“Right, I’m sorry, continue.”

Peter eyed you one more time before Happy spoke up. “But isn’t your Peter Tingle not working?” You tried hard to keep your laughs in you as Happy kept repeating Peter Tingle before leaving you both in the workspace. Peter saw your expression, the way your mouth was a very clear forced U and your eyes narrowing.

“Ok, let it out.” Peter beckoned as you let out your laugh, even making the boy laugh with you a little. “Are you done.” You nodded as you pulled Peter over to his suit, watching as it placed the spider in the chest. “It looks good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.” You turned around to face him, as your body pressed into his, not at all expecting to be that closer. It was almost as if you were frozen, yet you had complete control of your body and didn’t try to move. Not that Peter did either. You stared into his brown eyes, his breathing low and controlled as his hand found its way to your hip.

“Y/N.” His voice was quiet, and your heart sounded in your ears, barely drowning out his words. “Be careful.” He told you as you sucked in a breath and bit your lip.

“Me be careful?” You grabbed his other hand, threading your fingers together. “Pete, I’m not the one who’s fighting a mad man who wants to kill half of London. I need you to be careful. I can’t lose you and swear to god, if you die, I’ll kill you.” Peter chuckled, his eyes closing momentarily as you drank in his smile and laugh, praying to anyone that it wouldn’t be the last time you got to hear it. Peter’s eyes opened and like you, he relished the gentle look on your face and your mouth. But in the closeness of your bodies, Peter’s eyes focused more on your lips and you did the same. Your breath stopped, extending out the seconds you both leaned into each other, eyes closing and just a few more inches.

“London Bridge’s just ahead!” Happy shouted from the cockpit as Peter jumped away, your breath slapping you as it came back, making you cough in the awkwardness as you turned to the suit with wide eyes. Peter turned to look at you, seeing the way your head drooped and your chest was rising and falling faster than normal. He reached a hand towards you but let it fall to his side before reaching you, shaking his head.

“I’ll let you get changed.” You muttered as you pushed past him, avoiding looking in his face as he watched you join Happy.

He grabbed his hair, pulling it slightly as he covered his face. He could believe he possibly just messed everything up in a matter of 5 seconds. He sighed, resting his head in his hands for a few seconds before trying to shake off those remaining feelings as he put on the suit.

You were quiet as you sat down next to Happy, staring out into the sky. Happy saw you out of the corner of his eye. The stoic expression on your face scared him as he fully looked over. “You okay?” he asked as you hummed a yes but didn’t say any more and happy that Happy didn’t push it more.

Peter crawled along on the outside of the plane as you approached the London bridge and the big almost tornado looking thing above it worried you. You pushed yourself off the chair and came closer to the window, peering out of it with worry as Happy and Peter talked.

“Peter are you sure that’s not real?” Happy asked as Peter clung to the plane, looking at the creature.

“Yeah, but it’s a hundred times bigger than we expected.” You said as you fell back into your seat with a heavy sigh. There was no way this could end the way you wanted. “You need to get higher Happy.”

“Y/N’s right! You need to get higher so Beck can’t see me coming!” Peter shouted as you turned to see him. All the worries bubbling in you expressed clearly on your face and all Peter wanted to do was calm your fears, but right now he couldn’t.

“Stay sticky.” Happy told Peter as he pulled the plane up into the air more above the elemental.

“Hey Happy!” Peter yelled towards the man. “When this is over, we need to have a serious conversation about you and my aunt!” Peter flew off the plane, dropping right into the eye of the storm as you watched, grabbing onto your seat to keep you in place.

Happy and you tried to find your friends but Flash’s vlog wasn’t helping much. It was only when the elemental started to break apart and reveal the drones were you able to figure out where they were. You showed the phone to Happy as he smirked.

“Gotcha.” He landed the plane, both of rushing off and out into the streets of London. The moment you saw MJ, you ran into her, both of you wrapping your arms around each other in relief.

“Thank god!” you mumbled into her shoulder before turning to Ned and hugging him.

“Where’s Peter?” He asked, looking around for any glimpse of Peter’s spider suit. All it took was for one look at the elemental for Ned to understand.

“You all need to get on the Jet!” Happy reminded you as you nodded, grabbing your friends before MJ stopped in her tracks.

“Who are you?” She asked, squinting her eyes. You told them he was Happy Hogan and he worked with Spider-Man before Flash’s eyes lit up.

“You work for Spider-Man?!” He screamed as you held back a laugh.

Happy glared at the boy before yelling at him. “I work WITH Spider-Man, not for! And you need to get on the jet!” He repeated himself. You groaned and tried once again to pull them along before a pair of missiles hit the jet and all of a sudden it was gone. You and Happy shared a look before turning to your friends. “Ok, new plan.”

“Y/N! Are you okay?!” Peter spoke over the com you forgot you had in as you sighed, running to the tower right next to MJ.

“Yeah Pete, we’re fine.” You huffed out as you dodged the several people running past you, men and women clutching children or pulling them along and it only fueled you. “Just go get Beck. And be careful!”

“You too!” He shouted back to you. You led the group of your friends through the streets before ending up at the Crown Jewel’s Vault and telling everyone to get in. You were almost there before a drone shot right by your head, making you scream as you clutched MJ’s arm. Both of you frantically ran, holding onto each other as everyone cried out, trying not to get struck by the drone’s fire.

“Take Cover!” You dove to the side at Happy’s word, a suit of armor falling on your wrist as pain shot through your arm. MJ saw you try not to scream as she pushed the thing off you right as the shooting died down. Your backs immediately went against the wall, looking over to see Betty and Ned to you before turning to MJ. Her eyes were wide as she tried to steady her breathing and one slight look past her gave you an idea. You reached for the mace, trying to keep as quiet as possible as you heard a drone slowly make its why down the center of the room. Happy, Flash, and MJ all tried to get you stop but you ignored them, grabbing the weapon and almost letting it clatter on the ground from the weight, but you stopped just in time. The four of you sighed in relief, still very much on edge as you turned around. Betty waved at you, holding a spear in her hand as you smiled and nodded. Ned held her shoulders as she pushed the closest suit of armor over. The drone thought it was a person, shooting at the armor as you swung the mace at it, knocking it over on the first try. You groaned from the strain on your wrist, which definitely was sprained as you dropped the metal weapon on the ground, holding your wrist to your chest. MJ picked up the mace as you all ran into the Vault and Happy tried to get you just a few more seconds as he threw a shield he grabbed at the other drone. Only it fell several feet short.

“How does Cap do that?” He asked rhetorically as he pulled himself into the vault, the doors shutting behind him. Peter was talking to all again, asking if you all were alive as Happy told him you were, and that he bought some extra time. The moment he said those words, the drone fired at the door, it’s laser going right through as you held your wrist tighter in fear.

“Happy what do we do?!” you asked the man when Peter was busy with Beck, leaving the 6 of you to figure out how to save yourself as he saved the world.

“I don’t want to die!” Ned yelled out and You promised Ned he wouldn’t as the room shook. “I’ve wasted most of my life playing video games and we’re gonna die!”

The room shook again.

“I have a fake ID!” Betty admitted. “And I never even used it.

The door banged over and over, everyone screaming their secrets into the room.

“I post stupid video’s daily for people to like.” Happy rebutted Flash’s secret, telling him if it wasn’t for his video’s Spider-Man would’ve never found him. You admired Happy’s ability to make everything better in any situation. Here he was, all of you literally being shot at and Happy was telling Flash he saved them all. “Spider-Man follows me? I-I saved us guys!”

“If you saved us, then why are we going to die?!” MJ cried out as everyone yelled at her, including you as she became more distraught. “I’m Sorry! I’m obsessed with telling the truth even though it hurts other people’s feelings!”

“I’m in love with Spider-Man’s Aunt.” Happy said with one of the calmest faces you’ve ever seen before. “What? We’re sharing secrets, right?”

Your jaw shook as you heard what Happy had admitted and turned to MJ, your eyes wide before you closed them. “I’m in love with Peter Parker!” Everyone turned to you but you just turned to stare straight ahead, your breathing echoing in your ears as the drone kept shooting. The drone busted through the door and all you could think about was Peter. You didn’t want to die without telling him. You held onto your friends, pushing them behind you without thinking as MJ and Ned grabbed your arms. You were ready for the hit, mentally and physically preparing yourself but nothing. The drones stopped.

You didn’t know what to do, but no one moved. You all were too afraid that it would go off and you’d be dead like that. You stared it down, waiting for something to happen before the drones aimed at you left. Happy reached out to take the spear, or as Ned corrected him, the Halberd from Betty. The doors to the vault were pushed open as you stepped out, checking everything was fine before turning to MJ. Your eyes were watery as she nodded and you took off, ignoring Happy shouting at you as you dashed towards the bridge.

You didn’t stop running until you saw Peter. Your tears finally falling from your eyes at the sight of him. The moment Peter had saw you he choked out a sob, his limping becoming worse as he sped up, almost running to you. You threw your arms around his neck, practically crying into his shoulder as he did the same to you. “Are you okay?” you whispered as he tightened his hold, nodding into your shoulder.

“I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I mean, I think my wrist is sprained, but I’m fine Pete.” You nodded and Peter relaxed at your touch.

“Is everyone else okay?” You nodded again, refusing to let go of him. “What happened?”

“My dad’s drones, they were just following after us and t-then they just stopped. That was you. Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“And Beck? Is he-“ You finally let go off Peter, seeing the red rimmed eyes as he looked at you. It was almost too much for you to see as he said yes and you cupped his cheek. “Thank you for not dying Peter. I don’t think I could’ve handled that.”

Peter smiled, the cut on his lip stretching but he didn’t care as he saw you in front of him, safe. “Y/N, I have to tell you something.” You didn’t know what he was going to say but you needed to do something for you. You couldn’t get what you said in the tower out of your head so without much thought, you brought your lips up to Peter’s pressing the quickest kiss you could to them. But the second you pulled away all you wanted was more. “And you kissed me.”

“Look, Peter I don’t know what you were going to say but I need to say something first. I’ve been in love with you for I don’t even know how long. Everything you do just makes me smile and the thought of losing you today, the only time I’ve been more scared was seeing my dad die.” You felt a tear move down your cheek, but you didn’t even try to hide it as Peter’s eyes were wide, locked on your face. “I just- I needed you to know and even though I know I’ll only be your best friend and that you like MJ-“

Peter’s fingers cut your speech as he wiped your tears, bringing you back into a deeper kiss. It was everything you could’ve asked for in a kiss, but really the one thing that made it perfect was that it Peter kissing you. And he started it.

The feeling of his lips lingered on yours as he pulled away, your eyes staying closed, way past embarrassing as Peter held your hands, being mindful of your wrist. “I think... I think I was convincing myself that I liked MJ because I convinced myself you were just my best friend. And for some stupid reason, I believed myself.” You let your eyes finally open, meeting his chocolate ones as you held your breath. “I love you, too.”

His words were practically whispers, but you heard them none the less. “You do?” He nodded and you smiled brighter than you ever had before. He pulled you in for another kiss, lasting much longer than the first two and the moment it was over, you wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your ear against his chest and hearing his racing heartbeat.

Peter never thought this would’ve happen. Ever. And he wasn’t going to pass it up. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I should go make sure everyone’s alright.” You told Peter, trying to hide the smile on your face as you pulled away from him.

“Yeah, I should uh-“ He pointed behind him, stuttering on his words as you giggled. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” You bit your bottom lip, not at all waiting to leave but knowing you needed to make sure everyone’s okay. “See you in little while?” Peter grinned, nodding his head before you both went your separate ways, taking one last look back until you couldn’t see each other anymore but your giddiness never left.

There’s still more to come! Please Like, Comment and Reblogging and tell me what you think of this part!

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[fire-the-headcanons]

“If you are ready, step forward,” Ozpin said, waving his cane at the launch plates set at the edge of the cliff. The three of them pushed forward together, easily getting to the head of the line. It was like most people weren’t super eager to be hurled off a cliff.

“All right. Find each other first, then we’ll figure out what to do about a fourth person,” Dan said, taking the first plate.

“Right.” Summer stepped up next to him, extending her spear and twisting Gungnir’s arrow free.

Tai took a ready position on the next plate, pooling his aura in his legs to brace for the jolt. We can do this. “It’s gonna take a lot more than chance to break us up.”  The boy from the shuttle took the spot to his left, cape fluttering gently in the breeze.

Follow the Beacon Taiyang—Forever Apartner

[Link to Masterpost]

The first-years flooded down the path in a mass, the bricks under their feet growing rougher with every step away from the school. The sky was clear, there was a light breeze, and Tai couldn’t wait to kill some Grimm.

Dan scowled at the back of the faunus Professor’s head, all the way up at the front of the group. “Why. So. Early.”

“Probably so they can assign teams after the assessment,” Summer replied, her voice taut. Tai’s stomach clenched in an unpleasant way that had nothing to do with the upcoming fight, whatever it entailed.

“I’m just saying. We had to drag all our crap up here yesterday and then we slept on the floor. It’s not a great way to see us fight at our best.”

“But it is a good way to see how you handle adversity.”

Tai froze, head whipping around toward the man who had snuck up behind them, and Summer let out a shocked squeak. They knew that voice, they’d been watching and re-watching recordings of the man’s few public addresses for months.

“Y-yes, Professor Ozpin,” Dan stammered, turning a bright scarlet.

More heads were turning as the group milled to a stop a safe distance from the edge of Beacon cliff. Far below, the Emerald Forest stretched on for miles in an ocean of uninterrupted green. No buildings, no roads.

It was unsettling in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

“As Huntsmen and Huntresses, you’ll rarely have the opportunity to work at your best. You’ll frequently be tired, or hungry, or discouraged. But the people in your care will still need you.” He took a sip from his coffee mug. “Welcome to initiation.” 

He didn’t shout, but he didn’t need to. “All of you have spent your lives up to this point training and learning to become warriors. Consider this your examination. At the northern end of the forest, there is a small ruined temple containing various relics. You and your partner are to retrieve one and return here to the clifftop.”

“So we’re getting our teams assigned today?” someone shouted from the middle of the crowd.

“In a way,” Ozpin replied with a smile that Tai could only describe as devious, walking with his cane but putting next to no weight on it as he circled to the front of the group.  “The first person you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the duration of your time at Beacon.”

WHAT?

Tai wasn’t alone in his assessment. Dan sucked in air like someone had just punched him in the diaphragm, and Summer downright whimpered. Anxious mutters erupted from the other students, almost but not quite drowning out a fervently whispered, “Oh thank gods.”

A dozen eyes stared incredulously at the one who said it—with a jolt, Tai realized it was the grumpy girl from the shuttle, looking much happier than she had yesterday. At least until she realized she was the center of attention and froze with the same kind of terror of a person who broke wind during a school presentation.

“I hope I don’t need to warn you that the forest below is full of the creatures of Grimm,” Ozpin continued, and everyone faced the front again. “And while your teachers will be monitoring your progress, we will not interfere if you find yourselves in over your heads. Are there any questions?”

Tai had plenty of questions, are you fucking kidding me at the top of the list, but his voice seemed to have stopped working.

“Well, I guess it’s better than teams being assigned,” Summer said with grim determination, shifting her grip on Gungnir. “Keep your eyes on the ground until we find each other.”

“If you are ready, step forward,” Ozpin said, waving his cane at the launch plates set at the edge of the cliff. The three of them pushed forward together, easily getting to the head of the line. It was like most people weren’t super eager to be hurled off a cliff.

“All right. Find each other first, then we’ll figure out what to do about a fourth person,” Dan said, taking the first plate.

“Right.” Summer stepped up next to him, extending her spear and twisting Gungnir’s arrow free. 

Tai took a ready position on the next plate, pooling his aura in his legs to brace for the jolt. We can do this. “It’s gonna take a lot more than chance to break us up.”  The boy from the shuttle took the spot to his left, cape fluttering gently in the breeze.

Dan launched with a defiant shout, his mace unfolding as he soared out over the forest. Summer’s plate clicked, probably a safety being disengaged, and she slid her arrow into Tai’s hand a split second before vanishing.

Oh. OH! Why hadn’t he thought of—

WHAM.

It didn’t feel like being thrown, more like being slammed into from below—at least from how the force bounced around his aura—and then he was flying.

He bit down on the arrow, freeing his hands to land. The others had seemed to fly for an eternity, but now that it was his turn in the air, the ground was already getting closer at an alarming pace. Aiming for one of the taller oaks using the drag on his arms and legs to nudge himself on the right trajectory, he silently thanked Balt and Azraq for all the extra skydiving lessons at Signal.

Tai caught a thin branch in one gauntleted hand, pooling his aura down his entire arm to give him the strength to hold on and keep his shoulder from dislocating. The branch twisted him in toward the trunk like a ball on a string, finally breaking under the force—and grabbed another with his other hand, continuing his controlled spiral downward.

Nailed it, he thought, releasing the last branch and aiming to land on a wide branch near the base of the tree. The spikes on his boots bit into the wood as he dropped onto it, bending his knees to absorb his momentum—

CRACK.

Oh, sh—

WHAM.

He hit the forest floor in a heap, the impact knocking the wind clean out of him, and pain shot up his leg as his ankle twisted. The arrow fell from his mouth as he gasped for air, clutching at his foot. Praying it wasn’t broken. Praying there weren’t any Grimm nearby.

The arrow! If Summer activated it, he’d lose his lifeline—and as much as he hated to admit it...he might need rescuing now. 

What felt like an eternity later, he finally managed to shove himself into a sitting position. Arrow firmly clenched in his left hand, he turned his attention to his ankle.

Well, it doesn’t look broken, there’s one thing to be grateful for. He tried to move it, a mistake that sent pain shooting through his whole foot. Aura’s great for impacts...not so great for getting my foot twisted like that. And I was surprised by the fall.

He was a sitting duck in a forest full of Grimm, he couldn’t even walk—

“Okay.” Tai forced himself to keep breathing deeply, though he’d mostly caught his breath. “Okay. This happens. Real Huntsmen mess up.” He grabbed the branch that had broken under him and braced the end on the ground, pushing himself to a standing position. “Real Huntsmen get hurt.”

He glanced up at the tree. Luckily, the lowest branches weren’t too low. He couldn’t fight like this, so his best option was to get somewhere out of reach. Grunting with pain, he limped over and tested his weight before hoisting himself up. 

“Real Huntsmen do not panic,” he panted around the arrow, slowly and painfully dragging himself up, branch by branch, with one useless leg. “Real Huntsmen do not draw the Grimm in while they can’t fight.”

About twenty feet up he sunk into a fork of the tree, almost as out of breath as he’d been after hitting the ground. “That’ll...have to be...good enough.” He wedged the arrow into the wood and held it there with both hands, leaning back against one of the branches to rest.

A camera was bolted to the trunk, just above him, swiveled down to stare him in the face. Of course. The professors had to observe them somehow.

Tai cursed, leaning forward against the other branch instead.

 [I'm so happy with this chapter. It just came together, it's exactly what I wanted... hope you enjoyed too]

Next Chapter: Summer—Half Cocked

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #strq #team strq #taiyang xiao long #summer rose #qrow branwen #raven branwen #ozpin #rwby ozpin #dan effuiller #bad luck charm #dramatic irony #follow the beacon #mine

[queen-scribbles]

Shallow

For @pillarspromptsweekly #69. Another Roll for It where I picked my elements (Ondra, snow, reunion). This is an idea I’ve been sitting on for a really long time (almost a year), so it ran away with me a bit.*cough* almost 4k *cough*

‘A single strike upon the crystal will not be enough. The Eyeless respond only as long as the hammer rings. You will need to remain until their work is complete, wielding the hammer until the walls come crumbling down.’

Ondra’s words stuck in Emiri’s head, circling like a school of frightened fish. She knew what they meant.

‘You will need to remain...’

Her breath caught shallow in her throat, and if not for Pallegina, she would have been crushed by the Eyeless that lumbered around the corner. The sharp jerk sideways snapped Emiri out of her stupor and she scrambled to contribute to the  ensuing fight. But she still wasn’t all there, lingering on the goddess’ words. She knew somehow, despite Edér’s dark humored comment, crushing would not be how she’d go. Not her, Ondra’s least favorite child for reasons Emiri had never figured out.

‘Your sacrifice will be mourned.’

No, if Ondra had any say in it, Emiri would survive the crushing to drown when the moon fragment filled with water. Just the thought of it made her heart pound and blood run cold.

‘Your fate is already sealed.’

She must not have done a good job hiding her distress, because they hadn’t progressed too much further toward their goal when there was a hand on her arm.

“Are you alright?” Aloth asked, then huffed a small laugh though his nose.  “Considering.”

Emiri winced as she paused to answer, both at being so easily read, and at the purplish-blue bruise forming under his eye. “Considering, yes. I’ve always suspected Ondra hated me. Never expected to have proof.” She managed a ghost of a smile. “What can you do when the world needs saving?”

‘You have seen what they will do. This is the way you can stop them.’

“Emiri...” Aloth sighed. He knew she wasn’t telling him everything; she could see it on his face. Sometimes it was an annoyance to have a friend who knew her so damn well.

“It’s fine, Aloth. We should keep moving. I doubt the Eyeless will stand around idle to await their destruction.” Emiri rolled her shoulders, Abydon’s hammer seeming heavier than before, and pressed on. 

‘This is the way you can stop them.’

That would be worth it, right? Saving the world, protecting her friends, that was worth a death from her darkest nightmares. She could do this.

‘Your sacrifice will be mourned.’

Suddenly she was twelve again, shackled and trapped inside a cabin slowly filling with water. Icy fear worming in the base of her skull.

They all but walked into the next trio of Eyeless and Emiri threw herself at them with a scream of helpless frustration. She let her terror and dread fuel her abilities, trying to inflict just a fraction on the remorseless monsters who’d put her in this position. They proved largely resistant to cipher powers, her one moment of triumph coming when she made a mace-handed one attack a lance-armed compatriot zeroing in on Hiravias.

“Thanks, Watcher!” he laughed, flashing her a toothy grin as he flung out a small ball of fire that leapt between all three of the monstrosities.

Emiri nodded wordlessly, dodging a lance thrust, and slammed her hammer against the Eyeless’ leg.

The fight dragged on longer than expected--Abydon made the Eyeless well--and all of them needed a rest after this last fight. So they tucked themselves in a small alcove and took a few minutes to catch their breath.

Hiravias plunked himself down next to Emiri and gave her a dark smile as he held out his jerky to share. “It’s fun when the gods decide you’re special, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, I’m enjoying myself immensely,” Emiri sighed. The light of her halo rippled. “Everyone acts like it’s such an honor to draw the attention of the gods, but...”

“Sometimes you wish they’d shut up and leave you alone?” he supplied, biting off a mouthful of jerky.

“Exactly.” She leaned forward and braced her elbows against her knees. “It’s more a burden than anything.”

“They do have a funny way of showing their regard,” Hiravias agreed. He scratched idly at the scars covering half his face. “Galawain saw fit to make me far less handsome, and Ondra’s outright trying to kill you.”

“That’s nothing new,” Emiri said with a grim almost-smile. “Ondra’s had it in for me since I was eight. Guess she regretted favoring me with her touch.”

“If she’s been after you since you were eight, you’re more resilient than I thought.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Thank you?”

“I already knew you were tough as shit, Watcher,” he clarified, wolfing down the rest of his jerky in two mouthful. “This just adds to it.”

She laughed quietly. “Well, in that case, a more definite thank you.” She sighed. No point in delaying the inevitable. “We should get moving again” --she turned to the rest of the group--”if everyone’s ready?”

There were nods and murmurs of assent from the others. Trying to ignore the nerves fluttering in her chest, Emiri pushed to her feet and led the way further into the fragmented moon.

They passed through another open chamber with a pool of cold, still water at the center, and Emiri couldn’t stop herself from peering into its depths. She half expected to see more of Ondra’s Hair, come to double down on shallow, emotionless promises her sacrifice would be mourned. But there was nothing aside from the flash of scales as lagufaeth darted in and out of view. She wasn’t sure if that was more disappointment or relief.

She wasn’t given long to dwell on it; there were several more groups of Eyeless to fight and she was determined not to split her focus anymore. These fights went much better, though it was still frustrating that they were all but immune to her cipher abilities. Emiri wound up largely just supporting and protecting her friends as they dealt with the creatures.

It was almost a relief--in a perverse, twisted sense--that the last obstacle between them and the crystal column was a kraken. Emiri was far from eager to reach the end of this road, but it was good to have a foe she could actually fight and contribute more than shielding her friends. The fight was still far from easy, but at at last the gigantic beast sank lifeless beneath the surface. They dispatched the pair of Eyeless that lumbered up with only slightly more difficulty, and then it was time. No more delays.

‘Your fate is sealed.’

Emiri looked at her friends, breath coming fast and shallow as it sank in this might be the last time she saw them. She would try to get out once everything came crashing down--why start passively accepting death now?--but wasn’t optimistic about her chances.

‘Your sacrifice will be mourned.’

Yes, but not by you. Emiri had no illusions Ondra actually cared. It would be her friends, the kith who had followed her down here, battered, bruised, and in a couple cases bleeding. They would be doing the mourning. Not some distant uncaring god.

“Miri? You alright?” Edér nudged her arm. “You usually only go all quiet like that when you’re havin’ one of your Watcher moments.”

“Just... collecting my thoughts,” she said softly. Abydon’s hammer was heavy on her back, heavier in her hands as she walked closer and sized up the crystal column. “This... isn’t easy.”

Water filling her mouth, the surface was too far no matter how hard she kicked. The nightmare was real this time, ready to swallow her whole.

“Let me.”

Emiri was so absorbed in fighting through through the fear that it took a couple heartbeats to realize someone had spoken. Someone had offered to take her place.

It took a couple more to realize it had been Aloth, one hand already wrapped around the hammer’s haft so she couldn’t swing it.

“No.” Every fiber of her being, down to the depths of her soul, twisted in vehement rebellion at the thought of asking him--letting him--do this. She pulled the hammer toward her chest, trying to dislodge his grip. “Absolutely not! This is-”

The words stuck in her throat. Terrifying. Necessary. Something I have to do.

Aloth didn’t let go. He met her gaze, eyes somber but glinting with determination at least the match of hers. “I know how much this... fate frightens you,” he said softly. “You told me, under the abbey.”

Emiri snorted and tugged on the hammer again. “I also told you it wasn’t a death I would wish on my worst enemy or strangers who hadn’t done anything to me. Do you really think it’s something I can condemn my best friend to?”

“You’re not.” Something flickered in his eyes, but he squared his shoulders and maintained his dogged grip on the hammer. “Emiri, I... I have had many decisions made for me in my life, followed orders I neither understood not questioned. This is different. This is my choice.”

“But-” The words wouldn’t come, jamming against each other, caught on the lump in Emiri’s throat. She couldn’t let him do this, couldn’t risk losing him. It should be her, was supposed to be her.

“You are the only one who can stop Thaos, Watcher,” Aloth pointed out, emphasizing the word even as she flinched. “Even aside from my more personal reasons, the world still needs you.”

But I need you. She didn’t say it. Didn’t let go of the hammer either. “Aloth...”

“I’ll not be far behind you,” he said, but she could feel the waver in his soul. He only half-believed the words even as he spoke them. “I have warding spells that can help. And I do, in fact, know how to swim.”

Well, that was one he had on her. Emiri finally, reluctantly, loosened her grip. “If you’re sure...”

“I am.” Aloth wrapped both hands around the hammer haft. He got a good grip, took a step closer to the crystal.

“Oh, wait!” Emiri sniffled, darting to where the others silently waited. She tugged Kana over and dug through his pack until she found the diving helmet Mylla had told her about. It was too small for her, so she wasn’t going to bother, but maybe for an elf... “Never hurts to improve your odds, right?” she said, trying for light-hearted.

Aloth nodded and mustered a smile. “Thank you. You... you should start on your way out. I have a feeling it will not be easy.”

The knot in her chest tightened further and her breath came short and sharp. I can’t- Strangling off the sob that was trying to escape, she pulled him into a hug, hammer and all, tight enough his knuckles dug into her ribs. “You better not be far behind,” she murmured fiercely before letting go.

If he wasn’t, if Ondra took the best friend she’d had in her life, Emiri was fully prepared to storm the Beyond itself to make the Sea Queen fix it.

But it wouldn’t come to that, because he was going to escape, she told herself firmly as she rejoined the others. She refused to let herself dwell on any other outcome. “Let’s go,” she said brusquely, heading back for the embankment they’d slid down to get in. “It’ll get much harder once he starts.”

Aloth gave them just enough time to scale the embankment before the first clear--almost beautiful--ring of hammer against crystal resounded through the cavern. It pierced through Emiri’s heart, and if it weren’t for Kana and Pallegina tugging her arms she would have frozen on the spot. A second clear tone resonated, and the ground trembled.

They ran.

No looking back, it would hurt too much, just forward, forward, forward. Up a tunnel as the walls cracked, past the pool where she’d glimpsed lagufaeth as rocks fell from the ceiling.

And slap-bang into the first of the Eyeless as the path crumbled at the edges. Emiri felt as the creatures’ focus shifted from answering the hammer’s summons to this more immediate annoyance. Before they could fully bring their attention to bear, she lashed out, one of the charms she hated to use flying from her lips. These were vessels, not kith, and her friends were in danger. To her surprise it actually worked this time, and her vicious Not us, them had a large knot of the Eyeless attacking their fellows.

“Come on,” she hissed, leading the way past the distracted monsters. That charm wouldn’t last long, and then they would resume their inexorable march toward the still-ringing crystal. As long as there wasn’t anything closer at hand to capture their attention.

They ran on, as the hammered crystal tone rose and swelled behind them. It was louder now, aided by the Eyeless who had reached the cavern. Emiri wondered if it was hurting Aloth’s ears with how close he was. They passed more Eyeless as they scrambled through the crumbling tunnels, but these were too entranced by the resonating crystal tone, almost deafening now, to be much of a threat.

At least Ondra was right about that, Emiri thought dryly as she dodged an idle swipe from a lance-armed Eyeless. She almost tripped over Hiravias a few seconds later when he rolled into her path avoiding a mace-handed one. The tunnels were narrowing, which meant they were getting close to the entrance.

A particularly large chunk of the ceiling crashed down behind them, almost grazing Kana’s back and startling a curse out of Edér. Emiri cringed as she wondered how much worse it was at the heart of all this destruction.

Pallegina blurted something in Vailian and pointed ahead. “Look!”

There was light. Dim and flicking, but there. They were almost out. Almost safe. They rounded the final bend just as a fresh cascade of stone and debris tumbled into the opening as the moon fragment gave a violent lurch. The path wobbled and dropped from under them and another sound filtered up under the din of ringing crystal.

Rushing water.

Fear prickled up Emiri’s spine and she willed herself not to think about anything beyond clearing those rocks. No flashbacks, no thinking about Aloth. Just getting the rest of them out of here. Even as she opened her mouth to see if anyone could take care of it, Hiravias’ voice rose in a familiar spell. A pair of boulders flew from his outstretched hand and smashed through the rubble.

He fell behind, limping, as they resumed their retreat, and Emiri dropped back to grab his arm and pull him up. She heard him hiss out a pained curse and boosted him high enough to wrap his arms around her neck as she ran. Ionni Brathr was already trying its damnedest to claim one of her friends, it couldn’t have another.

They all tumbled free of the rotating moon fragment, feet skidding as they hit the ice. A thunderous crash echoed out behind them and the ice started to splinter with long, jagged cracks. Emiri balled her hands into fists as she scanned for a safe path across.

Must be chest high or deeper by now... She viciously pushed away the thought as Kana’s rich baritone rose in competition with nature itself, lending speed to their feet through song.

It wasn’t until the sting of wind hit her face that Emiri realized she was crying. She swiped at the frozen tears as she ran, bringing up the rear thanks to the added weight of an orlan clinging to her back. There was a loud groan behind her as the moon turned and sank yet further.

Don’t look back. She was almost to the shore. The others had made, Edér and Pallegina each holding out a hand as they hollered encouragement.

A crack rent the air just behind her and ice shards stung the back of her legs. Usher spare us all. 

Her last first steps punched partway through the weakened ice, sending her and Hiravias tumbling into the snow. Emiri muddled her way up to her knees and stared back the way they’d come. Only the moon’s tip was visible above the surface now. She watched it sink through blurry eyes, barely registering when Edér and Kana each rested a hand on her shoulders. Pushed to her feet as the ripples faded, wading into the shallows as the icy water lapped over the tops of her boots. As if there was anything she could do. A shiver raced through her and Emiri hugged her arms in close, nails digging into her coat until she could feel them through the leather and fur as she poured all her focus into a single word.  Please.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

At five the tears started running again and her chest heaved, teetering on the verge of a sob. No, Usher, please. Please don’t....

There was a sharp crack, loud in the silence,even though it paled next to the cacophony of a few moments ago. Emiri swiveled toward the sound just in time to see an arm punch through the ice.

Please.

She was already moving in that direction, frozen fingers tugging open the clasps on her coat, when Aloth’s head came into view and he started pulling himself out of the icy water. Emiri dropped to her knees and skidded across the last couple feet of the ice floe to help him. She hauled him up running on pure adrenaline and bundled him in her heavy, fur-lined coat as he finally released his death grip on his grimoire.

He was alive. Soaked to the bone, shaking from the cold, and sporting several additional bruises and cuts, but alive.

Thank you, Emiri thought fervently in the direction of whichever god or force of nature had answered her as she wrapped Aloth in a hug. “What happened to warding spells?” she asked with a shaky laugh, joy and relief bubbling in her chest. “You’re almost the same color as me.”

Aloth smirked at the weak joke. “They only lasted about two thirds of the way up. And it’s nigh impossible to cast underwater.” He shivered. “If we could perhaps move off the ice...?”

“Oh, of course!” Emiri carefully pushed to her feet and helped him up. His hair was starting to freeze, she realized, and belatedly tugged the hood of her coat up over his head. “I still can’t believe...”

“Neither can I,” Aloth admitted as he bent to pick up his grimoire. “Especially after the first surge of water carried away the helmet.”

“I don’t care,” Emiri said frankly through a hiccuping sob-laugh, hugging him again. “Gods, I don’t care, Aloth, I...”

He wrapped his free arm around her in return. “I know.”

By this point, Edér and Kana had traversed the much safer shore to reach them and begun cautiously making their way out onto the ice. Edér grinned cheerfully and quipped, “Hey, look who’s back from the dead.”

Aloth rolled his eyes as he stepped back from Emiri. “I wasn’t-”

“You were as good as,” Edér cut him off, grin spreading wider when the only response that got was another eyeroll. “C’mon, Pallegina’s tryin’ to start a fire for while she sees what’s up with Hiravias’ leg.”

That sounded wonderful to Emiri, and she wasn’t the one who was soaked head to toe standing on a crack-riddled chunk of ice. All four started to head toward their friends, but Emiri was distracted as the water in the hole rippled violently. She froze, thanks to curiosity more than the weather, and noted in her peripheral Kana had as well. 

He edged closer to her as a lagufaeth popped out of the water, its red and gold scales shimmering in the morning sun. It eyed her with far more intelligence than wilder creatures usually displayed. A familiar intelligence, she realized.

Emiri squinted at the lagufaeth. Exandru...?

It squawked and dropped Abydon’s hammer--she hadn’t even noticed that was gone, too--on the ice ‘Our debt for our freedom is repaid by your friend’s life, Watcher.’ shimmered through her mind.

She nodded and the lagufaeth gave a disgruntled hiss before diving back in the still-trembling water. Still-trembling? She frowned. The lake should be settling by now. She was too drained to deal with anything else weird, they needed to get back to Stalwart--

The fragment of Ionni Brathr rose back out of the lake, the large swaths of broken ice knit back together, and the Eyeless spiraled out to demand explanations for the attempt at their destruction.

Emiri was only too happy to point the finger at Ondra, both for painting the destruction as necessary and corrupting their purpose in the first place. Only too happy to agree some things--like the Engwithan culture--were worth preserving (Kana’s gushing may have tempered her feelings on that subject). Only too happy to encourage they reform Abydon, memory intact, and preserve history once more. Only too happy to part peacefully, no need for conflict, hopefully now in the good graces of at least one god.

She and Kana stood for a long moment in silence after the Eyeless retreated. Then he wrapped an arm comfortingly around her shoulders and guided her back to join their friends.

They took a much-needed but abbreviated rest as Pallegina checked Hiravias’ leg--his knee was badly bruised from falling rock,would hurt to walk on for a while, but no permanent damage--before striking out for Stalwart. Under other circumstances, maybe they would have camped near the lake and dealt with the cold, but Emiri would be damned if she let Aloth freeze to death after he narrowly escaped drowning. She and Kana and Edér traded off carrying Hiravias piggyback. Hiravias grumbled abundant displeasure with this arrangement--especially on Edér’s turns--but even he acknowledged it was the best option.

It took until early evening to reach Stalwart, and it wasn’t until they were safely ensconced in one of the finest rooms the Gréf’s Rest had to offer that Emiri’s heart slowed and she allowed herself a deep breath. They were all alive. Despite the long odds and Ondra’s somber pronouncements, no one had died, a fact that left her shaky with relief.

“I never said thank you,” she commented quietly to Aloth as the two of them sat near-but-not-too-near the fire, nudging his foot with hers.

He smiled, shifted the mug of tea he was nursing. “It was implied.”

“No.” Emiri shook her head, staring at a long scrape that disappeared up his sleeve. “You were willing to die for me, simply because you know that death scares me more than any other. Implied thanks is not good enough.” She held his gaze. “Thank you, Aloth.”

He looked ready to protest, but instead took a long drink of his tea before simply saying, “You’re welcome.” A beat. “It was the least I could do.”

She snorted and shot him a skeptical look. “Pretty sure that rates a little higher than the least, no matter how much you think I’ve done for you.”

Aloth smiled at her again over the rim of his mug. “Agree to disagree.”

She was too tired and too grateful to have this debate with him(again), so Emiri simply shrugged and curled her hands tighter around her own mug of tea.  “Warm yet?”

Aloth looked down at his hands, seemed gratified there wasn’t any more blue tingeing his fingernails, and nodded. “Getting there.”

“Good.”

They lapsed into silence after that, both too tired to do more than simply enjoy each others’ company. Because they were alive and they could.

It was a very good feeling.

#queens fic #pillars prompts weekly #emiri #aloth corfiser #hiravias #ondra #the number of times emiri thought SUCK IT ONDRA during the denouement made me giggle #brotp: woven together

[fight-me-boi]

This Could Be The Start of Something Greater.

~Short character drabbles about the twenty six members of the team. Takes place at different times through out he yj!universe. For @runningwitches . Happy Holidays. There’s a little under 4700 words tucked under the read more. I’m sorry this is so late I restarted this several times and still wasn’t satisfied, and then I got sick. Anyway. Again, I’m sorry it’s late.~

B01-Nightwing

Dick loved the circus, he was taught by his mom and his aunt with his friends. John kept calling him squirt. His dad kept saying John’s attitude would keep him that height forever. The center pole was the second best place to be in the world, following the air. He was Robin. He was destined to fly.

And nothing was better than hearing the crowd’s oh’s and ah’s of the crowd as he flipped through the air and performed. Nothing beat that feeling, he was loved by his family and by the crowd. He wouldn’t give anything to change it, they weren’t rich in possession but they were rich where it mattered.

“Oh, do be careful, Robin.” Mary said loud enough for her voice to carry through the tent, she was watching her son on the trapeze with her brother in law. Dick waved down at her as John put an arm around her comfortingly.

“Come on Mary, Rich wouldn’t drop him.” John’s easy grin dropped for a second,”At least, I don’t think.”

Mary glared at him,”Don’t even joke about that Giovanni. He is little. I know you and your brother have some twisted sense of humor but if he drops our son I drop him. Understand?”

John looked nervous but nodded enthusiastically,”Yes, ma’am.”

Jack walked up beside his adopted son,”Did your wife just threaten to knock your brother out?”

“Yep,” John shot Jack a mischievous grin,” What a woman.”

“With any luck John, Dick won’t inherit Mary’s temper, or he’ll at least have your smile to hide it behind.”

Dick shot down the ladder into his dad’s arms,”Didya see? Was I good?”

John lifted his son up in front of him,”Amazing, spectacular. You might be the best out of us one day, Dick.”

Dick laughed and hugged his dad.

B02-Aqualad

Kaldur knew he was one of the best fighters in his rank, if not the best. Even his magic was weapons based. His water bearers could become sabers, a mace a sledge hammer. He was proud of the fact that he was elected leader of the team, Robin would have become a good leader but he was too young, not used to working in a group compared to working with Batman.

He was heartbroken when Tula died, and when Garth went back to Atlantis. Nightwing had barely finished his undercover mission, had barely started grieving for his brother. But Nightwing was ready to be the leader, Kaldur was going to step away but finding out that his father was Black Manta meant that he needed not just time to think but time didn’t grant him that. He decided to go undercover instead giving himself a polite amount of distance from the team but able to watch over them and see them work well under Nightwing, help the “chess pieces” move to their proper location.

B03-Kid Flash

He officially had the coolest uncle ever. Not only did he fight crime as a CSI, he was the Flash. How many people could say that. He had to be his uncle’s partner. Batman had Robin, and Green Arrow had Speedy the Flash needed a sidekick, and what better than his nephew?

What’s the worst that could happen, he was a chemistry genius, and had access to all the chemicals and his uncles meticulous notes. He could recreate the experiment and then Uncle Barry would have to take him on, he’d have super powers too.

B04-Superboy

Connor loved the farm. He could lay in the sun for hours. He couldn’t fly, but it wasn’t that great and Clark wouldn’t admit it but Connor was capable of beating him. He didn’t want to be Superman anymore, and he couldn’t be a normal guy, constantly looking 16. He only looked like Clark from a distance as well. He couldn’t be Superman.

Connor liked not having to worry about missions of helping his parents around the farm,”Pa? Anything else you’d like me to do before I head back to Happy Harbor?”

“No, just enjoy yourself and give Megan a kiss from me and your ma.”

Connor laughed,”Will do. She’ll want to stop by to cook for you guys and get some more recipes from Ma.”

“She’s always welcomed.”

B05-Miss Martian

She didn’t understand what Connor’s issue was, they were bad guys. They had made their decision to be bad and they needed the information for the mission. It didn’t matter.

Connor wasn’t going to tell she had faith in him, if they had all the information Troia would be here, Jason and Tula would be alive and Garth and Kaldur wouldn’t have left the team.

She didn’t like what she was doing but she was doing it for the betterment of the world, doing the hard work to make the defensive look in Nightwing’s eyes to disappear. She’d be willing to lose some sleep to make sure they all lived to see another day. She’d be willing to compromise her ideals to help the team, it was worth it for them.

B06-Red Arrow

Roy liked the kid, he was hilarious. The jokes were stupid but the timing was impeccable. Gotham sucked ass and he was definantly going to kill Oliver for leaving him here even if it was for a day, why did Gotham’s arsonist have to fly. Robin was sitting next to him, surrounded by smoldering debris, giggling,”Cash is going to lose his mind.”

“Why?” Roy said pulling Robin to his feet.

The police car turned the corner and a man emerged from the cop car,”Why does our arsonist have to fly?“

“Because Gotham hates you, Cash.”

“Robin, any idea where he or Batman went?”

“No, Lynns bolted and Bats went after him. Our plan kinda went up in flames.” Roy snorted as Robin was staring at Cash with a shit eating grin, and Cash looked like he’d rather be dealing with Batman himself instead of the sidekicks.

B07-Artemis

Artemis belonged on the team, she didn’t care what Roy said. He was barely even there most of the time. He did not get to say what she was capable of or what her place on the team actually was. She spent her whole life fighting, fighting Jade, her father, the bad guys before she joined the team and the new bad guys with the team and Green Arrow. She belonged on this team she earned her damn spot, she wasn’t going to let some pompous brat who wore tights and a Robin Hood hat tell her that she didn’t belong. She got enough  of that crap at school without  him weighing in.

Her Dad couldn’t be more wrong the rest  of the team liked her, who cared what Wally thought she sure as hell didn’t. He was  just mad that she apparently scared off Red Arrow but if his masculinity was so fragile that he couldn’t handle a girl taking the place of the archer on the team, he wouldn’t be able to handle being a hero. She couldn’t understand what her sister saw in Roy he was a stubborn hardass, but then again Jade was most likely certifiable.

The team didn’t care who she was related to in the long term. Right?

B08-Zatanna

Zatanna missed her father, there was no other way of putting it. She wanted her dad back. There was that British Warlock that she met while traveling that said there might have been a way to get the Helmet of Fate. She didn’t give up on saving him when she found out what removing the helmet from her father would entail, she just accepted that maybe she couldn’t. Constantine was right most of the time but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

She didn’t know why Dick wanted to stay with the team even though they were all offered spots on the Justice League. But then again people rarely knew what ran through a Bat’s brain. She decided to join the league because she didn’t want to operate from the shadows forever, she wanted to be able to help more people then she could on the team. She’d always have a soft spot for the team and would be willing to help in whatever manner they needed. But a physical glamour charm was a strange request who wore a mask or sunglasses so much she almost forgot that he had blue eyes.

B09-Rocket

Amistad loved Lian, he was a little upset that he was no longer the baby, but he took to being Lian’s “big brother” quite well.

He was often seen trying to make Lian smile, or trying to be helpful around the Watchtower. He was only three years old and kept trying to help Batman fix the tech around the tower. The team adored the unofficial team mascots and protected them.

Hell their babysitter was basically a guarantee that Deathstroke wouldn’t mess with them unless he was hired to and even then Jericho has some stories about what happens if you messed with someone under Deathstroke’s protection.

B10-Tempest

He couldn’t be there anymore, he had to leave. Nightwing And Troia left after Robin died. He got to leave, he needed to go back to Atlantis on find himself again away from the team, away from the surface. Away from everyone, even King Orin and Queen Mera.

The woman he loved died, sacrificed herself to save the world. He got to be angry about that, because if he wasn’t where would he be? Like Nightwing who went disappeared for a year and then never got closer because he’d come back and Robin had been replaced? Troia who ran back to Themyscira after Jason died and wasn’t coming back? He was going to rejoin the team, he just needed a little time to himself and that wasn’t such a bad thing.

B11-Aquagirl

Tula understood why Kaldur loved the surface world and the people who dwelled on it, they were resilient and capable of so much on their own. Curious as well. The little Robin would stare when she, Garth and Kaldur would use their water magic, utterly fascinated with how it worked.

Tula never regretted joining the team, learning about the world, the culture, the different types of magic. She was the most talented in that aspect out of the three of them and studying surface world magic helped grow her abilities.

Queen Mera was often adamant that all stories of the gods had grains of truth within them and you had to be able to divine the truth from fiction, from hyperbole. This story about the alien Tiamat and the Babylonian demigod Marduk was interesting but it felt like something was missing, the fact that Marduk was introduced to the pantheon of gods posthumously promoted more research. She would ask John Constantine or the Lord of Order, Nabu, about it.

B12-Troia

Troia couldn’t handle being on the team after Robin died. Before then it felt like a game, in the back of her mind she knew it wasn’t but after seeing Jason’s body the gravity of what they did, what they were doing became much more real and all she wanted to do was go home to her mom. She loved Jason as if he was her own flesh and blood, she was his big sister and Dick was her best friend. She felt awful about leaving him but she couldn’t work above a memorial to her baby, she knew Dick understood when he left as well.

When she returned to Themyscira she practically threw herself back into her mother’s arms crying about him. Diana talked about humans being good and just. Where was the goodness in that? The justness? The man that killed him could barely be called a man. Jason was a child, he didn’t deserve that.

B13-Robin II

Jason hated the pitying and distrustful looks from the league and the team. They weren’t from Gotham, none of them have been the little guy, no one had know what he’d seen. Batman didn’t live in Gotham he spent the day in his mansion, Superman was a pompous goody two shoes from Kansas, he wouldn’t know how to Gotham. Crime Alley, Jason did. He stole the wheels of the Batmobile. He survived Crime Alley by himself for years before Bruce came along, he just had his wits, no armour, no training from around the world, no tech, just him. Jason did just fine without anyone. He didn’t need the team, or Nightwing, or Batman, you can’t count on anybody.

“Jason, you can do better. Dick does this easily. He doesn’t need to hit as hard.” Bruce said watching Jason hit the mannequin hard enough to snap bone.

“I’m not him, Okay!” Jason said snapped at Bruce,”I’ve done pretty well by myself, I sure as hell don’t need you to tell me what I am doing wrong.”

Jason stormed out of the Batcave and hunkered down against the wind, it was a long walk back to Gotham. He couldn’t be there anymore, the manor wasn’t his home.

B14-Lieutenant Marvel

It was odd being able to walk again. Especially knowing the cost, his grandfather comatose, and him a superhero. He got along well with Billy, the guy was his best friend but god was this stressful.

He didn’t want to worry about coming home alive every time he went on a mission maybe Billy thought he was indestructible and that was well and good but Freddy has had his back broken and been helpless and he doesn’t want to go back to that ever.

B15-Sergeant Marvel

She didn’t get why Billy liked this, it was dangerous and scary and she didn’t like the fact that there was the chance that one of them wouldn’t come home. She was 13 she couldn’t handle the responsibility of the team on her shoulders.

She hated abandoning the team but she wanted to come back when she was older, more responsible, more capable of losing someone. According to the young Robin, he was her age, how cool was that? Anyway she was getting side tracked, he said that losing people didn’t get easier. It didn’t matter if you were 7 and it was your mom or if you were an adult and lost your friend. Losing people sucked and Mary wasn’t prepared for that.

B16-Batgirl

Barbara knew that her dad didn’t necessarily approve of her being on the team, but after realizing grounding her wasn’t going to work, he decided that Batman did a nice job of protecting her since she started. He still thought that dating Dick was the dumbest thing she could do, but he wasn’t home half the time and she was an adult.

She was still mad at Dick for lying to her about Artemis, about Kaldur. What she didn’t expect was for Dick to drunk dial her secure line from his phone and explain everything. That he was going to go back undercover, fake his death let Azrael be Batman for a bit, help Kaldur, keep Artemis and Wally out of it. She was supposed to be his contact. Artemis decided to go after knocking some sense into him.

”She, she said it’d be less painful. We couldn’t lose another-” Dick already sounded near tears as his breath hitched but his voice now made Barbara’s heart clench,”Jason. We couldn’t lose a bat. She’d retired it wouldn’t be as painful for the new members, and Tim he’d be alone. No Robins.”

His voice sounded like cracking ice,”You should delete my number. I understand if you never want to see me again.”

Barbara didn’t delete his number but stopped by his apartment and unlocked the door, coughing reflexively from the dust that had gathered over the 6 months that he was Batman, Nightwing and team leader. She didn’t stay very long but rearranged his photos so the photo of Catherine was no longer next to the Graysons but next to Jason like she was looking at him, the photo of her and her dad was switched with the photo of a blonde boy with a mass of curly hair and an Asian girl with silver hair with their arms around Dick smiling.

B17-Bumblebee

One of her best friends was superhero. That was so cool. And she got offered an internship under Dr. Raymond Palmer! The Atom! She would get to be a superhero and study under one of the best minds in molecular physics. She was so excited. She couldn’t wait. But for a superhero uniform, like that Nightwing guy said, go with your gut. It’s usually right.

Bumblebee wasn’t a bad idea, she’d been playing with the idea since Dr. Palmer offered to teach her. Wings, the independent mobility would help when she was smaller. The energy pulses or “stingers” could be used offensively and being able to shrink would help with espionage like the team was meant to do.

B18-Lagoon Boy

La'gaan didn’t know how to feel on the team, he was the only Atlantean on the team. Kaldur left, he was a regular fish out of water. He needed to prove himself. Show them that he was better than Kaldur, not a replacement. Especially Miss Martian. She was really pretty, and had a nice laugh.

The more time La’gaan spent on the surface world the more he felt out of place. He couldn’t spend time with the team without hiding how he looked he didn’t blend in as easily as Kaldur did or was able to shapeshift like Miss Martian or Garfield could. He just was there, and it was trying hard to find his place on his team besides just the water guy.

B19-Beast Boy

M’gann was really upset about something and she wasn’t talking to him about it. Maybe it was something to do with getting kidnapped by Deathstroke and he was a lot scarier than Sportsmaster. La'gaan said he was a lot faster than Sportsmaster and stronger too. When M’gann got kidnapped and La’gaan broke his leg. Lagaan said that Deathstroke said something more chilling then Sportsmaster ever could,”Now I hate to see any poor animal in pain, but you aren’t on the Light’s list. How about a little anesthetic for the pain?”

Nightwing, Dick, said he was lucky to be alive and to just have a broken leg with a few bruises. La’gaan kept arguing with Nightwing about going to save M’gann, while Nightwing remained adamant about doing things his way, Gar couldn’t help but to agree with La’gaan, that was his sister, and he needed to get her back safely.

B20-Robin III

Nightwing and Robin were gone, Jason died. Tim knew that much, it was all over the news. Bruce Wayne’s ward Jason Todd murdered in Ethiopia by the Joker. Nightwing stopped patrol with Batman after that and Dick stopped going outside, stopped being seen around Gotham altogether. People at Gotham Academy said that he had a mental breakdown or tried to kill himself. Tim knew better, knew that Nightwing, Dick, left for a reason he wouldn’t just abandon Batman.

So Tim waited for months but he watched as Batman began to deteriorate. Read the stories about the criminals begging to be takening straight to Blackgate just don’t let Batman get at them. Then Tim had to act, Batman was going to kill someone or get himself killed. So Tim broke into the batcave, and offered to make himself Robin, he was denied. Then he followed Batman in a homemade Robin costume, telling Batman he needed a Robin and Tim was willing to fill that role for the time being, just until Nightwing came back.

B21-Wonder Girl

She was on the team! How cool was that! Nightwing was her boss, and he was so nice. A little sad and guilty but really nice. Anyway, back to the real point, she was related to Wonder woman, not like cousins or her mom married Wonder Woman’s brother or something. Her dad was Zeus, making her Wonder Woman’s little sister.

Kiran was going to be so jealous when she heard about it. She got to fight bad guys while her mother explored ruins. She met Superman. This is officially the best day ever. And Batgirl. The Batgirl, the only way this could get any better is if she met Robin. The first sidekick, the best one in her opinion.

B22-Blue Beetle III

Jaime thought the team was so cool, real live super heroes to help him use his powers. He was a little disappointed that he didn’t have someone familiar with the scarab like the previous Blue Beetle.

Everyone on the team was really nice but it felt like the senior members where hiding something. Besides the whole secret identity thing. Khaji Da said that you could tell what people were hiding by cold reading them but to Jaime that seemed like a bigger invasion of privacy then having an annoying bug trapped to your spine. “Jaime Reyes, our partnership can be seen as symbiotic.”

“Yes, because I have an annoying little voice second guessing my every move.”

“I do not second guess, I analyze and offer alternative courses of action. Take another look at the Red Arrow and the Nightwing. They seem to be arguing something.”

Nightwing seemed to be switching apathy and frustration, Red Arrow seemed to be concerned and had Nightwing sort of boxed in, he wasn't touching the younger vigilante but he wasn’t letting him escape either. Nightwing eventually pushed Red Arrow away from him, and Jaime caught the last part of the conversation,”I feel bad because of what I did not who it was done too. Batman should have left it alone, it’s my guilty conscience not his.”

B23-Impulse/Kid Flash II

It was terrible, the future, having to scavenge for parts, for food. One of the reasons he talked so much was because the two men that he worked with bordered nonverbal. The blonde was mute due to the large scar that crossed his throat, the one who wore a helmet would speak but hated to show his face so he wore a mask of poly-carbonate. They were built by the Hood when he saw that Bart was having trouble using his speed, so he based them off Kid Flash’s old lenses. Bart was going to go back to the past before the Reach invaded to prevent this future, his grandfather dying started this whole mess. If he saved Barry Allen he saved the world. Neutron was the chronal expert in the operation. The Hood was the engineer and tactician. The mute guy was the best scavenger and could find out any information you wanted, no one knew how or wanted to know how.

Hood looked up from the meal he scavenged for Bart,”You sure about this, kid? If what Nathaniel says is true. You won’t be coming back. If you are successful this time line will cease.”

The mute came back carrying the pieces of what’s going to be the time machine’s energy source, and looked at Bart expectantly,”I’m fine with it. This really isn’t a future worth coming back to.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Hood let out a hysterical laugh,”Hey, Jericho you got some blood on your collar.”

The mute made some motions with his hands, the Hood’s tone was mocking,”Oh, it’s not yours. That’s reassuring. Well it was a pleasure working with ya.”

Jericho motioned to Hood, his version of agreeing, Bart shook their hands,”May we meet again in the past. In the future and the life after that.”

B24-Guardian

Mal finally understood what Nightwing meant. The rush, the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the feeling that you were doing good. It was addicting.

When he first joined the team he wasn’t wearing the Guardian helm, he helped Nightwing run missions and coordinate communications between the team members. Finding out that the guy with the big blue bird on his chest was the first Robin, the first sidekick. The reason there was a team.

If it wasn’t for him who knew what would have happened, the team might not have existed. Connor might not have come to Rhode Island, he wouldn’t know about M’gann. He may not have been still together with Karen.

Mal didn’t have many regrets since he met Connor and M’gann but one of them was not picking up a suit sooner.

B25-Arsenal

The audacity of Nightwing to kick him off the team after he rescued everybody. He's just so infuriating, he belonged on that team his clone was placed n that team. He earned his spot, more than the rogue Blue Beetle did, or the time traveler impulse. Where did Nightwing get the authority of telling him what to do? He was just one of Batman’s apprentices. Hell Robin had been in the game longer then he had, and yet there he was differing to him, like NIghtwing was the alpha dog.

“I can’t believe him.” Arsenal said storming into Red arrow’s apartment.

“Can’t believe who?” Red Arrow looked up from holding Lian in a Nightwing onesie, Arsenal could not escape the guy. What made him so great anyway?

“Nightwing, he kicked me off the team.”

Red Arrow sighed,”What happened?”

“Blue Beetle turned on us so I opened the airlock, and he started to take us out. Superboy provided a distraction so I could escape.” Arsenal sat down on the couch as Red shifted Lian so she was laying on his chest,”What’s his deal anyway? He seems to have it out for me after we went to Smallville.”

Roy pursed his lips,”Was Robin in any danger on the Warworld? In Smallville?”

“No, I had it under control.” Arsenal said crossing his arm.

Roy rolled his eyes at the moody teenager on his couch, he knew why Nightwing kicked him off the team. He didn’t want to get Tim killed like Jason, even though the only person you could blame for Jason’s death was the Joker, ”Nightwing’s brother died. He blames himself. He doesn’t let Robin be put in danger and when he is, he’ll remove that threat or protect Robin anyway possible.”

“Robin’s been around for 10 years, he can handle himself. Nightwing doesn't need to interfere.”

“Nightwing’s nineteen and buried his brother before he could vote, hell the Robin you know is the third one. Nightwing was the first. Part of him will always be that scared little kid, he didn’t mean any harm by it. He's trying to protect his family.”

“I didn’t know.” Arsenal said, feeling a little sorry.

“Most people don’t. They think there were only two, and it’s gotten to the point where it’s easier for Nightwing not to mention the second one. He’ll come around just let him mellow out.”

B26-Static

Virgil joined the team because what else would he do with his powers. Black Lightning offered to train him and he was excited about that. This team was full of skilled people who would have his back at the expense of him having theirs.

He liked the team, sure he was a little bristly toward Nightwing after he fired Arsenal but he hung out with the older vigilante and he was always willing to give advice or training, and Arsenal said he was Robin, the first Robin. How cool was that?

“Hey Nightwing?” Nightwing looked up from his tablet and Nightwing did not look thrilled at what was going on on the screen,”Oh am I bugging you?”

“Nah just discussing how to best piss off an assassin, what’s up?” Nightwing said turning the tablet off.

“You think you could teach me how to fight?” Virgil saw how Nightwing fought he had a lot of skills, and if he was Robin he was used to fighting people bigger and more dangerous than him.

“Of course, lesson 1. There is no dirty tricks.” Nightwing stood up and stretched,”Lesson 2 and Robin taught me this, if someone is bigger than you hit fast. You hit hard. Then run as far away as you can.”

“Wait, Robin who’s dating Cassie?”

Nightwing’s easygoing grin faltered, but then he shrugged,”Could have been Troia, black hair pain in my side. Who knows?”

#yjsecretsanta #young justice #Nightwing #hes in most #my writing #fanfiction #secret santa #gifts #fan fic #Roy harper #dick grayson

[modern-victoria]

As swift as this is love

Chapter eleven of my Quakerider fantasy au.

read it on ao3.

 Their horses trotted next to each other, the sounds of their hooves hitting the ground matching. Daisy was admiring the scenery around her, although it was autumn and the leaves were turning a reddish-brown, the forest was still vibrant in colors. The ground matched the yellowish colours of the foliage above her, contrasting starkly with the blue of the sky. Next to her, Robbie was staring absentmindedly in front of him. She sometimes forgot that he too, had to marry a stranger. He didn’t even have the comfort of his own home like she had. She couldn’t imagine being thrown into an unknown environment surrounded by strangers and being forced to like them. She obviously got the better end of the deal.

 “I’m sorry for how I reacted last time.” She said quietly. He turned to look at her, but stayed silent.

 “I didn’t have to let all my anger out on you. I- I just didn’t-” She huffed in annoyment. Daisy couldn’t find the right words to let him know what went through her head that evening.

 His eyes softened, and he brushed her knee with his gloved hand, telling her he understood. She nodded and looked back in front of her, the road centered between her horse’s ears.

 A little while later they arrived at a small clearing. The King’s guards arrived as first ones in the open space, but Captain Mace soon motioned everyone to stop with a quick movement of his right hand. He dismounted his horse and moved further into the clearing, followed by two other guards. At the commotion, King Phillip got off his horse too and went to see what had startled his guards.

 “Oh my, what happened?” he breathed out.

 Daisy heard the sadness breaking her father’s voice, and jumped off her horse, striding over to her father.

 “What is it, father?” She asked, but as she turned to look at what her father was staring at, she stumbled backwards in shock.

 “No,” Captain Mace shouted, “Your Highness shouldn’t see this!” He took Daisy by her shoulders and pushed her away, but Daisy shook him off as Robbie moved towards her.

 “Who did this?” She asked, but she knew the answer.

 “Hydra.” Robbie confirmed her suspicions.

 “This is wrong,” She said, as she took in the bloody carnage that laid in front of them.

 “Your majesty,” Captain Mace began to the king, “It isn’t safe for you here, we need to get you back to the safety of the palace.”

 Daisy’s eyes roved over the mass of limp bodies rotting in front of her. Their faces were unrecognisable due to grime and blood smudged onto them, their clothing were charred and bloody too. Some of them missed a limb, others a head. Daisy’s stomach already churned at the sight, but then she got a whiff of the smell and she ran towards the treeline, emptying her stomach of all its content. Robbie stood at her side in seconds, holding her hair out of her face. When she was done, he pulled her away of the clearing. Daisy’s eyes flitted across his face, and she swore that for a few seconds, she saw his eyes glowing red, but she blamed her shock.

 She mounted her horse, and everyone followed.

 “When we’re back at the palace, send some men to give those people a proper burial,” the King ordered one of his guards. He stared sadly at the pile of bodies before urging Lola to a trot.  

 Daisy pushed her heels in her horse’s flanks, but she found the movement took too much effort for her sudden tired body. A shiver tore through her body noticeably, but Daisy didn’t say anything. She kept staring straight ahead and it wasn’t until she felt something being slipped onto her shoulders that she moved her head and saw Robbie trying to put his long leather jacket around her. She looked at him and he urged her to pull the jacket around her, so she did. His black jacket smelled of leather, sweat and, well, Robbie, and Daisy exhaled all the air left in her lungs before breathing in the jacket’s smell as if to purge her body of the horrid stench of death.

 The ride back felt much longer. A heaviness had settled onto the group who stayed silent the whole way back to the palace, except for Duke Eli and her father, who were silently conversing, but the words didn’t reach Daisy’s ears. She only heard a muted buzzing. She didn’t notice the sun filtering through the canopy anymore, nor did she see the small birds chirping as if there hadn’t been a tragedy in these woods.

 When they arrived in the courtyard, King Phillip dismounted his horse with such swiftness and grace, he appeared twenty years younger, but the hard lines on his face proved the contrary. He handed the reins over to Mack, who had ran out of the stables at the sudden commotion in the courtyard. Daisy was watching her father absentmindedly, until she saw the vast determination that had settled on his face. She jumped from her horse, led it to Mack and set off after her father. Captain Mace was a few steps in front of her, but they both had difficulties with keeping up with the long strides of her father, the king. She noted two pairs of footsteps following her and whipped her head backwards to see Duke Eli and Robbie behind her. Duke Eli seemed annoyed, not at all fazed by the scene they had just witnessed. Robbie wore a grim expression, but after locking eyes with her, he sped up his pace to step next to Daisy. King Phillip was navigating the corridors of his palace with ease and determination, and after a moment Daisy knew where her father was going. She felt hope surge inside her again.

 King Phillip opened the heavy wooden door of the military chamber abruptly and stumbled upon the war engineer speaking with Gabe. Daisy and Robbie stepped into the chamber, which held a massive marble table in the center on which a map of Kingdom of Zephyr and its’ neighbouring kingdoms had been drawn centuries ago. Both Gabe and the engineer looked startled at the people who had just entered the room, before bowing to the king and his daughter. Robbie walked over to his brother and traced the new chair he was seated in. Instead of small wheels underneath a wooden chair, the seat was bigger and had a pair of large wheels in the back and a pair of small ones in the front. The wheels were still wooden, but now there was a thin sheet of spiked metal plated on the outside of the wheels to keep the wood from wearing out. A metal handle had been fixed onto the back of the seat to facilitate pushing it around.

 “Fitz made me a new wheelchair.”

 “I can see that.” Robbie said as he turned to the engineer, called Fitz apparently. “Thank you.”

 “Well, it’s no problem really,” He said with an accent, “Anything for a friend of a friend.” He looked at Daisy and grinned. She replied with a smile and Robbie felt a surge of jealousy rise up, but he quickly pushed it down and told himself he didn’t care. Gabe was eyeing his brother suspiciously, demanding Robbie’s attention. When they were looking at each other, Gabe’s eyes snapped to Daisy and then back to Robbie, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Robbie didn’t understand what he meant at first, but then he saw Daisy was still wearing his jacket, her arms now slid into the arms of his jacket. The jacket hung loosely on her shoulders and her hands weren’t visible, it was much too big for her. Robbie found it endearing and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Gabe smirked at his brother and Robbie glared at him in return, daring him to say anything.

 The king, unaware of what had just transpired between the two brothers, started: “Daisy, maybe it’s best if you and Gabe leave. War isn’t meant for you.”

 “I’m staying.” Daisy clenched her jaw and stood defiantly.

 “Fine,” the king sighed, “Fitz, show me where the last known Hydra camps are.”

 Fitz hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should speak when the princess was still there, but after looking at the king’s impatient expression, he launched himself at the war table and started pointing at certain locations.

 “Last known location of a Hydra camp was south of the Afterlife mountains,” he said as he circled the area on the map with his hands.

 “If we know where they are, why not attack?” Daisy inquired.

 “It’s not that easy.” Fitz shook his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. “If we know where they are, we can keep an eye on them until we have enough men to attack them at once. If we would attack their camp now, they would just flee into the Afterlife mountains and we would lose them.”

 Daisy stayed silent, nodding slightly.

 “Any other locations?” The King stepped closer to the table.

 “There has been a raid in a village west of Darkhold Castle.” He turned to Duke Eli and he defended himself immediately.

 “My men were on that, but they lost them in the woods. A lot of my men lost their lives.” He leaned onto the table, his eyebrows knitted together in anger.

 “A lot of good men lost their lives to save the kingdom,” the king said, thinking Eli’s anger was for the people he’d lost, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Duke Eli watched the hand on his shoulder and clenched his jaw, nodding his head curtly in thanks.

 “There’s another camp east of Lake Maveth, but it’s hidden inside the canyons surrounding the lake. We don’t know the exact location, but we think it's their main base. No scout has gone to their camp and returned alive.”

 “Nor dead,” Fitz added as an afterthought.

 “They were sending us a message. They slaughtered those people to send us a message.” King Phillip said angrily. “We need to stop them!”

 “Surely you don’t want to do anything too brusquely.” Duke Eli tried to persuade the king. “What about the ball we’re hosting in a month?”

 “How can we hold a ball when our people are suffering?” The king muttered, turning to look at his daughter. Daisy huffed in relief, smiling despite herself.

 “To show them we’re not afraid!” Duke Eli shouted. “We made an arrangement, your majesty.”

 “We’ll show them we’re not afraid by stopping them.”

 “The people need to see the prince,” He said, “and the princess, off course.”

 “Duke Eli, I-”

 “No father,” Daisy stepped in, resting a hand on her father’s arm, “We’ll still be hosting a ball. No plans have changed.”

 “They won’t expect us,” Robbie added and moved next to Daisy, his arm brushing hers.

 “Fine,” Eli grumbled as he left the room, ‘I’ll tell my men.”

 “But how do we stop Hydra?” Gabe asked when his uncle was completely gone.

 “We could draw them out?” Robbie offered.

 “But how?” The King asked.

 “If they sent us a message, they’ll clearly want to do it again,” Daisy said.

 “I don’t follow.” Fitz shook his head.

 “A convoy with someone special in it, maybe?”

 “It’s too risky to send the king, and it wouldn’t make sense for him to leave the palace,” Fitz rebutted.

 “What about a princess visiting her husband’s home?”

 “Daisy, no!”

 “No way!”

 Her father and Robbie simultaneously shot down her proposition. Daisy glared at them both.

 “I can handle myself,” she said as he crossed her arms. Her father shook his head to reprimand her, but Robbie spoke first.

 “I don’t doubt you can, but I- we- the people can’t lose you.”

 “If I may,” Fitz began, “You may be onto something, your highness.”

 “We won’t send her as bait!”

 “She doesn’t really need to be inside. Hydra only needs to think so. Her reason to leave the palace is pretty valid.”

 “What if there are spies?”

 Everyone turned to Gabe.

 “Spies?” The king repeated.

 “Yes, your majesty, everyone has some, right?”

 “They’ll know she’s not inside,” Robbie said.

 “Not if everyone sees the princess entering a carriage. Doesn’t mean it has to be her highness.”

 “You want to send someone else in my place?”

 “She’d be protected, off course.”

 “But you said so yourself, it would be too dangerous and you want to send a poor girl in my place?”

 “It’s too dangerous for a princess, when they see she’s but a commoner, they’ll leave her alone.” Her father tried to sooth her.

 “Like they left the people in the woods alone?” She snapped back.

 “Daisy, she’ll be protected by an armed convoy.”

 Daisy knew her father wouldn’t change his mind on this matter, so she didn’t continue the subject. Instead she left the room, they would always see her as a princess, not the warrior she knew she was. Robbie followed her out, his gloved hand clutching her leather-clad arm.

 “I’ll be there, and I’ll protect her, Daisy.”

 She searched his eyes, a small part of her looking for the fire she saw earlier, but instead she only saw deep brown eyes filled with tenderness. She slipped out of his jacket and placed it in his hands. She left after brushing his arm with her hand.

 “I know you will,” she whispered to the air.

Chapter ten - Chapter twelve

#quakerider #robbie x daisy #Daisy Johnson #Robbie Reyes #myfic #agents of shield

[ccrriissuuuswritings]

Evil isn’t born, it’s made

Fandom: Star Wars

Chapter/ One-shot: One-shot

Characters: Reader x Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda

Words: 1679

Warnings: Pregnant reader

A/N: Tell me if you want a part 2 for this, I may have some ideas but I’m not sure if you guys want another part :)

It was Master Qui-Gon Jinn’s funeral. He had been killed by a Sith-lord, who then had been killed by Qui-Gon’s padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You were one year younger than Obi-Wan but you had been a Jedi-knight for a year already. The council had seen your potential and gave you permission to begin your trials, which you had easily passed. You knew that Obi-Wan blamed himself for Qui-Gon’s death. You still hadn’t have the chance to talk with him so you waited that everyone started to leave.

“Obi-Wan” you spoke softly when you got up to him. He turned around to look at you. “I’m sorry for your loss” you continued and you smiled softly at him. Obi-Wan let out a breath before he smiled back at you.

“Thank you” he said. You looked over at the boy, Anakin Skywalker, who Qui-Gon had found on Tatooine. He was talking with the queen of Naboo, Padmé Amidala.

“What is going to happen with him?” you asked Obi-Wan.

“The council gave me permission to train him, he is to become my padawan learner” Obi-Wan told you and you nodded.

“Good, I sense that he will become a great Jedi knight one day” you reassured him and he smiled at you.

*Back at the Jedi temple on Coruscant*

You, and a few other Jedi had been assigned to analyze the battle between the Sith lord and the two Jedi. As you were watching you realised that there was something familiar with the Sith lord. It took you a moment before you realised it was the Zabrak, who called himself Maul, who you had had an one night stand with when you had been on a mission six weeks ago. Suddenly you felt really sick and disgusted about everything. You didn’t understand how you had missed the fact that he had been a Sith lord.

“[Y/N], are you okay” your fellow analyzer and former Master, Mace Windu asked you when he sensed the change in your feelings.

“Yes, I just don’t understand how we could have missed that the Sith has always been there” you quickly lied to him. Mace squinted his eyes, knowing that you weren’t telling him the truth but he didn’t ask more about it. As you continued to watch you felt your stomach knot and when you came to the part where Obi-Wan slashed Maul in half you had to run to the toilets to throw up. Afterwards you just sat there on the floor, still confused about what you just had realised. After a while you stood up and decided to head to your small apartment so that you could get some sleep but when you stepped out from the toilet you got stopped by your former master.

“[Y/N], what is going on?” he asked you.

“Nothing, I was just feeling sick” you tried to shrug it of.

“I know you better than that, I know when you’re lying. Just tell me the truth” Mace demanded and you sighed before you looked around, trying to figure out a way to get off this situation. Suddenly you felt sick again and you quickly ran back to the toilet to throw up, this time you didn’t know why it happened. You washed your face and hands before you stepped back out again.

“Go to the medical bay” Mace commanded and you nodded. You bowed to him before you headed to the medical bay.

“It looks like you are pregnant, Master [Y/L/N]” the medical droid told you. You looked at the droid, not believing what it was telling you.

“I’m what?” you asked quietly.

“I need to do an ultrasound to confirm it. Please, lay down” the droid continued and you did as it told you to do. The gel felt cold against your stomach and you looked at the screen as the droid moved the transducer around.

“No, this can’t be” you whispered when you saw that the image on the screen showed a fetus.

“Congratulations, you are with child” the droid said. You sat up and sighed.

“How long can I keep this a secret?” you asked the droid.

“For about three or four months, then it will start to show” the droid explained and you nodded.

“And how often do I have to come for a check?” you asked.

“Come in at least once a month. Do you know who the father is?” the droid took up it’s datapad but you put your hand on it.

“I would like to keep this off the records” you said sternly.

“Yes, I understand, Master [Y/L/N]” the droid answer and put the datapad away.

Two months after you got it confirmed that you were pregnant, you decided to tell your old Master about your pregnancy. You knew that he wouldn’t approve it and that you would be expelled from the Jedi order but you had decided to keep the baby, after all, evil isn’t born, it’s made. Mace was holding a lecture about the different kinds of combat forms to a group of younglings. You quietly snuck into the classroom and waited in the back for the lecture to end. It didn’t take long for the hologram to turn off and the light turn on and then the class ended.

“See you tomorrow, younglings” Mace said as they all stood up and begun walking out. They all bowed to you when they noticed you and you bowed back to them. You walked up to the front of the room.

“[Y/N], what can I do for you today?” Mace asked you when you got up to him. You bowed as a greeting to him.

“I have something to tell you, Master Windu” you told him quietly. You hadn’t exactly planned how to tell him but you knew that the best way to tell your old Master was to tell him straight away. Your gaze shifted over to the holotable as you were thinking about how you should tell him. Mace looked at you, waiting for you to continue but because you didn’t he put his hand on your shoulder.

“[Y/N], is everything alright?” he spoke softly and you quickly looked over at him with a hint of fear in your eyes.

“I.. umm.. I’m pregnant” you blurted out and you clenched your jaw. You saw Mace furrow his eyebrows.

“[Y/N], you know it’s forbidden to have a relationship” he reminded you.

“I don’t.. It’s not from being in a relationship.. Remember when I was on that mission about three months ago on Gorse?” you asked him quietly. He nodded. “Yes”.

“On the last night I got myself drunk and then I met this one man and well, one thing led to another” you explained, talking as quietly as you could.

“I sense that there’s more to this than this” Mace said and you nodded.

“I didn’t know at the time who, or what he was, I got to know about it afterwards.” you paused and looked around you to insure there was no one else in the room.

“Go on”. You looked back at him and took a deep breath.

“Remember when we analyzed the battle on Naboo and I rushed to the toilets?” Mace nodded again. “Well it was the Sith lord..” you whispered out. Mace looked like he couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“Are you sure about this, [Y/N]?” You only nodded as an answer and you felt the tears in your eyes. Mace sighed and he turned around. “You have to take this up to the high council and tell them about this whole thing.” He turned around to look at you again and he saw the tears falling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, [Y/N].” You looked up at him and nodded. You bowed for him before you left the room. You went to the library to wait for the call about the time to meet the council. It didn’t take long before your comlink went of and you got the message to immediately meet with the council.

“Told us about your pregnancy, Master Windu has” Grand Master Yoda said when you entered the room. You quickly looked at Mace and he was looking at you sternly but with a hint of sadness and betrayal. “Expelling you from the order, the council has decided, unless you decide to not the baby keep” Yoda continued and you nodded. You wanted to cry but you took a deep breath and straightened your posture, you wanted to show that you were strong.

“I understand” you said looking at Yoda. “But I have decided to keep the baby” you continued. Mace looked down at the floor, a sign that he was disappointed. “This is my choice, I made a mistake. A mistake that might be the best mistake I have ever made. I want to keep this child.” you told the whole council and Mace looked up at you again and you looked at him before you continued. “You didn’t fail when you trained me, I couldn’t have had a better Master than you. It was an honor being your padawan and I thank you for all that you have taught me” you smiled. “But this is what faith has decided. The father of this child may have been a Sith lord but that doesn’t make the child evil. Evil isn’t born, it’s made”.

“Correct you are, young [Y/L/N]” Yoda said and you smiled softly.

“You must do what you see to be right” Mace said and you looked back at him again and nodded. You took your lightsaber in your hand and walked over to Mace.

“This is a Jedi’s weapon, I don’t have any use of it anymore” you said as you handed over your lightsaber to Mace. He hesitated a little before he took it from you. You bowed to him and moved back to the center of the room. You bowed again and said “May the force be with you, always” before you left the room.

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