Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

        It’s when the unexpected and foreign collides with the almost boring familiarity that something extraordinary appears. It’s no wonder, then, that dreams are often used as that bridge between the world pooling by our feet and that one too far and unreachable. Through sleep, one accesses a world beyond comprehension that seems to be built within the very walls of one’s own mind. Leaving it provides nothing but a strange feeling, as if one were shedding off a portion of one’s self.

        So when you shift in your drowsy state, beckoned awake by some unseen force calling for you to awaken, you think nothing of it. There’s a warmth hitting your face and your groggy mind manages to gather that it must be morning’s arrival that has shaken your spirit to rouse awake for yet another day. Though you’re sure you could remain in bed for just a little longer, a little part of you seems rather impatient to get up.

        It’s almost as if there’s a small part of you that wants you to open your eyes and peek at the surroundings around you. Despite knowing that it would be your room surrounding you, there’s a sense of foreboding that keeps you from drifting back into dreamland reassured. A small part of you seems to quiver inside of you and it’s clear that something is amiss.

        But what could be wrong?

        Blinking open your eyes, the sight of your room is expected, but it isn’t what greets you. Instead, the only thing you can make out most easily is the colour grey. Not the regular colour of it either, but some sort of metallic gray reflecting light that seems to glow in a way that’s different than how you remember light acting. 

        Sitting up, it’s as if all the blood drains from your body. It’s at this moment that your mind suddenly starts screaming at you. It crawls up your spine, chilling you from deep within your bones all the way to the tips of your fingers with a whisper of a voice you don’t recognize that tells you that you’re not here.

        But your senses beg to differ to this strange observation, showing you that you are indeed here. You can feel the softness of the mattress below you and the cloth of the blankets and sheets. You can breathe and smell metal and other scents you can’t quite place a name to. Not to mention, you felt the little warmth of the lights earlier from before you woke up. Clearly, you exist and are here in this place that cannot be just a dream. After all, you had woken up.

        So why did you feel so… different? So wrong and disconnected?

        Alarm begins to fill your body, and fueled by the sudden energy in you, your eyes begin scanning the room rather fervently for something— anything— that could explain where you are and what might’ve happened.

        But what you end up finding is nothing but yet another mystery.

        A pain takes hold of your body just as suddenly as you begin your search for an answer. Only after having scanned the room once with your still bleary eyes, you’re suddenly curling yourself into a ball, clutching your head within your hands. Hoping to suppress the pained groan that rises from your throat to your lips, you try coaxing yourself out of the dizzying spell of pain, but to no avail. You can feel the pain spreading through your body just as clearly as you felt it when it first appeared.

        From the little that you can gather from the dizzying sensation, it started in your head, wreaking havoc there for a little while as if working through a maddening dance until it drained down through your neck. Once it's reached your chest, it seems to take the opportunity and spread to the rest of your body. The control you had on your body’s writhing response is crumbling, and before you know it, tears are prickling at the corners of your eyes and a small whimper escapes your lips.

        Then, out of the blue, you feel a touch to your shoulder. It’s gentle and cautious, and looking over, you see a familiar face staring at you with eyes filled to the brim with concern. It only takes a few moments, even in your horribly pain filled state, to realise that the face looking at you is Qui Gon Jinn.

        …

        Qui Gon…

        Qui Gon…?

        You’re in Star Wars?

        When another inexplicable wave of pain crashes through your body, rattling you to your core, your thoughts are scrambled as if your brain has been fried. The pain from whatever demons running amok within you keeps you from dwelling any further, and because of that, you limit yourself to simply taking in the sight of the man that you can see and avoiding any other deep thoughts. Anything more, you fear, would just sap away your remaining energy and tire you out before being waved away by the profound pain anyway.

“What’s wrong, young one?” comes a voice that isn’t the one speaking to you in your mind. “Are you in pain?”

        You swear that your ragged breathing and the way your fingers dig into the cloth of your clothing should’ve been enough to show that yes, you are indeed in a lot of pain, but you suppose it might not be so obvious. Seeing as you can’t get a good hold on your breathing, you choose to nod when you find it too hard to say too much— or anything, for that matter.

        Qui Gon answers your motion with a furrow of his brows and you can barely feel his fingers tightening around your shoulder where his hand sits. You can see in his blue eyes the rampant swell of questions and concerns and everything in between, but all he does is press his lips together tightly.

“Where am I?” you force out, hearing your voice cracking under the immense weight of the pain, “what is this? What’s happening?”

        Despite all the pain, you couldn’t help but wonder about your situation. You can’t say that you’re used to the feeling of something terrible happening to your body now that you’ve been in this state for at least a few agonizing minutes, but perhaps you’re close to being familiar with it enough to at least speak.

        Though, judging by the situation, had you not been under such immense pain, you would have acted out much more carefully. After all, you are in another world now. One in which you never belonged in and probably never had some sort of place in to begin with. Maybe, you would have decided to attempt to play the part of whoever you currently are or whoever’s body you inhabit— since clearly you can’t be in yours. Not in this world at least— but you really are not in any sort of mood to be using any amount of energy for any level of acting. 

        At this rate, you just want the truth and to know what the hell is going on.

        But the only response you get is Qui Gon’s face contorting into something unreadable and you can only hope that it’s nothing bad.

“Well, this isn’t good.”

        …Spoke too soon.

        You open your mouth again to speak, but when another wave of pain spreads through your body from your head, you quickly clamp your jaws shut. Closing your eyes from what you can recognize as a foreign place within a foreign world, you try to at least trouble yourself with the growing worry inside of you. You’re no longer at home and the very thought sends an arrow of fear piercing through your heart. With your body already dealing with the strange pain, you consider and try to pause your thoughts, struggling to juggle both the overwhelming sensations of pain crashing through your body and the thoughts screaming at you to wake up from what you deeply wish to be a dream.

“It will be alright,” assures the same soft voice from before. 

        When you open your eyes again, you manage to look up to see Qui Gon staring back at you, but he doesn’t look all that reassuring. His jaw is set stiffly, as if he’s feeling some sort of pain as well. Could he be feeling your pain through the hand that’s still planted firmly against your shoulder? He blinks when you don’t respond verbally, only able to keep your eyes trained on his face, and he says nothing for a few moments. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say anymore?

“Would you rather sleep? It will pass the time faster for you and you won’t be in as much pain,” he offers, glancing his eyes upwards and looking past the door.

        You don’t bother to look towards the direction his eyes are wandering, choosing to let your gaze fall slightly so that you’re staring at his chest and not craning your head upwards to meet his eyes. In your weakened state, it’s less energy spent to stare downwards.

“That’d be nice,” you answer with a soft yet wheezing voice, barely managing a nod with your response. 

        You can see Qui Gon shifting in front of you before you see a hand being held up to your face. In your staring of the lines stretching over the skin of his palm, you begin to feel a weird feeling start tugging at your senses in a way you’ve never felt before. 

        No… Actually, you have felt this weird sensation that seems to tug at the will of your mind. It’s as if it tries to manipulate the way your mind works, and that’s the feeling that’s familiar to you. Even in the haze that’s shrouded your mind, you vaguely manage to link this feeling to the one that seemed to be whispering about your missing connection to this world.

“Sleep.”

        Before you can continue pondering the link between the voice and this feeling being brought onto you by Qui Gon, the command is finally given. His voice sounds heavy and filled with something you can’t really put a finger to, but know isn’t natural. It’s like it’s dripping with something, coating the commanding words with a power of some sort that you can actually feel somehow. You could very well try to ponder for a little longer on the weird feeling, but the sudden urge to sleep that starts to take over your mind dashes all hope for more thinking.

        Suddenly, you find it really hard to keep your eyes open and they start to close. Sleep comes easily, even as the pain continues to run rampant, and it feels like something is gently lulling you away into a dark and calm world, pressing with more gentle might each time without the impatience one might expect with such a forceful act. It definitely doesn’t feel very natural, but you’re glad you can finally do something other than just revelling in the painful, crashing waves.

        And so you allow the darkness behind your closed eyelids swallow you whole once again, just as you’d done when you last fell asleep in your own bed back at home.

Chapter Text

        When you wake up, a part of you restarts your waking thoughts with the reminder that you’re at home and in your bed. Your heart and your mind, whether or not it’s even the truth sitting past your closed eyes, wholeheartedly believes in these words. But it’s as if there’s a bitterness in this belief. It’s when you let your eyes open and wander the room you’re in that you feel both expected and unexpected disappointment fill your mind. Absolutely nothing looked personally familiar to you.

        The colour gray and screens and monitors are abundant all around you. There are a few ascending steps rising up to a doorway, probably leading outside, but besides that, there isn’t much in the room with you. The few things that are here seem to be here out of necessity rather than choice. After a little longer of staring at your surroundings, you notice that your bed is high off the ground and that you’re lying down atop it. It isn’t completely parallel to the ground though. It seems that your upper body is angled upwards, positioning you in a way that’s between laying down and sitting up.

        psh. thnk

        What you think at first to be air being released from a tube, or something, turns out to be the door you’d noticed earlier. Of course, the sound pulls your attention away from the boring room so your eyes immediately shift to the doorway. Within moments, a figure you don’t recognise walks through. She does look slightly familiar, however, sporting an appearance not exactly normal in your standards. 

        A twi’lek. That’s what she is, and an older one at that.

        At the thought of that, you’re flooded with that empty feeling of disconnection again. But why could you be feeling this way? Could it be because you’re not at home nor are you even in th e right world? You can only assume that it’s because you’re someplace else that this feeling has sprouted from within you. Now that you're seeing a twi’lek with your own eyes, your suspicions have some foundation to root themselves within. Well, only the suspicions of being in the Star Wars universe, that is. Not so much about why or what this disconnected feeling is all about.

        Just what have you fallen into? How did you even get here? Is this even possible? Or is this a dream? You move your hand to pinch yourself underneath the cover without letting your eyes leave the twi’lek. You feel the pain from the pinch spread and frown subtly. Going off the established and accepted laws of a dreamscape, you should have woken up by now. Then again, you did fall asleep earlier, meaning that you must’ve been awake prior, so what was going on?

        Is any of this even real? 

        What’s going to happen now?

        Your thoughts prattle on, but when the door sounds off again in the silence, you can see that another person is stepping through the door and your mind just stops. You catch the person’s gaze, finding yourself staring at Qui Gon’s worried expression as he steps into the room while glancing at the twi’lek nearby. When you glance back to the door, you take note of something small hobbling along next to a tall and dark skinned man. Without using too much brain power, you can easily tell that it’s Yoda and Mace, and they both turn to stare at you. The three take the time to approach your bed and it seems that Qui Gon is the one to stop his movements the closest to you.

“I'm sensing tremendous anxiety from you, young one,” Qui Gon comments softly and your eyes move to look at the older man.

“I…” starts your voice, but your brain doesn’t know how to continue. You look down from his eyes, ashamed at your sudden inability to convey the thoughts that you have. Then again, it’s not like you can voice all of your thoughts to them anyway. You can’t just tell them all that you know, can you?

“You seem to have forgotten everything,” Qui Gon says, “are you sure you don’t remember what happened before you woke up in my ship?”

        As much as you would want to be truthful and explain your situation, something tells you that you shouldn’t. Besides, something as large as “I came from another world that has this world as a fictional story” strikes you as… well, too much. It benefits you more by just avoiding that matter completely until you can come up with something or someway to explain it better and in a way that won’t have you labelled as crazy.

        And besides, not saying all that stuff would give you some transparency. To not draw attention to yourself would mean less questions about yourself and your past. Which is good. The less they pry into you, the better.

“I don’t remember anything before that, no,” you explain, shaking your head.

        Qui Gon hums lowly, seemingly deep in thought, and then you notice a shuffling in the corner of your eye. You glance over and Yoda seems to be inching a little closer with a head craned back to meet your gaze high above him.

“Masters, these are the results from the testing,” says the twi’lek and your eyes change subject again. You can’t see the screen from where you sit and you frown at that fact. What were they talking about? Tests? Like, physicals? Mentals? Midichlorians?

        Qui Gon and Mace move to check the screen, but Yoda stays put in his spot next to you. You don’t know if that’s because Yoda doesn’t want to go over there or he just doesn’t feel like going over there or something. Or maybe he doesn’t need too look at those charts the twi’lek has pulled up to know. Perhaps he already knows more then enough.

“As you can see, their midichlorian count before coming to Coruscant was high and unstable. All three tests from that time had different, but high, readings.”

        Well that’s concerning. “Unstable?” Doesn’t sound normal or good at all.

“But when you brought them in, their readings seem to have dropped to a safer level and have since then stabilized. Each test from after their arrival is completely different than the results we had before, but between each other, they are exact.”

“Almost as if they're a different person altogether,” Mace comments lowly. You watch as he turns to stare at you and you lower your gaze again to the hands you have clutching the blankets over your legs.

        Your worry of being caught lying— though you suppose the Jedi should already know if you’re lying or not with their perceptive sense— has been the only thing on your mind, and so much so that it’s only now that you realise that you notice you’re a lot… smaller than you remembered. Well, at least now you know why Qui Gon called you “young one.” You suppose it also makes your entrance into the world a little easier than if you were still your older age.

“Possibly, they may be, but certain we are not,” argues Yoda to Mace’s previous guess, humming as if he agreed with himself. “Tread carefully if true it is. More delicate than we thought might be this situation.”

        You look up from your hands at his words and let your eyes rest on Qui Gon and Mace’s before ducking away for Yoda’s and then to your hands again. Though you can’t exactly blame yourself for it, you can’t seem to hold your gaze on anyone. Without watching the three Jedi Masters, you can hear footsteps striding over the floor, sounding closer and closer with each step. When you look up again, you see Qui Gon where he stood earlier next to your bed and Mace now next to Yoda.

“So you don’t remember anything? Do you happen to know anything at all?” Qui Gon seems quite hopeful for some answers on your part to enlighten the situation you’re in now.

        But seeing as the truth of the situation is a little too much to handle, what exactly is safe to say?

“I know… my name?” you answer, frowning.

“Then we will start with that. Anything you remember is another step to figuring out what to do next,” he reassures you softly. “What is your name?”

        Should you give a fake name or real name? Which one’s safer to use?

“[Y/n]… [y/n] [l/n].” 

        You ended up using your real name in the end.

“I see,” Qui Gon comments with a nod towards you. “My name is Qui Gon Jinn.”

        With the gift of his name given in response to your gift of your name, he hums and crosses his arms over his chest, sending a glance towards the other Jedi Masters. They don’t say another word to each other, and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought that they were able to communicate with their minds.

        However, if you’re going to get any answers, you’re going to need the conversation to keep going. Meaning, you’ll have to ask the questions yourself since they don’t seem too willing to have any verbal conversations that you’ll be able to understand and get information from.

“What’s going to happen now?” you ask curiously, looking at both Qui Gon and Mace.

“They still have a high enough concentration of midichlorians to become a Jedi, if they so wish,” interjects the twi’lek lady, whose eyes are looking towards the other Jedi in the room almost expectantly.

“Well? Would you like to become a Jedi?” Mace looks at you with a stern expression, raising an eyebrow. To be frank, it’s almost like he doesn’t want to ask you for your choice. Maybe you’re too old to be a Jedi but still young enough to at least be given a choice.

        Now that you think about it, just how old are you now?

“Do I have any other choice?” you question curiously and the two men look at each other, considering your question while speaking in some way unknown to you to one another within the silence.

        Not to be so obviously quoting almost every Star Wars movie, but… you’ve got a bad feeling about this.

Chapter Text

        Qui Gon shakes his head and turns back to you. “No one in the surrounding villages knew who you were or what family you belonged to when I took you to them. They say you suddenly appeared one day, alone, and have been around for a few days simply wandering.”

        You couldn’t believe the strange backstory you had, and the confusion must show quite obviously because Qui Gon scratches his head and starts to tell the whole story to you.

“When I first met you, you never spoke a word to me. Not even when I asked for a name. When night began to fall, you led me to a Jedi Temple that had been lost for many years, judging by the records—” Qui Gon rubs his beard for a moment as if to contemplate his next words— “you collapsed after you led me inside and showed me a few of artifacts on the ground and a picture— this picture.”

        You watch as he reaches into his robes, pulling out a disc shaped object from beneath the layers. It’s something you recognize as something that could hold holograms or holographs, whichever one it is, and allow one to look at it again as if it were some sort of photograph. His finger presses down on the middle of the disc and an image jumps into the air, showing a rectangular mural of some sort. You lean a little further towards the strange mural, looking for anything that you could recognize, but it doesn’t look like you can see anything that’s personally familiar.

        The mural itself seems vaguely familiar, however, showing a picture of whom you believe is the Father, the Daughter and the Son with their respective motifs and little designs. A majority of the mural is bordered in what looks like gold and it reminds you of the mural shown in Rebels, though not quite exactly like it. Upon closer inspection, nothing about it seems familiar.

        With the image of a supposed dead end for information, you turn back to Qui Gon. “What happened next?” you ask, curious as to how this story ended and whether or not it would provide some insight as to what happened to you or why you’re here.

“You touched the mural, here—” Qui Gon points to a star that seems to be like a shooting star hurtling into the Father’s cupped hands— “and then you collapsed and the temple began doing the same.”

        Furrowing your eyebrows, you lean away from the image. The end to the story of whoever you were before ends without giving you any help whatsoever, leaving you more dissatisfied than ever. In the silence made by your own doing, you watch as Qui Gon clicks the button on the device again and the image disappears. Reaching out with it, he stops the hand holding the disc from advancing any closer to you, holding out the device close to your hands.

“Would you like to keep it? It seemed important to you.” 

        Your eyes jump from Qui Gon to the device and then back to Qui Gon again. Something like this seems a tad important, mostly for documentation or record purposes. You expected the Jedi Temple to keep something like this in their archives, or something, and leave you without it.

“Is that alright?”

        At first, your question is ignored and no one says anything but Qui Gon eventually turns to Mace. They don’t exchange any words, only a stare once again, before Mace sighs and nods. Qui Gon turns back to you, pushing the device a little further to you. You hesitate in taking the device, feeling a little weird taking a record of something believed to be something important to you. You end up reaching for it anyway, spurred on by the need to accept Qui Gon’s offer. Perhaps, if you look at it often enough, you’ll be able to figure something out from it now that it’s in your possession.

“The little artifacts are in my room at the moment, but I can give them to you once you’ve gotten your room. I assume they’ll lead to some sort of answer in the future, but I don’t think I’ll be the one to find it,” Qui Gon continues with a shake of his head.

        To think you’ll be getting everything that is supposedly deemed to be yours in a way. Not that anything in your mind thinks that this is necessarily a good thing since you don’t really have any sort of ownership over these objects. But at the same time, you can’t overlook them since they could all be clues to some degree. Here’s to hoping they are, at least. You look up to him and he gives you a small smile that you can’t help but return before your eyes fall back to the device in your hands.

        Could you really solve the mystery of your presence here? Is there even a mystery to solve? What are the chances of you being here simply just because of the fact of the Force wanting you to be here? Could it be for the sake of intervening? Something tells you that it’s probably not that one. Now that you think about it, the Force seems pretty focused on letting the world unfold on its own.

        So is your entrance into this world simply a coincidence?

        … 

        You’re not sure any one person could answer that question. You have a good feeling that you’ll only be able to find the answer if you were to contact the Force itself, but you highly doubt something like that is possible.

“So, what happens now? Am I going to be a Jedi?” You look up to the three men and they blink at each other.

        It’s Mace who moves first nodding his head and closing his eyes as if he were deep in thought. “You are older than our usual recruitments, however, if you choose to become a Jedi, have hope. With enough perseverance, you will be able to catch up to your peers.”

        To your side, you catch the sight of Yoda nodding in agreement, letting out a curt hum as he does. It doesn’t look like there are any complaints there from the highest ranking Jedi in the Order, which you suppose is reassuring.

        And you take Mace’s words to heart. You know that you’re behind and it’s a surprise that he even accepted the idea of allowing you into the Order despite your supposed older age. You don’t know exactly how old you are— then again, you don’t know anything about the you that you currently are— but with enough working and tweaking, you’re sure a majority of your questions will be answered soon. The easy questions will surely be answered, at least. You should definitely be grateful that you have a chance to live in the Temple and be safe as you search for the more complicated answers.

——

—

        But, you didn’t expect “soon” to be so soon. After that statement from Mace, the three left the room so that you could rest, and you did. The next day, it’s only Mace and Qui Gon who return, and with them comes more questions and theorizing about your person.

        You don’t know your age, so after some guesswork, they decide that you should probably be younger than ten. When the twi’lek woman is called in to help out— only if she could, at least— she deduces from some physical exam that you should be in the age range of five to seven. How she managed to come to such a conclusion is beyond you, but it seems as though she’s a doctor or at least medically trained and you know that the Star Wars universe has a bunch of weird technology, so you accept the estimation without much trouble. Mace and Qui Gon let you choose your age from those four choices, and seeing as though you had a good feeling about five, you picked five.

        As if following the layout of medical records, they suggest for you to decide on a birthdate, purely for medical and record purposes. When you hesitate, since you didn’t know what kind of calendar they have or if they even have the same twelve month system from back home, you end up saying the numbers attributed to your birthdate. They look towards each other expressionlessly and note that down. They don’t elaborate on the month or day or anything else further, so you sigh in relief when that moment passes rather easily.

        After that comes the question of how mature you are. You don’t know how to answer, obviously, so you play dumb. There’s practically no way around it, but they eventually accept the fact that you’re clearly more mature for your physical age without a solid explanation for such an occurrence. They seem to find some semi-reliable assurance when they connect it to another thing they note— well, Qui Gon notes.

“When I first met them, I thought I was speaking to the Force.”

        It feels like a passing comment, but the connotation of that statement weighs heavily on your shoulders. Those words are enough to reveal to you that yes, there’s something more to your place here. Though you still don’t have enough information to make anything like an informed guess as to why you’re here, it’s a start.

        Qui Gon is rather quick to imply that you’re something of an embodiment of the Force, leading Mace to understandably call you the “Chosen One” soon after. However, Qui Gon corrects him by saying that you shouldn’t have lost midichlorians once your condition stabilised, if that’s the case. Instead, Qui Gon reasons that whatever happened to the weird Force child from before your awakening aboard his ship, lead to them somehow leaving your body so that you, the you that you are now, became the new person inside the body. 

        He even goes as far as to suggest that maybe the Force had pushed away the personality of the real child away, creating the other persona of a Force child in order to “speak” to Qui Gon. Of course, once the child’s role was completed, the persona beneath it had risen back into the spotlight.

        You, supposedly.

“But they have no family. How can we explain that?”

“None of the villages knew them so perhaps their parents came from off world but… never made it and instead they did.”

        As sad as that theory is, you’re quite happy to have some sort of conclusion.

        After that and a bit more tying of some loose ends, they figured that, considering your level of maturity, you could be taught as much as you needed to know for your age group through accelerated learning. And the one to offer themself up? Qui Gon and his new Padawan, Obi Wan. Well, mostly Qui Gon offering himself with Obi Wan being dragged along and assigned as your said teacher, actually.

Chapter Text

        So, these days you find yourself sitting in the library for most of your days, reading the material Obi Wan picked very carefully for you. With Qui Gon still reporting the details of both his mission from before seeking you out and the one to seek you out as well as attend a few meetings with the Council about you, Obi Wan is left with so much free time that you practically have a full time instructor.

        The first thing Obi Wan felt was necessary for you to learn was reading and writing, just to make sure you were literate considering your dubious background. It soon became apparent to the young boy that you could not read or write because you just didn’t know the language the world uses as it’s universal. After all, nothing you knew of a language was anything like Basic. In the end, Obi Wan had to painstakingly start from the very beginning, trying to help you learn something you should’ve already known at this age.

        But to be honest, you didn’t like being so helpless with the language, and seeing as how much of a burden you’re becoming to Obi Wan, you were left with two choices: use the knowledge of your homeworld or remain ignorant. After some debate with yourself, you figured that openly using the language you used back at home would help you get a better grip and speed up the learning process— since having some sort of linguistic foundation to base your learning from was still better than having no foundation. Obi Wan was very confused to see that you could in fact write and read but only in a language he’s never seen before.

“It’s quite a strange looking language,” he noted when you first showed him.

        He questioned why you never said that you knew, in a way, how to read and write, and you had to lie saying you didn’t know what it was that you knew. Luckily, like all other people you’ve spoken to in this world, he took the lie pretty easily.

        Sorry, Obi Wan.

        He even asked you to write his name at some point, just so that he could see what his name looked like in another alphabet. Without any reason to reject his request, you showed him and he seemed to be extremely interested. You were happy to be able to bring a smile on his face and speed up your learning, but it definitely wasn’t enough to just be burying every corner of your brain inside the library. To catch up completely, you needed to work harder than you’ve ever worked in your life.

        After a while of that, you had managed to learn how to read Basic rather well. Alongside literary lessons, you had some sort of mathematics lessons seeing as the way numbers were written was a little different too. Learning the numbers themselves was relatively easy, as there aren’t a lot of complex ones to begin with, and with your mathematical skills from another life already in place, the lessons are completed with a fair deal of ease.

        Sprinkled in between those lessons were saber lessons and Force lessons. Now this was where your struggling was the most apparent. By then, Obi Wan seemed to be growing restless, according to Qui Gon, meaning that it was belatedly time for Obi Wan to start his Padawan life.

“I’m sorry to cut your tutorship so short, [y/n],” apologizes Qui Gon. You look up at him, your vision bobbing as the two of you continue strolling through the Temple grounds.

“It’s okay, I can continue learning from someone else,” you assure, wanting to cut away the worries plaguing the older man.

        You hear him chuckle and it’s a deep and gentle sound that’s amused and soft too, rumbling though the air with a feather light quality. Qui Gon turns to look down at you, placing a hand onto your shoulder.

“You are mature and insightful. I’m glad you were able to find a place here at the Temple,” Qui Gon begins almost endearingly, “and had it not been for you, I might not have gotten a Padawan either.”

        For a moment, his words strike you as odd. You remember there being something difficult about Obi Wan’s ascension into his Padawanship, but certain details were lost to you. However, Qui Gon made it sound so easy— perhaps too easy. Maybe you had already changed something with your entrance here? It’s as much of a possibility of something good as it could be something bad.

        But there’s not a whole lot you can deduce on your own and what you know as fact, so you clear your thoughts of this and return back to the conversation.

“I’m sure Obi Wan’ll be a great Jedi. He has the makings for one,” you say carefully. You don’t want to hint at anything too big, lest you draw some sort of attention to yourself.

“Yes, I’m sure he will,” Qui Gon says in agreement, nodding at your words. 

        When you level your eyes down to the ground, you realise how much further you’re lagging behind the older man and try speeding your steps, hopeful to catch up to his strides. You mentally curse your your even smaller body and, for the millionth time, wish that you were at least your normal size. At least then you wouldn’t be struggling so hard.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you hear Qui Gon say as if he noticed your struggling steps, “I forget how much smaller you are to me.” 

        At his particular words, you look up with curiosity.

“Why’s that?” You match your step with his, managing to keep your pace in rhythm with his for a few moments before his overtakes yours again. This time, you let this happen and return your attention to Qui Gon. You’ll just have to catch up later.

“Speaking to you feels as though I’m speaking to a fellow Master,” Qui Gon explains with a short hum and a nod, “the level of maturity in you is uncanny for many, even those in their first years as Jedi Knights.”

        That takes you by surprise.

“Does that mean you… like talking to me?” You didn’t really get what he’s trying to hint at, but he seems to enjoy your conversations at least a little bit. Now that you think about it, him striking a conversation with you happens rather often, especially when the two of you coincidentally have breaks at the same time.

“Yes, I do. Speaking to a free mind is much easier then the mind of, let’s say, Master Windu.” Qui Gon shakes his head but there’s a smile on his face. “He really needs to lighten up, don’t you agree?”

        You look up from the ground, scanning your surroundings just in case Mace was around to hear your answer. Or if not him, then someone who might tell him what you said. When you figure you’re safe, you look back to Qui Gon.

“Well, I think that maybe everyone just needs to lighten up a little.” You cross your arms over your chest and huff at the thought of the Council in particular. 

“A good observation,” Qui Gon notes gleefully, happy to have found someone that shares his views on the matter.

        You look back up to him to see him smiling down on you. Cocking your head to the side, you watch as his smile grows a little bigger. His hand, much larger than your own, falls onto your shoulder within this silence.

“I would have enjoyed watching you grow, but I must attend to my duties to Obi Wan now,” Qui Gon murmurs suddenly and you find yourself perking up.

“It’s no problem,” you quickly assure, waving your hands back and forth defensively. “Before you know it, I’ll be a Padawan!”

        Your promise causes him to blink and smile again.

“I hope I’ll be there to see you become a Jedi Knight and hopefully have a Padawan of your own,” Qui Gon says as if he’s correcting you.

        His words sting your heart. After all this time, having been able to spend time with Qui Gon, you’ve come to like his presence very much. The promise of seeing you grow into a Jedi hangs in the air and you’re almost afraid of mentioning it, like the Temple would just combust the moment you said anything to vocalise the dreadful thoughts swarming your mind. You don’t know how he’s going to do any of that considering how he’s supposed to be dead once Anakin comes around.

        Then again, you have the ability to do something about that, don’t you?

“Master Jinn?” You see him turn his head to you, vaguely surprised to hear that you’re calling him out directly like this. “I don’t know how to explain this, but if you ever come across someone dangerous, please don’t fight them alone.”

        Qui Gon’s eyes widen at your words and you worry that you gave too much away with that bold warning. Maybe you screwed yourself over with something like that, but eventually, his expression falls away for his typical gentle expression. 

“I will keep your advice in mind, young one,” says Qui Gon with a curt nod and a rustle of his sleeves.

        You brighten at the fact that he didn’t call you out for those foreboding words, feeling a grin spread across your face. To see him heeding a warning you don’t know if he’d remember is enough of an assurance that you at least tried. Though you wish you could do more, you know you can’t. The event isn’t to take place until much further along, and even if you were to try and prepare to intervene, you have a feeling that the ways of this world won’t allow for that sort of interference. For Obi Wan’s sake, knowing that you tried has to be enough.

        But maybe you could warn him again later on when the time comes for this warning to come true. You can only hope that your efforts will be what the man needs.

        You can only hope.

Chapter Text

        Time flies by and you find yourself taught by other instructors, the ones actually meant to be teaching the things you needed to learn as a Jedi youngling. It didn’t take long before you noticed that you didn’t enjoy their presence as much as you enjoyed Obi Wan’s, which is why your motivation spiked. You wanted to study diligently enough to rid yourself of them as soon as possible. But your general dislike for these instructors isn’t the only reason for your sudden boost in motivation. Your promise to Qui Gon to become a Jedi Knight and get a Padawan— even though the Padawan bit is a bit of a maybe— spurred you on to move as far as you could.

        And even if you didn’t want to admit to it, you didn’t want to lag too far behind Obi Wan. The two of you are quite far apart when considering your ages, yes, but it didn’t quell the fact that there was some part of you whispering for you to progress so that you could stand next to him as his equal. 

        But that longing to stand next to Obi Wan is a problem in it of itself and you know that you’ll have to deal with that crush, or whatever it was, and make sure you don’t end up letting it go on for too long. After all, you’re going to try and save Satine for the sole reason that Obi Wan would be happier with her around. With someone like her next to him, there was no more space for someone like you, unfortunately. By that token, it would save you a lot of heartache if you let him go sooner rather than later.

        Your accelerated studies carried on for quite some time. Your days were filled with nothing but studying and practicing everyday and all day, cramming all hours with something to do. Honestly, you were surprised that you didn’t become fed up or come too close to burning out due to it all. Especially when it came to saber training. Sure, academics were easy after finally memorising the alphabet and the number system with the help of your older mental age, but using anything remotely similar to a lightsaber was hard as hell. Not to mention, gaining that Jedi physique and the application of techniques and movements was just… a lot.

        But the one thing that surprised you the most was your ability to use the Force. Mostly because of what you needed to get through before actually being able to use the Force well. For some reason no one seemed to understand, it took one month to learn how to pick something like a leaf from the ground, and even something like that required special guidance from Yoda himself. You suppose you should count yourself lucky that you were even able to get through such a strangely difficult time. All it took was a hard, hard struggle through a bottleneck of obstacles until you finally learned how to manipulate the Force.

        From there, once you’d learned to— as Yoda said— let go and let the Force guide you, it became easier and easier. From what you gathered as his advice isn’t all that easy to follow, all you had to do was relax and let the weird pressure that you feel around you drain into you, as if you were giving it passage into your body.

        … 

        Or, something like that.

        Even with that problem dealt with, patience and simply letting go wouldn’t work with something like saber training. That remained difficult.

        But there was another thing that bothered you, haunting the edges of your mind during all waking hours of the day. That feeling of disconnection that’s been present ever since you arrived. You never told anyone about it, figuring that it was simply a consequence of your being here, meaning you needed to figure out an explanation or a cure yourself. It never left your body and everyday was filled with a creeping feeling of something not adding up. Of course, you knew something was wrong, but it seemed like no one else noticed. No one mentioned a word about this weird feeling and that left you in the dark in regards to it, meaning that it was truly something only you could work out.

        And even now, four months since Obi Wan was last here as your tutor of sorts, you’re still drowning in your studies and practice. Reading, practicing, memorising: those were pretty much your only activities. When you weren’t studying in the library, you were practicing your saber techniques, and when you weren’t doing that, you were studying. Combat practice offered you enough relaxing from the taxing notion of literary studyship, so the balance was well kept and alright.

        No one questioned your behavior and no one tried to stop you from overworking yourself either. They all seemed to be passively watching from the side as you struggled to push yourself further than you probably needed to for the sake of “catching up.” Perhaps they thought it was the smartest choice you could have made. Maybe they thought that this would be good for you, silently giving you free rein since all this studying and practicing would eventually make you a good Padawan and a better Jedi.

        Well, perhaps they were right. Sure the repeating nature of studying and practicing was a little bit much sometimes, but never too overwhelming. And the payoff was definitely good.

        Just like that, your world falls away, transitioning into one of repetitions. In a way, it mirrors the world you left, and on good days, you completely forgot about that previous life. On bad days, you try to hide away from the sadness gnawing at your heart. There had been a moment during one of these mundanely passing days when the remorse had struck you so hard that you’d managed to catch the eyes of some older Jedi you didn’t know the names of. Fearing for the possibility of being called out, you quickly pushed the sadness away and tried pulling the Force over you like a cloak or a blanket.

        Anything to hide away from those watchful eyes.

        Even without you being quite aware of it all the time, the faithful cover of yours remains covering your person. Now, you spend your days with a heavy presence constantly lingering over you. It’s a little assuring, though, to feel such a comforting touch, so you’re not complaining. It helps on days when you feel lonely, prodding you back into the reality of your situation with a light touch.

        So just like before, you distract yourself with the present and the possibility of a future. With so much to do, there’s no time for thinking and grieving and mourning. There’s just so much to do. Thankfully there is, at least. You can’t imagine what your life would be like if you had too much time to think about things you’d rather keep away from the limelight of your mind.

Chapter Text

        Days pass and weeks fall away. Time crumbles within your hands and it isn’t until you find yourself having passed the Initiate Trials and holding a lightsaber in your hands that you finally rid yourself of the veil that had been obscuring your mind from life for the mundane world of Jedi training. It’s with the voices of the other Initiates who went with you to Illum speaking and talking around you that you finally woke up from your daze. As sudden as it feels, it’s not at all a bad feeling. Similar to the feeling of waking up, it’s kind of refreshing.

        But it’s not the voices of those other younglings that really shake you awake. After all, you’ve only befriended a few others, mostly when you were first placed into your age group. Some seemed to dislike you for suddenly dropping in, but that didn’t stop you from shyly befriending a few who didn’t seem to mind your presence very much. Although they would much prefer the company of their other friends, you were just happy to have some sort of anchor.

        Perhaps it’s the realisation of suddenly coming so far that really dragged your mind back into the real world.

        At the thought of your apparent loneliness, you let out a sigh. Your eyes drift over the faraway scene of ever-busy Coruscant from your seat with your feet dangling over the edge of a balcony-like place you found over the years of wandering during breaks. Immediately, after noting how no one really seemed to ever make their way over here, you made this a place for you to escape. In this tucked away place within the Temple, times where you felt a little down or lonely made this the perfect place to go to just let it all go without the watchful eyes of older Jedi or other younglings.

        All in all, this was the one place other than your room where you could be closer to the you beneath the Jedi persona you’ve crafted in peace. Sporting such a young age, it was hard to find the right balance between the two different sides of yourself.

“You’ve worked quite hard for these past two years, [y/n].”

        You’re caught by surprise at the voice, seeing as none too many ever really make their way here, only to turn to see the one face you didn’t think you’d ever see here.

“Obi Wan,” you say rather breathlessly with awe. It takes a split second for you to gather your bewilderment. “Oh, um, how’s Padawan life with Master Jinn?” 

        Well, that came out sort of awkward.

        But Obi Wan doesn’t seem to mind, chuckling and smiling in a way one would only do for a friend as he makes his way closer to you. In just a few seconds, he’s sitting next to you with his legs crossed over each other at the edge of the platform, positioning his knee a few finger widths away from your own. As you watch him, you notice that he even looks older than the last time you saw him.

“It’s good— great, even,” Obi Wan answers bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “I also heard from Master Jinn that if it weren’t for you, he might have not returned to Coruscant, meaning that I may not have gotten a Master when I did. I wanted to thank you but I never found the chance to until now. Forgive me for such a tardy thank-you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you start with a bashful tone of your own. “You’re a great Force User. You’d have been picked without me being around, I know you would’ve.”

“I’m afraid it’s true that I might not have been as lucky as you imagine,” Obi Wan corrects, shaking his head. “I was nearing the oldest I could be. I would have never been given the chance if not for you.” 

        When your eyes glance up to his face, you can see that he stares at you with quite the intensity that it sends your eyes turning away and your lips pursing slightly.

“I still think you’d have been chosen anyway,” you mumble lowly. Your fingers fiddle with your robes in the awkward silence as you ignore the blue-grey eyes that try to stare directly into your own. You hear him chuckle as well, either at your words or your actions, but you don’t turn to look at him.

        Then, a full silence takes over the air and you’re left to simply stare out into the browns and tans of the cityscape once you leave your robes alone. After staring at this view so often, it’s no wonder that you feel like you’ve memorised this specific horizon. With the distant sounds of traffic echoing in you ears and the hustle of the tiny dots bouncing about yet barely visible from this distance, the atmosphere is calm and nice.

“I’ve heard you’ve been offered Padawanship from someone,” Obi Wan comments suddenly and you jerk out from your thoughts rather ungracefully.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Master Windu seems to want to train me—” you scratch your cheek, all of a sudden feeling like something’s nipping at your skin— “I don’t know why he’d choose me but…”

“You’re incredible for your age!” Obi Wan practically scoffs out, rather angry at the fact that you’re downplaying yourself. 

        Or perhaps he’s angry that you’re being placed into Padawanship so early.

“To be mentored by Master Windu, nonetheless,” Obi Wan continues wistfully. “You really are something special, [y/n].” 

        No, he’s definitely just a little bothered by the fact that you’re downplaying yourself.

“I don’t know about special,” you grumble softly, “but I guess I have to amount to something.”

        To confess to something like that is a little embarrassing. Even more so in this moment because Obi Wan doesn’t find it too difficult to be laying so many praises onto you at once. It’s a little too much for you, frankly.

“Of course you do,” assures Obi Wan with a victorious tone.

        But really, compared to the person Obi Wan’ll become? He’s more of the special one, not you. As that thought crosses your mind, you take care to not meet his gaze. That and the fact that at the moment, you’re alone having some sort of heart to heart, you suppose. After being buttered up with so many compliments like that, looking over might end up making your fears of completely losing all hold that you have over your heart a reality. Because of that, you opt to just stare directly in front of you. 

        In the silence with nothing but the city to listen to, you can’t help but replay the words he said to you. Though you tried to refute them, they are words that make you happy. Not many people have praised you in the way that he did during your time here. Compared to the months that others have had to say something along those lines, Obi Wan took charge and wiped them all off the table in a few seconds. Even as you tilt your head down to try to hide the smile rising to your lips, a soft laugh escapes you into the air all around.

“Thanks, Obi Wan.” You risk a glance over to him to add, “you too. You’re great too.”

“Thank you, [y/n]. I’m relieved to know such an incredible person such as yourself sees such greatness in me as well,” Obi Wan’s voice responds cheerfully and you let your eyes take in the city again.

        Something about this life doesn’t seem all that horrible after all.

Chapter Text

        After finally, and actually, becoming Mace’s official Padawan, you were told that you would stay in Coruscant for quite some time before actually being taken out for some sort of mission, whatever those might be about. He told you that seeing as this was quite the transitional period for you apparently, meaning you needed time to adjust to your sudden shift of life. With your heart set on learning how to dual wield, you really didn’t mind staying at the Jedi Temple and resuming the life of learning, but at a more casual pace now that you’ve reached such an important milestone.

        But this also left you with lots of downtime in between your saber training and your somewhat more casual academically based learning. You know for certain these times would normally be spent doing something like meditating or something, but that isn’t what you end up doing. Despite probably needing more relaxation time, you end up finding yourself quite often in the library, where Jocasta Nu had papers— or flimsi, as they called it— for you to use.

        Now, it’s true that paper is pretty inconvenient, and that’s especially the case when compared to the convenient ease of datapads, but it remained something that reminded you of home. Based on that sentimental fact alone, you tried to use it whenever you had some time to spare. Simply for that nostalgic feeling.

        At first, she seemed a little confused as to why you wanted to use paper for anything, and you can’t say that you blame her considering such a request, but when you mentioned that something about it felt a little better than using a datapad, she seemed more than happy to give you some and a pen to use with it. Perhaps she was happy to indulge such a strange side of you. She was something like the guardian of the library, so maybe she had quite the scholarly side to her that made it easier for her to appreciate the historical value of paper.

        Or maybe not. Who knows?

        Now happy with a little piece of home so close, it was all too easy to end up snuggled in one of the farthest and most hidden places within the library just writing. Pretty much anything made their way onto the empty space. It’s mostly the agency of being able to write on paper again that you’re looking for, after all. It makes you feel safe in such a faraway world. Seeing as there were just so many foreign things all around you all the time, just this little thing made days pass a little faster and a little more smoothly.

        Jedi sayings,

        Lightsaber techniques,

        Essential pieces of history be it about here or the world back home,

        Names,

        Places you can’t go to or places you could go to,

        Whatever it may be, even songs you can only remember portions of on hand. 

        These papers would be filled with these things, slowly amassing pages upon pages of your writing in a sort of ink that seemed different than the ink you were familiar with at home. Though how exactly it was different was quite lost to you. It was just a feeling, you suppose. Though Jedi were forbidden to make attachments, you would often keep one or two of these papers after these silent sessions. Usually the ones that held words that were more than just simple regurgitations of whatever was in your mind at that time. The, supposedly, “special” ones were kept.

        And today, like any other day, you find yourself staring idly at one page as you await for something to pass through your mind, your fingers, and onto the paper. You suppose it’s moments like these that could be considered a relaxing and restful moment in your otherwise busy day. Absentmindedly, the pen touches to the paper and letters begin to build up to words and then—

        I love you

        Alarm pulses through your body the moment you realise that such a phrase wafting through your mind has made it onto the page. Quickly, your pen drags across the page, crafting a line through the words along with an “x” to further ruin the words to the point of no return. If anyone caught sight of such a phrase, despite it not being in Basic, you still worry that someone might be able to understand the meaning of it. With a sigh, you shove it aside— quite far aside where your to-be-discarded pile sits next to the blank sheets. The two piles were practically merging at this point.

        But the little bit of the corner of that page that sticks out is enough for your mind to return to the words that had drifted over your attention so suddenly. To write it down like that… It isn’t as great as saying your feelings aloud to the right person, but you suppose it’s still something. To get it out in some way feels nice.

        Shoving that thought aside, you return your pen to page as willing as one wanting to forget a previous branch of thought might be. You keep yourself entertained by scribbling away, writing in the language Obi Wan called “strange” and “unknown” despite it being so familiar and homey to you. The letters and numbers, all of it gives you the same agency as the paper itself, reminding you of home and bringing joy to your heart that’s different than any joy brought out from this world.

“I was told you’d be here writing away your day.”

        The voice cuts through your rambling thoughts like knife to butter, easily piercing through and straight into your ears and shaking you into a seating position that has your spine perpendicular to the ground. Turning to your side, you see Obi Wan staring at you with a small smile on his face. Since the last time the two of you spoke up on the balcony, it’s been about a week.

        And if your math is right, you’re eight while he’s fourteen.

“Well, it’s better than sleeping the day away in terms of rest,” you quip back and his smile broadens.

        He doesn’t say anything more, remaining quiet as he leans forward to scan the papers strewn about. If he had something to say in response to you, then it’s long gone now that his attention has been taken completely by the unfamiliar sight of paper and your writing. You can hear him hum as he does quite often, curiously reading what he couldn’t read.

“It’s that language again,” he notes and you nod when you see him glance over at you from the corner of his gaze. “It’s definitely much nicer to look at than what I normally see of Basic.”

“That’s because it’s new,” you offer as an explanation with a relaxation of your posture and shoulders. “It’s understandable that you’d prefer seeing something new and interesting over the same old thing.”

        The subtle curling of his lips isn’t lost to you as his eyes glimmer with interest.

“Tell me, [y/n],” Obi Wan starts again with a finger to his chin, “how did my name go again? I seem to have forgotten since the last time you showed me.”

        Well, there’s no reason for you to decline his request, so your hand reaches out for another empty sheet of paper. With practiced movements feeling quite similar to instinct at this rate, the pen drifts over the page to note down his name in the same language as he wanted you to. To make it a little easier to distinguish the bunches of letters, you make sure to space out the letters a little more than usual, forcing yourself to write a little more neatly than usual at the same time. After writing his name out in Basic underneath so that he had a point of reference, you push it towards him.

“So these letters correspond with these?” Obi Wan points to your letters and then to the Basic letters and you nod.

        You take in the sight of him staring at the letters with a discerning eye as if he were trying to learn what little of the alphabet you provided him with.

        You open your mouth to question his interest, kind of curious about his curiosity, but the commlink in your pocket suddenly begins to beep loudly. You know it’s your alarm because you had been the one to set it up so that you weren’t going to forget about the day’s training. The somewhat shrill sound cuts through the silence of the library, and not wanting to disturb any others in the large space meant for learning, you quickly slip a hand into your robes to turn the thing off.

        It was time to go prepare for a training session with Mace.

“Sorry, Obi Wan. It looks like I have to go,” you say after lifting your hand from your robes and the hidden commlink. “Did you want to talk?”

        You doubt he’d randomly come find you for no reason.

“Oh, no, it’s no problem at all,” Obi Wan reassures with another one of his bright smiles. “I figured you may have been somewhat lonely in this corner on your own.”

        The explanation easily causes a flutter to run through your heart. Then again, it’s most likely that he was just feeling a little kind, as he always seems to be with you.

        Offering a smile of your own feels like the only way you can really respond. Your hands make quick work to gather your things, mostly your pen and the papers you wanted to keep, and seeing as the library is quite far from your room, it would do well to move as swiftly as you could so that you can drop off your things. Can’t exactly walk into a training session with arms full of paper, now can you?

        You glance up at Obi Wan, letting your eyes dip to the table, noticing that there lies a few papers you hadn’t gathered that still remain empty. Mixed with a few of the to-be-discarded sheets, the pile sits there rather innocently, and you flicker my gaze up towards Obi Wan.

“You can keep these ones,” you offer after plucking off the top of the discarded pile. You didn’t want him to be able to look at your mindless writings even if he couldn’t read them after all. 

“And what will I do with these?” Obi Wan asks curiously, gathering up the strewn pages. He looks up at you from the papers, and even though his question sounded quite lost, you can see the playful twinkle in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” you answer lightly, feeling your lips curl upwards again, “maybe practice your name with those? You can ask Jocasta Nu for something to write with, if you need one.”

        Obi Wan shakes his head, chuckling softly to himself in defeat, but there’s a hint of something satisfied in the way his laugh passes, and that’s enough. With one last farewell to the copper haired teen, you make your way out of the library and towards your new room as bestowed to those accepted as a Padawan.

        Your footsteps are light as you trek through the halls while your heart feels like it’s soaring over the clouds. It’s easy to know why this feeling is swirling around you. The smile on your face falters only slightly before a thought passes over like a cloud on a sunny day, blotting out the sun from the world.

        You’ll really need to control your heart before your infatuation with Obi Wan becomes unbearable.

Chapter Text

        Perhaps it’s a stroke of luck or maybe it’s fate trying to tear you apart, but sooner than you would have liked, an opportunity arises to whisk you away onto a mission in which you’ll be working with both Qui Gon and Obi Wan as Mace’s Padawan. As a Padawan starting the first years of your life of trips outside of the Temple working towards knighthood, it was time for you to start learning what the Jedi actually did and to see how in person.

        The mission seemed simple enough. There had been repeated strange phenomena of kids disappearing and never returning. It’s the classic horror movie premise, and in a world like Star Wars, the possibilities of what this monster could be is… troubling. The pressing feeling of the Force reassures you of any nerves sticking out and you let a faint smile pass onto your lips. Though the feeling of a presence with no physicality is a little off putting, it does come with the idea that you’re never really alone without any help.

        Even when you’re sitting in a ship with two Jedi Masters and one older Jedi Padawan, the feeling of being a bit out of touch from them and from reality is still quite strong. After all, it’s still incredible to still actually be here even after all these years and not waking up back in your bed thinking that this was all a dream. To constantly feel something through your senses brings about a feeling of groundedness.

“Is that the Force I sense?” 

        Looking up from the table in front of you tucked away in the back end of the ship where you could sit with your thoughts away from the two senior Masters, you see Obi Wan make his way over. To his question, you nod.

“Why are you hiding in the Force like this?” Obi Wan questions curiously. He stops at the edge of the table, not making any motion to sit down and seemingly happy with standing there.

        You struggle to find a reasonable answer. You don’t necessarily have one you want to share but Obi Wan seems to want one.

“I don’t know,” you answer, shaking your head. “There was a Jedi Master watching me when I was thinking of home. I guess I felt a little nervous about being caught with those feelings.”

        It wasn’t a lie and you weren’t skirting around the truth at all. 

“Perhaps that’s why they were watching you. They must have felt your unease through the Force,” Obi Wan says, nodding as if he now understood his own words more deeply after saying them. 

        Perhaps he’d lecture you on the way of the Code and how you shouldn’t be missing home like this too, at this rate. But he doesn’t. 

“You have always been quite connected with the Force, after all. Your emotions must be quite profound with the added presence of the Force.”

        That’s it?

        … 

“Maybe,” is what you manage, still surprised at the lack of a lecture. “Is it bad to have it around me like this?” 

        He furrows his brows and goes silent for a moment.

“Not ‘bad,’ as you put it, but attention grabbing,” Obi Wan explains and you frown at this.

        It didn’t seem that attention grabbing. After all, you didn’t seem to catch many eyes staring at you these past few months. The initial excitement of your abilities should have already passed anyway, putting you into the clear for some peace and quiet. At the prospect of not gaining that much peace and quiet, you lean onto the table in defeat. Lifting up your head, you try not to seem too bothered in knowing that you were just as attention grabbing as before.

“Is there another reason why you want to hide?”

        Your eyes flicker upwards to Obi Wan at such an innocent question. If only he knew what exactly you had to keep hidden from watchful gazes.

“I guess…” you start, shifting your eyes away from the teen as your mind trails off for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I’d rather bring attention to myself than accidentally let out something I probably shouldn’t.”

        A bit of a lecture here and there is a much better alternative to someone finding out even a miniscule part to your truth, after all.

“If it’s any assurance, I’ll be here if you need someone to speak to—” Obi Wan offers hopefully and all too quickly. Though, if there is any indication of something hidden in the back of his mind, it’s covered but his usual soft smile.

        You’re sure Obi Wan must have his own troubles to deal with. To think he must be living his life care and worry free somehow feels incorrect and quite possibly impossible.

“—and there is Master Jinn and Master Windu as well,” Obi Wan continues, pulling you out of your thoughts.

        How like him to remind you that there was always someone around to speak to if you needed a willing ear. His smile seems to deepen the longer you stare at it, but it’s reassuring. 

“Come now, [y/n],” he says as he finally seats himself down next to you, “there’s no part of you that needs to be hidden.”

        Deep down in your heart, you’re not completely convinced you could spill your worries to just anyone, but his smile practically melts away all your negativity at once. Whatever expression that had been on your face prior gives away for a smile of your own.

“Alright, alright,” you say, pulling yourself off of the table to allow him this victory, “you win.” 

        Feeling a little lighter about the world around you, you lean back into the backrest and heave a sigh before closing your eyes from the world. To think you could ever win against Obi Wan in any sort of battle… 

        You let the weight swirling over your person nudge a little closer to your body. It seeps into your shoulders and arms, giving you a strange, tingly sensation before you let it go completely. Without trouble, it pulls away and leaves you presenceless yet light. It’s a feeling you can remember from a time before you dragged such a cover over yourself. When you open your eyes again, you can see Obi Wan looking too triumphant for such a situation.

“Are you happy now?” you question, watching Obi Wan’s bright expression get brighter.

        His blue-grey eyes are partially hidden from you behind upside down crescent moons that have come out with the chuckles that pull the corners of his lips upwards. His broad smile stretches across his face and the tension that was in the air is essentially gone, replaced with something so much more incredible along with the appearance of the heavenly smile of Obi Wan’s.

        You’re certain you don’t think you’d ever not feel grateful to him for being here with you.

Chapter Text

        But it seems that nothing good ever carries on forever. Eventually, the good times will have to end and it seems that this universe always enjoys throwing a wrench into the calm waters of your life and creating waves that stretch on and on, crashing down on you and sending you into the dark abyss of who knows where.

        As if to mirror the turbulent waters of your life, the darkness around you now looks like it’s swirling, distorting, and melting into a void that coils around you. Grabbing hold of every portion of your body that it can reach, it nips you with cold fangs as if to remind you of its presence. Not to mention, there’s a strange quality to the Force around all of you that truly makes it seem like it’s biting and nipping. The dark world stretching all around unnerves you, but with the combined presence of Mace, Qui Gon, Obi Wan nearby, everything seems fine.

        You catch a hint of something echoing through the darkened tunnels around you, but it was only a sliver in the darkness. Nothing more and nothing less, even as you turn around to look for anything in the void that could have been the source for that sound. Not even the light from the outside world filtering through the cave entrance could reach this place you were in now. Everything just looks like nothing.

        Yet, this nothing seems to be heralding something.

“There’s something coming,” states Mace quickly, voicing your own racing thoughts and wasting no time before moving his hand to his lightsaber.

        Your hands move instinctively to the weapon at your side as well, and in your place directly behind him and in front of Obi Wan and Qui Gon, your senses finally notice the approaching presence too. For a moment, nothing seems to happen and the world falls into complete silence.

        But only at first.

        hisssssgggkkkk

        The screeching, high pitched sound blasts your ears and momentarily stuns you with its advantage of a surprise. The familiar sound of a humming follows the inhuman sound, reorienting your senses quickly enough for you to see, past the purple glow of Mace’s lightsaber, a strange spider-like creature coloured black with fangs baring at Mace from a side tunnel. Swallowing your initial fear of such a large creature, you thrust a hand towards it while calling forth for power from the stale air around you.

        The thing screeches and is thrown back into the darkness it came from. You can hear its scuttling on the earth, but the sound isn’t getting closer. It’s getting farther. The sounds of its legs running along the stoney earth continue to fade until there’s nothing but the darkness from before. Once the quiet atmosphere returns, Mace retracts the saber blade into the hilt and you’re plunged into the same darkness as before.

“A good choice of action, [y/n],” Mace’s voice praises from within the darkness in front of you.

“Thanks, Master,” you respond, happy with yourself. “I hope it doesn’t come back.”

“It doesn’t seem as though it will,” says Obi Wan from somewhere behind you, “but if it does, we’ll be ready.”

        You can hear the sound of a saber retracting behind you, and you allow your mind to take the opportunity to thank the fact that you had others around you rather then being here alone. 

“Let’s keep moving,” begins Mace once more. “The longer we stay in these tunnels, the less chances are that we’ll find the children.”

        You try not to think twice about the consequences of arriving to late to the children. Mace is right, you had to keep moving. There’re big chances that at least some of them are still alive, and if you move fast enough, you can save those few.

        And so you fall into another silence as you trek through the darkness. Nothing leaps out at you and there aren’t any sounds other than the ones you create on your own. That and some faraway scuffles that echo through the tunnels eerily, foreshadowing what may come in the near future. Just how far the origins of those sounds are, you don’t know. You could barely tell what’s wall and what’s air in front of you.

        aaa... 

        You freeze on the spot and try listening in for that same sound again. This one doesn’t sound like the spider from before and neither did it sound like the relatively normal cave noises floating around. This sounds like it’s created by something living, like something crying out.

        aa —

        The sound just barely reaches your ears before you feel something touch your back. To avoid making a scene, you suck in a breath and reach out the other to grab whatever touched you in order to initiate something with whatever it is on your own terms. When your hand meets with cloth and something fleshy, you hear a yelp.

“It’s just me! Obi Wan!” you hear a voice whisper back with alarm. 

        You let out a soft apology and retract your hand from his wrist. 

“Are you alright?” Obi Wan asks through the darkness.

“I’m fine,” you reassure the boy. “Thanks for checking in.”

“Of course.”

        Once that passes and any remaining remorse for roughly handling him is shoved away, you turn back around to catch up to Mace wherever he is down the tunnel. You hear boots behind you, revealing that the other Master-Padawan pair are jogging to catch up after your hurried steps.

        aaaaaa...

“I hear them,” Qui Gon says suddenly, breaking the empty silence, “they’re alive.”

        Finally, the sounds you heard are given an origin that Qui Gon identifies for you.

“Then we must move quickly,” is all Mace says before continuing his march.

        You hear his footsteps amidst the faraway sounds of crying and quickly follow behind. You keep your hands up and ready, but you try not to rely on them while you make your way through the darkness. Instead, you pour your concentration into using the Force and letting it guide you along instead. Though the Force doesn’t give you night vision, it does sort of flow around any obstacles in your way as a river current would around rocks and other debris obstructing the flow.

        The darkness around you stretching as far as the eye can see from past your fingertips makes the next few moments— or maybe hour— stretch on for years but you don’t dare to pull out anything that could tell you the time. You’re a Jedi, after all. You needed to just trust the Force and hope that you can make it before any more children die in these caverns.

        Voices and crying get louder and louder with each step, meaning that you’re getting closer and closer. The distant quality to the voices that become clearer and clearer until you can finally make out the individual words the young children are vocalising. Your body becomes antsy as you near what you’re expecting is the cavern that houses the children— or as the spider things must call them, food.

        Then, one by one, you break out of the tunnels into a place that you can feel is a much bigger room. When the sudden empty silence stills over the area, you hear soft shuffling.

“Hello?” you whisper softly, being the first of the group to react in any verbal way while stepping closer to Mace’s side up at the front of the group.

“W-who’s there?”

        That’s definitely a child.

“Are you the children of the nearby village?” Qui Gon questions as his boots crush the tiny pebbles below, grinding stone into stone. 

“Y-yes,” answers a shapeless child.

“You don’t have to be scared,” you assure as softly as possible. An acceptance for you to take the lead with the children from Mace allows you to step a little closer towards the centre of the room. Your eyes flicker about, seeking the bodies you know are there through the Force. “We’re here to help you get back home.”

        It all grows silent for a little while until you can sense the presence stepping closer to you. You let yourself seem as open as can be while calming your unsteady heart. Then, you feel a hand grab at your cloak. It’s then joined by several others and you crouch down lower to their level. With your hands, you slowly move them to rest over a few shoulders in order to wrap them within a warmth they’ve probably been without for a very long, long time.

        A few even begin sniffling and sobbing softly. The moment is heartwarming and a little saddening, but it definitely doesn’t last all that long.

        skrtch skrtch

        A scream suddenly erupts from an unknown source within the room, but you know it isn’t one of the children near you.

“No! Please!” cries out a young voice before it’s muffled and quieted all too soon. 

        It all happens so quickly that you’re frozen for just a moment. The other children seem to be as well, seeing as they no longer shuffle on the spot and instead stand where they are, cowering. You recover from the shock much more quickly than the children and do your best to throw your arms around the group in your vicinity as a protective shield. Pairs of footsteps echoes in the darkness and the children shiver with fright, but your know it’s just the other three.

“Obi Wan, stay here with [y/n] and take care of the younglings,” Qui Gon’s voice commands quickly, throwing out the assignment easily.

“Watch over them carefully, [y/n],” adds Mace.

        Both Obi Wan and you give your “yes”s to your Masters’ request, and without waiting for a single second more two pairs of boots rush off. The small bodies reanimate after the sound of Mace and Qui Gon leaving the area. Little hands near you grip tightly to your clothes and mouths betray whatever little bit of courage the children have left within themselves in the sounds of whimpers and the start to more crying. 

        When Obi Wan starts to make his way over, the hands tighten around your cloak.

“It’s alright, Obi Wan’s a good guy. He’ll make sure they won’t come back for you until we can leave,” you try whispering encouragingly to the darkness surrounding you with little hands. 

        The darkness doesn’t let you see the shivering children, but you can sense them through the Force and their touch. They seem to relax at your words and Obi Wan’s able to inch a little closer for protective measures. He’s no doubt watching any and all entrances into this room with caution and a hand over his saber.

        Then, almost as suddenly as that scream from before, a hand loses it’s grip on your cloak. Fingers drag down the cloth of the robe towards the ground as if wanting to pull you to the rocky and dusty floor beneath the soles of your feet. The children around you start bustling with anxious energy and you can only think of the worse as the touch reaches the end of the robe. Sending the cloth rebounding back from being stretched, the pull of the weak hands disappears completely.

“Something is wrong,” Obi Wan’s voice states urgently and you can’t seem to stop the dread from gathering in your throat.

        You try reaching out for the lost child, but the darkness makes it quite hard to do such a thing. “Obi Wan, can you turn on your lightsaber?” 

        Using the Force to locate their every bodily detail is possible and all, but seeing would be easier.

“Of course,” Obi Wan says before his blue blade pierces through the darkness. 

        The humming weapon causes many of the children to flinch and huddle closer to you but you try not to pay any mind. At the moment, your attention is zeroing in on the one that needs your help the most.

Chapter Text

        On the ground is a young girl and to her side is another young child with a disgruntled expression, clearly in despair. You move closer and the children around you detach from your figure to let you move along. Some move to Obi Wan, wanting some sort of person to hold onto, but the rest either sit alone clutching to each other or follow behind you without touching you.

        You let your eyes scan the young body, and although you’re unfamiliar with any possible medical ailments of their species, you can tell that there’s something very, very wrong.

“S-she’s dying,” chokes out the child hovering over the other. There are tears streaming down her face and you feel your stomach drop. Children, though inexperienced and innocent as they may be, hold a great deal of knowledge in their minds.

        If this one was saying the other was dying, then that could be very well true.

        Quickly, you move your shaky hands to gently roll her onto her back as carefully as you can providing you with a view of the neck. From the little the group talked about before this mission was underway, this was the place you need to check first and foremost as it would answer some of the more burning questions circling your mind.

        Scratch not knowing any medical ailments, you know of one— the bite from one of those spiders. They aim for the neck, as most terrifying predators do, injecting a lethal poison. If not treated within six hours of the bite, the victim dies. Convenient for the spider but very bad for the victim.

“How long has it been?” you inquire softly, struggling not to let the adrenaline invade your voice. You didn’t want to scare the other children. “ Do you know?”

“We don’t know,” says one.

“I think she got bit a bit after we came in,” chimes in another.

        “A bit” after they came in? You received the call to investigate not too long ago, and when you arrived, the villagers told you that the last time people went missing was a mother and a child at around three hours after the notice was sent to you. Chances are, they’ve been gone for longer than that, which means that the child is dying now. She’s clearly on her last breaths and there’s nothing you can do once she’s reached this state. You don’t even think the Force could help her now.

“M-mama?” whispers out the young child. Her voice is soft yet coarse, nothing befitting a child. Yet, there doesn’t seem to be any pain behind the voice.

        Behind you, a child bursts into tears.

        You move closer and adjust the position that the child is in, letting out a deep breath as you do. With the young girl resting her head on your lap, you figure she’s a little more comfortable than before.

“You’re safe, young one,” you assure, placing a hand onto their forehead. It feels cold and clammy underneath your palm, and you want to pull away and hide from the certain death that hangs over her, but you know you can’t.

        You don’t really want to either. You can’t run from something like this, you know.

“Where’s… Mama?” cries out the child again, reaching out weakly with her hands, moving up only a few inches before they fell weakly onto her chest again.

“She’s…” is all you can manage at first. Where was her mother? Something told you that she was gone. “... safe. She’s just resting right now. She’s very tired.”

        You don’t like lying to the poor child, but at the moment she needs peace.

        Feeling past the almost physical darkness of the caverns, you could just barely sense the little Marker of the mother, but she was shrouded with almost the same kind of darkness around you. The young child didn’t need more grief. She needed some sort of peace before she passed.

        Another child starts wailing somewhere in the room before you hear a soft mumble reassuring them to the best of their ability. The light from the saber nearby wavers and it’s clear that Obi Wan’s trying his best with comforting the ones near him.

“I want to sleep too. I feel tired,” murmurs the child in your lap. Fatigue meant letting go and letting go means death. 

“Then sleep. Soon, you’ll be back with your mom, don’t you worry.”

        You can’t stop the words from trickling past your lips.

“I want a song. Mama always sings a song before bedtime.”

        You freeze at that and blink at the blank stare you’re receiving. You can see no light reflecting from the young child’s eyes. She’s close, you can feel it, and she has no more time left. She’s really clinging on, and if you think about it, she probably clung onto those excruciatingly long hours so faithfully that even the Jedi Council would feel some sort of something.

        You take in a deep breath, letting out the breath you dragged from the stale and terrible air, before you open your mouth again. An almost too soft sound of a song fills the silent air. It probably isn’t the song that she wants to hear and the singer definitely isn’t the singer she wants, but it’s still a singer singing a song. It’s something that you can give to her in her last moments. Maybe it’ll help with the passing and maybe it won’t.

        You sing as much as you can remember especially since it’s been so long since you’ve sung a song with lyrics and a tune from home. It’s an old song that’s stuck with you for a while now and you fill as much of the spaces with hope and love in order to fill the child with the same emotions. 

        It’s the least that you can do to lessen the burden of all of this.

        With the last notes passing comes the chilling air again. You lower your hand to press a finger gently to their wrist, and in the blue hued light, you can see that the child has their eyes closed. You know better than to think she’s asleep.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper softly brushing her messy hair back into place with a heavy heart, “I really am.”

        You feel hands grabbing at your clothing again and look up to see the children huddling around you. They’re shaking but a lot less than before. The hands, so small yet so strong, holding onto you for dear life while pleading for comfort again makes you feel horrible. 

        Such a cruel, cruel sight.

        Obi Wan’s blue lightsaber inches closer and his presence is reassuring.

“Sing again,” he whispers, “the younglings enjoy it.”

        There’s a strange amount of awe in his eyes, and you’re close to rejecting his suggestion, but you decide it’s better not to. Lifting your hands to rest on the hands gripping to you for their lives. You repeat the same notes again and notice their bodies relax. You can hear Obi Wan humming along softly after a little while with a hand over the shoulder of a young boy near him and a small feeling of serenity climbs into your heart at this, washing a calm over your shoulders.

        Perhaps this kind of stuff just comes with the job.

Chapter Text

“That was incredible,” you hear Obi Wan’s voice say, “I’ve never heard that song before.”

        When Mace and Qui Gon returned from their spider chase, they brought back two people, one dead and one alive. The one alive was the child who’d been dragged away. He had been bit, but we managed to leave the caves quickly enough for his treatment. The other was an older woman, covered in webbing that wasn’t completed as if the spiders wanted to at least start wrapping her but never got around to finishing. When you left the tunnel, you noticed her resemblance to the child that had died. 

        You all figured she was the mother.

        The children begged you to stay for the funeral, and after the adults demanded for the reason for the childrens’ behavior for wanting to keep you there, they insisted alongside them too. The funeral was quick, perhaps too quick, but it happened. Mace and Qui Gon left the attendance of the funeral to you saying that they hadn’t formed such a deep bond as you did and that they had some business to attend to prevent the spiders from doing more damage. Some children seemed rather attached to Obi Wan, so he stayed too, luckily.

        Once it ended, the adults detached the children’s hands from you and the two of you were free to leave after paying your respects. You gave the child’s and the mother’s graves a bow. The mother must’ve sacrificed herself for her daughter, only to have herself and her child bitten in the end. It’s a sad tale you were ultimately a part of. 

        Now, Obi Wan and you trek back to the ship, speaking only after a little while of silence. 

“Oh, uh, the song?” you question with your own brand of awe. It’s actually a little more like embarrassment and you laugh weakly.

“Where did you hear it?” Obi Wan continues with an odd amount of excitement.

“I don’t really remember,” you start with uncertainty, struggling to come up with a convincing lie on the spot, “there are some things I feel like I remember from before.”

        The mention of your past seems to make the strength of his energy falter, but the smile persists.

“To remember anything is great,” Obi Wan assures with a bright smile.

“I guess so,” you say before you realise how easily you divulged this information. “But don’t tell Master Windu or Master Jinn. I feel like they’ll bother me with too many questions again.”

        And being interrogated was not how you imagined your trip home to Coruscant.

“Of course,” Obi Wan assures before a silence befalls your surroundings.

        The wind rustles the leaves ahead slightly and animals in the distance cry out, but nothing else seems to drown in the heavy quiet. Suddenly, Obi Wan hums and you blink at his contemplative expression. 

“You should sing more often.”

“I don’t know about that,” you answer with a shake of your head. You really didn’t want to bring attention to this skill that Obi Wan seems insistent you continue making use of. “I’m not too sure about it…”

“That’s nonsense,” Obi Wan interjects with a frown and quite the disheartened tone

        You look over to see him frowning before it morphs into a light smile.

“Whether or not you’re good shouldn’t stop you from doing what you enjoy doing.” His smile turns into a grin and you can’t help but mirror it.

“I guess you’re right,” you mumble before receiving a light pat on the shoulder.

        You glance back to Obi Wan to see him smiling victoriously, as if he won some sort of great honour or something and something in your head clicks.

“But why do you care so much about my singing?”

        It clearly catches him by surprise and pieces of the puzzle that is Obi Wan at this moment seem to fall into place.

“Well, if you enjoy it, you should continue, right?”

“Do you sing, Obi Wan? Could you be trying to spread all the cheer that comes with singing?”

        You very clearly remember him joining alongside you with little hints and bits of singing, humming in the darkness in tune with you. You watch as his eyebrows furrow and blue-grey eyes dart about at your accusatory tone.

“I don’t sing, no, not at all.”

“So you do,” you conclude with a smile while he frowns. 

        His face is very quickly dusted with light pink and you laugh. You try to stifle it, but it still comes out, much to Obi Wan’s discontent.

“Come on, Obi Wan, your humming was great so I’m sure your singing is even better.”

        He seems to need a few moments before your words completely sink into his mind. You watch as his frown turns into a neutral expression and then one of bewilderment. It doesn’t take too long at that stage for an even darker shade of pink to settle. Neither does it take long for you to laugh at the reaction.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m sure it’s true!”

        You offer him a light nudge to the arm, hoping to lighten the mood for him to speak again past his surprise, but the words seem to be caught in his throat and nothing he tries to say comes out right. It’s all just all stutters and gibberish before he finally gives up with a soft grunt, still pink in the cheeks and glowering to the side.

        Even though the conversation has been derailed, you don’t regret the turn it took. The air around you sure feels a lot lighter than before, and that’s enough.

Chapter Text

        Time, from then on, speeds by. Life isn’t too hard but it isn’t easy either. Though, it is enjoyable to say the least. It’s easy to admit that being able to actually do things on the field rather than be trapped in a room learning your days away certainly is a bit more fun. With so much to do and so much to improve on, especially as it seemed as though the others were just a bit ahead on some aspect, there always seemed to be things to do. 

        It’s as they say— life carries on and obstacles that pop up need to be overcome.

        Just like the appearance of that trial meant for padawans. The one that’s meant to reveal to the testee what it is that most fear and what they must find a way to beat if they’re to be a Jedi in the future. Facing them, Mace explained, would help one be one step closer to becoming a Jedi. The explanation was sound, understandably, but also as cryptic as one might expect from Jedi, but it’s not like there was any reason to not believe him anyway.

        Surprisingly yet unsurprisingly, the actual experience was… bad. Completion was expected— rather, it was necessary. There was no way you could advance into the future without completing the test. In some way, something like this seriously came close to something like a life and death situation.

        In your case however, life and death would be replaced with progress and stagnation. And due to the course of this world, stagnation unfortunately also meant death. In the end, perhaps against all odds, you pass.

        Maybe the fear of stagnation drove you forward. Or maybe it was due to a fluke in the system or some opportunity that lit up from within that test. You can safely say that you managed to complete the test because all the Jedi Masters say you did and the records certainly list you as one of the successful attempts, but the worry of whether you really, really best your fears still lingers.

        You can feel the way it sits in the back of your head, almost literally as if it gained some sort of weight. Being a Jedi means that your emotions gain more being and you would be wrong to believe that all those negative parts of the mind and heart didn’t also gain such substance. So when that chill rushes up your spine or those whispers seem to creep out from the shadows, it’s best to assume that they’re really there. Watching and waiting for an opening.

        …

        For a mind to not have been exposed to the Jedi teachings at an early age when one might be able to find ways to beat such encroaching weakness, these fears are dangerous.

        But you’ve found a way to beat them before. All that’s left now is to do it again.

        Simple enough.

        With that settled and done, you could now consider yourself a Jedi. The very thought is like a revelation, lifting something off of your shoulders and bringing a sense of relief. Part of it might have been the relief of progress and the other might have been something deeper to tie you to this world. To finally feel as though you might be able to be here to stay as a part of this world and not just a foreign extension was… a nice feeling, overall.

        But something does worry you. A memory of that fateful day because upon leaving the site of your assessment, a dark labyrinth of some sort, the strange and pointed glance Mace gave you is no less than worrying. The thought of asking why he was regarding you like that was tempting, but the rest of the test continued on without waiting. Things like debriefs and lecture from Mace himself, who seemed to shake himself out of the confusion without any words from you.

        Perhaps you should have asked about it before it felt too late too, because upon returning to Coruscant, everyone took on the same sort of “looks,” and for much longer than Mace. They would glance over at your direction mid-action or conversation or their eyes would linger for longer than normal. All as if something caught their attention significantly enough to snap their focus out of order.

        But after admittedly so long, suddenly bringing up the topic would feel awkward, wouldn’t it?

        It was enough to disregard the looks for something ordinary, maybe. After all, it’s not as though you were a stranger to these sorts of looks. When your body was young enough to still be considered a youngling, you would garner this same sort of attention. This wasn’t anything new, but it was certainly a change in the ordinary since these looks have long since passed.

        Yet here they are again.

        Alongside such strange changes, the feeling of disconnection changed. It morphed into something a little less intense than the random bouts of feeling not quite here. But what this change meant escaped your grasp and the only thing about it that you knew for certain was that it started becoming apparent right after finishing the trial. It was like you connected to the world, but less on a subjective level and almost on a… physical level.

        Perhaps the elation that accompanied being given such a hefty title of “Jedi,” even if just a newly sprouted one, helped. Perhaps accepting this new life even more so than before as just another chapter of your life story helped.

        Maybe.

        Perhaps one day, complete integration in the ways of this strange world and the shedding of your older world will come next. Is that the end goal? To never go back home? 

        “I don’t know,” is the answer to that question asked within the confines of your mind. “Perhaps I do want to stay,” is the unhelpful add-on to that answer.

        Four years pass with that same sort of ambiguous back and forth. All the while, Qui Gon— who also joined the “weird look train”— appeared before you every so often. But just like Mace, it seemed easy for him to brush it off as… whatever. But Obi Wan was the elusive one, yet that might also be a given. After all, he must have better things to do than to spend his time entertaining a weird kid. If he wanted to have less to do with a younger Jedi-in-training, sure.

        Understandable.

        Despite that and the fact that the Jedi Temple is probably big enough to help fuel the coincidence of never seeing one specific person, things go wrong. Rounding the corner on the way to solo meditation practice all the while ignoring the eyes following your every movements, nightmare strikes.

        In the form of nearly colliding with someone coming the other way.

        Avoiding the potential of yet another aggravating strange look, it’s easy to keep your eyes looking a little more downwards with a hasty bow.

“I’m so sorry,” you make sure to say before taking a step back and away. “Excuse me.”

        The more quickly you’re able to leave the situation, the better.

“[Y/n]?”

        The sound of a familiar voice calling your name is a one-way ticket to melting away your temptations to leave. Looking up offers you a sight you haven’t seen in ages, and despite the fact the vague foreignness due to all those years apart, it’s still all too easy to know just who it is standing in front of you. It’s been years, yes, but a part of you finds that little about him has changed.

“Obi Wan?” A smile creeps onto your lips as a sense of relief washes over you. To know that the person you bumped into won’t hold that fact against you is a nice reassurance. ““I haven’t seen you for a while. How’ve you been?”

        Instead of answering as usual, he just… stares. Almost as if the words are trapped in his throat.

“Do you… know?” he asks you almost too simply.

        “Know?”

“‘Know’ what?” you echo in return.

        The confusion and overall negativity on his face seems to deepen before you can feel your relief begin to shrink away. The expression on his face is intense, and not a good way. Seeing as even Obi Wan freezes at the fact of… something, a part of you becomes resolved to figure out what’s wrong. Grabbing hold of Obi Wan’s sleeve, you’re able to drag him to the side of the hallway and out of the way of any main foot traffic. He seems a little reluctant to follow for some strange reason, but he follows along anyway.

        And that much is a reassurance for what might follow.

“What’s wrong? I’ve been getting those looks for the past two years.” Your gaze hardens towards Obi Wan. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

        Maybe it’s the pleading tone you use with him because the confused spell he seemed trapped in disperses. If only a bit.

“Well, it’s just that there’s something…” Obi Wan trails off, not knowing what to say until a few seconds later, “wrong. No, there’s something off about you.”

        Right. 

        He seems to have a lot of trouble, like he can’t figure out what he’s trying to articulate. Perhaps this is why many never approached this strange issue or maybe they thought you’d figure things out on your own. The only issue is, there’s nothing off about what you can feel.

“I don’t feel anything off,” is your response to his observation, watching as Obi Wan narrows his eyes to your words. “What exactly feels off? Could you describe it?”

“Well, it’s hard to describe. It’s as if you’re… empty, like there’s none of the Force within you,” he explains, only to snap his mouth shut as if something suddenly came to mind. “Well, no, that’s not quite right. There’s still some in you, of course, and I can sense the Force around you.”

        He takes this moment to pause and think a little harder.

“There just isn’t any within you. I don’t believe your midichlorians have disappeared as that would be unnatural and impossible,” he continues, and if his jumbled answer isn’t enough to tell you just how hard his head is working to put all of this into words, his expression is enough. “It’s as if the Force isn’t completely in you.”

        The answer easily sends your thoughts squirming. What does that even mean, this apparent sensation of emptiness? Is this the reason so many Jedi Masters and younglings alike have been staring? Panic soon joins in the fray as questions and speculations begin to crowd your mind. 

        Did Mace know the extent of all this?

        The question does nothing to appease your current state of mind. For him to know but not to have said anything is disheartening if not aggravating. But he probably had a reason. He has to have one. There’s no way he’d leave you, his Padawan, to blindly search around about something you had no idea about, right? There’s absolutely no way.

        Right?

Chapter Text

“[Y/n]? Are you alright?” 

        The voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you flicker your eyes upwards once again. Obi Wan stares on at you, but this time with less wariness and more concern. The change in tone helps swallow the fear down. So much so that you’re able to nod in response to his question.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just confused about what’s happening,” you confess, hoping to assure him with your words, but the expression that lingers on his face tells you otherwise. Perhaps your words sounded a bit too dismissive…

        Your eyes wander away, noticing two Jedi Masters glancing over as they walk past. Their eyes don’t linger for too long, which is nice, and they soon return to each other to continue their interrupted conversation from before. Your worries return at full blast, yet concentrating on the Force that you can feel circling around you tells you it’s there and that things are alright. Drawing it in just as you always have been doing provides you with the same familiar feeling.

        Empty of the Force… Gently tugging the Force around you this way and that, your thoughts shift to action rather than theory work. If being empty is really the case, then there’s only one thing to do with a container that’s empty. And with the hallway now as empty as it can be, it’s the best time for a quick check-in.

“What are you trying to do?”

        Your eyes stick to the sight of the floor in your concentration, only doing enough to offer Obi Wan a quick side long glance. “Testing something,” you say simply.

        You can feel power swirling around you, gathering in the masses. It’s easier to do now despite the many earlier years of it being so difficult, and you can feel the way it shrouds you with a comforting and heavy presence as if it felt bad that it had rid you of itself. In fact, it almost feels as though it’s rushing to you, making it easier for you to use like it’s trying to compensate it’s absence. The Force is sentient, so there’s no telling what it might actually be doing.

“It looks as if you can still use the Force,” Obi Wan comments from your side, sounding a little less heated with worry but still a tad worried, and you nod in agreement.

        But if there was any issue with that, you’d have noticed that something was off right away. This “normal” has nothing wrong with it. Meaning, you have to go a little deeper. Somewhere further out of plain sight. Closing your eyes as you calm every sense, you try to reach a little deeper for just a second. Just to check.

“[Y/n]? What are you doing?”

        You shush him softly, maintaining your concentration all the while as you prepare to draw some of it inwards rather than cycling it around you as usual. Theoretically, this should work. If you’re empty as Obi Wan said, then you should be able to fill yourself up again.

        Your breaths become as calm as they can be and the thoughts in your heads slow from their crazed dance as you begin pulling the Force in. There’s no need to shape the Force into something to hide within, instead all you do is pull and pull as if the power is but a rope being drawn in and coiled within you until you reach a state of fullness rather than the current emptiness.

        So you keep going. Going, going, and going because there’s got to be a limit, which should be that fullness you’re looking for. After just dealing with the staring and the confusion, you’re determined to just find an out now, but just pulling this metaphorical rope seems as though you’re just waiting for something without an end.

        As if it just goes on for forever.

“[Y/n]!”

        The voice seems so viscerally there, and so much so that the sound of your name shatters your concentration in heartbeats. Your eyes flutter open in seconds, but all that greets you is the sight of blindingly bright lights. You can hear voices all around you, but it’s hard to make anything out past the patchy sounding… sounds. You know that you’re safe regardless of what you can see— or can’t see— considering the fact that you’re in the Jedi Temple with Obi Wan, so that helps relax you a bit.

        But only a bit.

        You try to blink out the dazzling lights, assuming that it might be a temporary thing, but it’s either an extremely slow process to clear it all up or it doesn’t let up at all because nothing seems to change no matter how many times you blink it all away. You’re left to reach out for a moment without anything registering within your sight, as if grasping for something to remind you that you’re truly in a place that’s tangible and there.

“[Y/n]! Are you alright?”

        That voice is relatively clear and you’re sure it’s Mace.

        You’re not entirely sure if the sensation of speaking or trying to speak is even producing any words, but you’re able to relax knowing that Mace is around. And the more you relax, the more you’re able to understand that everything just feels so… calming. Warmth envelops your body both inside and out in a way you feel as thought you’ve gotten hints of before. It’s a strange feeling, mostly, as though something much bigger than any simply living being is there wrapping itself around you.

        Something… less living but still there.

        …

        The Force?

        You try to reach out to Mace, but not with your hands. With your senses instead, as all young padawans are taught to do, but all that you receive in return is virtually no feedback. It’s as though something is causing that connection to be jammed in some way. The only thinking you can really perceive is the vague sensation of reaching out with your hands and the bright lights in your eyes. And perhaps breathing and feeling too, but you’re quite sure you wouldn’t be alive if you weren’t breathing and the general feeling of touch is spotty at best.

        So you push your mouth to speak. Before, you weren’t really sure if anything was slipping past your lips, but now it’s as though a window of opportunity has opened up for you because you can feel the movement of speech all too clearly. 

“Master Windu? Are you here?”

        And you can hear yourself speak like normal.

        You’re pretty sure your hand is blindly reaching out before something else grasps it, enveloping your searching hands within another. With the sensation of physical contact reaching your head, you begin blinking again.

        Still, the lights aren’t leaving you be.

“Do you understand what’s happening, [y/n]?”

        That would be a hard and resounding “no” and you would shake your head if it weren’t for the fact that you weren’t sure if you could even do that.

        So you settle with just saying, “no.”

        The hand that’s around yours tightens for a second. You can only assume that the one holding your hand as if to maintain your hold on reality must be Mace’s. It’s not as though there’s anyone here to take your hand if not for Mace.

“Well, I don’t know either,” Mace continues rather unhelpfully, but at least he sounds calm. “But whatever you were doing, I believe you’ve— for lack of a better term— overloaded.”

        Oh.

        Well, that means you’ve gotten too full, right? Digging deep within yourself again, you can see what he means by that. It certainly feels like a cramped space with too much whipping about within you.

“Master Windu, this makes no sense—”

“We must get to the infirmary—”

“—at the infirmary, we can tend—”

“—requires attention—”

        It seems the window of hearing grows large because the sound of a myriad of voices manage to sneak their way through. The sudden wave of all of this leads you to bull away as much as you can, inwardly cringing at the onslaught of perception. The hand from before pulls away, leaving you in a state of limbo for just a second before hands seem to envelop your shoulders. You’re not sure where the person is and the fact that you’re completely disoriented isn’t very helpful at all, so you try your best to just look up.

        Because that’s something, at the very least.

“It’s alright, [y/n],” reassures a soft whisper of a voice. “You’ll be alright.”

        It’s Obi Wan.

        You blink again, and though all that you can see is the strange white light that’s starting to be more annoying than concerning, knowing that he’s there, not involved with the argument happening in your peripherals, makes his presence so much more comforting. Closing your eyes from the white brings back the silence of the darkness behind your eyelids and you let out a sigh.

        All seems… alright for a moment. As if things can be— 

“Now, what do we have here?”

        The voice, with no real… identifiable character to back it up, hits you like a freight train. Where did that come from? Because it certainly doesn’t sound like the other voice around you. Who was it, because again, it doesn’t sound like the people with you.

        In any case, with a frigid chill racing through your body, it’s a sign to try and find some way out of this mess. Least of all subject yourself to welcoming some entity into your mind at the moment.

        Which would be very, very bad.

        Quelling your thoughts with the goal of getting out of all of this in mind, you try to search around for something like a magical lever or whatever to turn this all off. It’s within this calm that you can feel something blinking within you like a lighthouse in the distance of a fog. 

        The churning sensation of a chaotic storm within you that you felt before… it feels like a churning sea. Splashing all around and spilling over, you’re sure that the spillage isn’t enough to empty what you’ve taken in, but that’s not what you focus your attention on.

        Rather, what you focus on is the fact that it all feels so rough. The Force isn’t usually so choppy like a storming sea, so it might be… worthwhile to try and calm it? You’re not entirely sure, but whatever conclusions to come to can’t make things worse than they already are. It’s probably worth attempting something.

        Before that strangely cold yet molten voice comes back.

        So you switch your attention to calming the wild currents within, smoothening each and every disturbance before moving onto the next miniscule chaos and then the next. It’s a slow process and you’re not entirely sure how any of this is working out, but it works regardless of how you’re feeling. All that it seems to need is that gentle touch of soothing the irritated bits until it all becomes something like an untouched lake far beyond reach.

        And just like that, blinking open grants you the gift of sight again. Seeing colour again is strange and you blink again to try and clear away the discomfort of having been deprived of the real world for such a short yet long time. You look up from the sight of the ground, noting the fact that the many voices hadn’t hauled you off to the infirmary area to be treated for whatever that was.

        Your eyes creep up higher than just your own hands previously gathered at your lap and you see many Jedi Masters staring back at you with puzzled expressions. At the sight of you looking up, it seems that such purposeful movements bring ease to their tense shoulders because many of them sigh with relief.

        Huh…

        The memory of the strange voice lingers, but that’s not what troubles you the most at the moment. Honestly, you’re quite willing to chalk all that to whatever the Force did you to.

“Is something like this bad?” you find yourself wondering aloud.

        This strange ability… It seems it’s entirely within your ability to take in the Force and quell it as if to make it your own. That would make you pretty powerful, wouldn’t it? You’re no longer troubled by the boundaries of your own body. Now, it’s like you have the world at your fingertips just waiting for you.

        That would normally be bad, right?

“Only if used incorrectly,” answers a voice, mimicking your thoughts exactly. You look up to see Mace staring back with a stern expression, though the swirl of concern fluttering off of him is there too.

        You watch as he stands up from his kneeling position, apparently relieved enough to shift away. When you realise that you too are on the ground, you make a move to stand up only for a hand to enter your line of sight, followed by the sight of Obi Wan smiling with his hand held out.

        It’s all too easy for you to accept the offer, nodding your thanks with a tap of gratitude to Obi Wan’s mental shields. He beams at that gesture, almost greedily taking up the warmth you offer towards him. It’s a heartwarming thing to know that after so long, he’s not shying away from your presence. It’s even better to know that he’s always willing to reach out with a hand towards your direction.

        The voice you’d heard fades away, replacing itself with the comfort of Obi Wan’s camaraderie and the general feeling of relief from everyone else who seems happy to see that your problem is more or less solved. The hand that so kindly helped you up pulls away without remaining as you might’ve liked, but that’s fine. Even if that were to be the case henceforth, it’s fine.

        You probably could never reject his hands. Especially not if he’s the one offering first.

Chapter Text

“Do you still feel it?”

        It’s been hours since that strange Force episode and the sun has long set over the seeable horizon. The Coruscanti night sky is lit with the few stars that manage to peek out from the ashen sky. Normally, clouds blot out the skies to render the view of those stars so visible up in a ship almost unattainable from down here. However, tonight it seems there are a few patches scattered about to let in the shiny blinking of the stars.

“The Force within you?” Obi Wan questions, and when you nod in response to his correct guess, he hums. Blinking with narrowed eyes, Obi Wan concentrates for a second before finally shaking his head. “No, I only feel you and the emptiness now.”

        And so everything has turned to normal. Judging from everyone else as well earlier in the day, it seems that this strange emptiness has been accepted now. All it took was the strangest development of your abilities that not even the wisest of Jedi Masters could even explain. In all honesty, it makes some sense that a bigger surprise would scare them into thinking that the earlier oddness was actually fine and okay.

“Maybe I integrated it into myself but never really filled myself,” is your only explanation to the fleeting nature of what had happened. Relaxing in your spot next to Obi Wan without awkwardly staring at him, you try to wrap your own head around the situation that has come to pass. “You think I’ll be like this forever?”

“Not entirely, no,” he answers, and out of the corner of your eyes, you can see him leaning closer as if to get a better look at you. “I don’t think it will remain a bad thing forever.”

        Whether you like it or not, your eyes dart towards his movements. When he catches your gaze finally looking his way, he smiles one of his magically attractive smiles that find it all too easy to bring a smile to your face as well.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to learn more of your power the more you practice,” Obi Wan assures you. “Perhaps, one day it will become your greatest strength. A strength that no other Jedi will have ever heard of or imagine having.”

        It’s wishful thinking, but to know he holds you to such positivity brings out a sheepish laugh from you as your mind fumbles with the suddenly promising words. All you can really do in response is pull your eyes away from Obi Wan for a moment, mostly out of fear of staring too long and because you’re not entirely sure of what to say to such high praise. 

        It doesn’t take long before you hear him chuckle into the night sky and feel something bumping against your arm. Looking over, you see that his face is far too close for comfort and a shoulder hovering just short of your own arm.

“There’s no reason to be fearful of your power. I know I’m not,” Obi Wan reassures you as confidence fills his sight filled with only you to the point where you can see yourself reflecting off of him. “It is your power, after all.”

        The first thing you do is shy away your gaze, feeling a bit bashful and severely out of place under the spotlight of his eyes. “I… Thank you.”

        You can feel him moving away and a part of you feels regret for having ran from his gaze. It’s for the best, yes, since he’ll have Satine in the future if all goes well, but there’s no stopping the way your heart seems to lurch itself into a bit of a tantrum. 

        …

        No time to be wishing and hoping like this, you figure.

“We are friends and of course I believe in your abilities,” Obi Wan reassures you with a bright tone. “If I didn't believe in you, that would make me quite a terrible friend.”

        A laugh bubbles up from you at such a comment, lighting up the mood far more than your own busy mind could. To that, you make sure to thank him, if only in the confines of your mind.

“I suppose you aren’t wrong.”

        Sharing such a moment together and laughing in the peace of night makes it feel as though you two hadn’t just met up with each other for the first time in a while. The familiarity squeezes your heart, but it’s not all that bad. It certainly does make you feel happy to know that you’re still able to have such a special moment with him. You know that it won’t always last and that things won’t always be like this, but for the moment you can safely say that you’re happy and satisfied. To have something is better than having nothing at all.

        Or maybe having nothing is better than having too much yet too little. Maybe you’re just making it harder for you to let him go into the future. You can already imagine just how many pieces your heart will shatter into upon seeing him leave at Satine’s side. 

        In the end, you still do this. Letting him in and keeping as tight of a hold on him as you can for momentary happiness. At the very least, you can be glad to know that you’ll still have these memories to fall back on when all you’ll have is your shared past.

Chapter Text

        Another normal day, another mission to be completed. This time, you’re quite lucky to catch a break from being in Mace’s occasionally scathing presence, as he’s prone to be a bit intimidating at times, to be assigned on a mission with Obi Wan instead. Apparently, the masters wanted to see how you two would fare on a mission of your own, especially considering how promising of Jedi the two of you were growing into.

        The mission is relatively simple, in any case. The two of you need to go check up on a planet that had somewhat recently taken off, as in the variety in life present there ranging from non-sentient to sentient life. Sometime ago, one species wanted the planet to join the Republic as a very young member, mostly for protection and the possibility of trade and commerce, but noted that they would solidify that agreement once they could become allies with the other race of sentients on the planet. However, that last part didn’t go smoothly so help from the Jedi Order was requested.

        Presently, you and Obi Wan are relaxing in a much larger ship than a starfighter as it guides you through hyperspace. A rumble and a string of warning beeps signal the ship leaving hyperspace, and once it stabilises after such a shift, you feel relief at the sight of nothing jumping forward to attack you.

        Not that there really is anything out here that could be planning to attack you out here, especially at this time period.

“Well, I took care of getting off the ground and flying through hyperspace,” you say, looking over at Obi Wan sitting on the seat next to yours. “It’s your turn for the rest.”

“I still don’t understand exactly why you cannot fly the rest of the way,” Obi Wan notes with a teasing smile directed towards you.

        At the very least, the prospect of flying the rest of the way doesn’t seem to bother him all that much. 

“The asteroid belt that we have to fly by has me worried.” Just the thought of manning this entire ship with just steers and buttons worries you due to the fact that your flying could… use a bit more practice. 

        It isn’t your fault how strange it feels to be flying a huge ship when all you’ve been mostly familiar with your life is cars, bikes, and the like. Something about ships is a little… much.

“I don’t exactly have the confidence to get us past that,” you add, hoping that Obi Wan would feel bad enough to take over without any more issue.

“And you suppose I do?” Obi Wan asks with curiosity as if he were going to fight you on this, but he stands up regardless. 

“You have more confidence in flying than I do, trust me,” you reassure him, chuckling all the while at the amusement written clearly on his face. 

        Standing up from your spot in the pilot’s seat, you shuffle along the edge of the control panel in order to let Obi Wan take the seat you're giving up.

        Then, suddenly the ship lurches downwards and something collides into your body, pinning you against the control panel while trapping you at the sides. The collision sends the air in your lungs rushing straight out too quickly for comfort with a grunt and you look up to see Obi Wan looking down in surprise. It’s easy to notice how close his body is to yours and the temperature of the ship suddenly feels so much warmer than you remember it being.

        The ship rights itself before anything can be said between the two of you, rising back into a straight line, and you frown. Looking past Obi Wan, you can see the conical astromech mech connected to a port at the back of the cockpit and it’s clear who the culprit of this awkward situation is.

“R15, did something happen?” you ask curiously, assuming that there must’ve been a reason for such a lurch. 

        The droid chirps once in indignation, sounding as though it were being accused of a great crime despite you not wanting to make it seem like you were doing that.

“There was a stray asteroid, [y/n]. Luckily for us, R15 must have been waiting in case something like that happened,” explains Obi Wan, who had the privilege to be looking out of the windows behind you.

        Alright then…

“Well, in that case, sorry about that, R15,” you make sure to say. “Thank you, you saved us there.”

        R15 lets out a series of chirps and then wheels away, strangely quick to run, leaving you in your weird position with Obi Wan. Looking away from the door, your eyes can’t help but wander their way up Obi Wan’s chest to get to his face, only to meet with eyes you never noticed were staring down at you already.

“Uh, I don’t mean to say I’m uncomfortable— I’m not, at least not a lot — but are you sure you’re comfortable?” you inquire with a soft tone and the grace of an elephant in a tea shop.

        Although your cheeks feel warm with blood pumping through your veins like lava, it’s true that you don’t necessarily hate the position. It certainly feels… nice to be in such a position even though it feels as close to forbidden as forbidden could be, but… Well, you just know that you shouldn’t be indulging in things like this. Least of all with Obi Wan. There’s a reason it’s “forbidden” and you know that very well.

        You watch for what feels like forever as Obi Wan just blinks in his spot. You’re not entirely sure if he’s looking for something or trying to sense something, which might be a good explanation for this sudden freeze-up, but you’re not sure which one is the truth. Or if either of those two are the truth. And that’s when the alarm kicks in.

        Is there something wrong with Obi Wan?

“Obi Wan?” you call out softly, and when he flinches into attention, you feel relief wash over you. It’s good to know that he’s back in reality, to say the least.

“Oh, yes, sorry [y/n].” He moves away from his place, letting you continue on to your new seat. 

        Once you feel the seat cushion your fall, you’re happy that such a strange situation has passed, but that only makes more room for worrying over Obi Wan’s current wellbeing.

“Are you feeling alright?” You turn so that your eyes are staring at Obi Wan’s side profile.

        His hands move over the dashboard and you can see the way his eyes glance over towards your direction. “Yes, I’m fine,” he answers curtly.

        Perhaps it’s the vague sense that you get of him lying to cover up the truth that leaks onto your face, but something makes him look away to his hands with a clearing of his throat.

“Don’t worry about me,” he assures simply.

        It’s clear that he’s hiding something and so you don’t buy it. Not one bit. The muscles of your face scrunch up a bit and you’re displeased with his quick answer. You can see him looking over again as if to gauge your expression, and whatever he finds leads him to smile that same smile he always sends you. 

        Perhaps he’s actually… fine.

“If you say so,” you’re left to say reluctantly, “but if you need to talk, I’m here for you.”

“Of course.”

Chapter Text

        The rest of the trip to the planet’s surface is spent in silence. Sure you could start a conversation to fill the very awkward and slowly burning void, but you just can’t find the voice to speak up, let alone the right topic to talk about. Everything just feels so stifling and suffocating that doing nothing feels easier.

        But Obi Wan is different. He likes conversation, at least with you from what you’ve noticed. With you, especially when alone with plenty of room and freedom to chat about nearly anything, he seems to like chatting and filling the empty air with his and your voices. At the moment, however, that doesn’t seem like it’s the case. Instead, you’re left to stew on in silence. From landing the ship to speaking with the locals that you meet right after exiting the ship, everything is in silence between the two of you.

        It feels wrong but there’s not a lot that you can do about it, and the longer the silence carries on, the harder it is to bring anything up. 

        But at least the fact that there’s a mission at hand helps fill the emptiness a bit… 

“They no want talk,” explains one sentient, looking like some sort of lion-like humanoid.

        The way it’s jaw is structured makes it seem like speaking Basic with you is way harder than one might assume, and considering the fact that they seem to have their own language between themselves, one can only praise them for taking the time to learn this much Basic.

“Hear about Jedi coming. Only talk you now,” adds another.

“If that’s the case, then we will speak with them,” Obi wan assures, turning to the ship with a glance towards you.

        And you’re about to follow along with Obi Wan, but the sudden movement of the one you were speaking to at first brings you to a full stop immediately.

“No flying beast!” they shout quickly. “Want you walk to village. Here, map for walking, in device.”

        Huh… Well, there’s nothing to do but fulfill the request. It would certainly make for easier negotiations, if anything.

        One of them reaches out to you with their long arms, opening long fingers curled over their palm to reveal a paw with a small object that looks like a holograph device. With nothing else but to take the device, you nod to the golden eyes watching you carefully.

“A walk can’t be too bad, Obi Wan. I’m good with calming non-sentients, so walking there is basically no threat to us if we take the land route.” You look hopefully towards your partner and Obi Wan nods.

“It would not do well to anger the locals for the sake of convenience, so it may be best to do as they request,” he says, smiling towards the lion-like humanoids. “How far is the village?”

“No far! No far!” pipes up a few of the locals. 

        Obi Wan nods in understanding, looking towards you and looking down to the device. You press the button situated in the centre and immediately a blue hued map jumps into view. The edges make a rectangle that details a relatively straight line to an “x” somewhere south. The map is so detailed that it shows all topographical features of the area in 3D— shrubbery, mountain ranges, and all. The entire route seems to travel along a mountain path far from the path through the forested areas or even the flat land running along the sides of the forest.

“Why does the path go along the mountain instead of here?” you inquire curiously, gesturing to the easier path through the forest and plains.

“Water fall from sky bad! Let touch skin and body warm no more,” explains the one that had handed you the device.

        You nod in understanding. That certainly is a strange feature and you’re sure you’ve read that in the documents lent out to you to read on the trip here.

“Caves in mountain good shelter. And this keep warm if water touched,” advises another before they unfurl the fingers of their two hands towards Obi Wan, showing him a small cylindrical capsule. “Press open and gives you warm.”

        The sentient presses a finger onto the top and when they pull away, a portion of it springs up into the air, sounding and looking like a toy hammer being smashed against a surface. Remaining popped up, it reveals a large coil that starts emitting a glow. When you step closer, you’re suddenly hit with quite a strong warmth from the device. The finger appears again, pressing itself onto the top and pushing it back down into the base. With a resounding click, the warmth dissipates from the air.

“Then we’re all set?” You turn to Obi Wan watching him take the device from the sentient’s hand and pocketing it in his robes. When he turns back to you, he offers a nod of affirmation.

        You’re just about to take a step along again, before— 

“Wait, wait! Need gift for tribe!” exclaims one new voice.

        The two of you turn to the direction of the voice to see a smaller sentient rushing over. They stop in front of the both of you without so much as a single heavy breath before holding a hand out in front of you specifically. Being offered to you is an intricately carved piece of wood shaped into something like a person but without legs, just a long dress that cascades to the ground. There are gems adorning the statuette down the front of the dress, glistening iridescently under the sunlight.

        Taking the object from the new arriver, you make sure to nod to them your thanks and they repeat the motion. It’s only when you turn to Obi Wan with it in your hand that he reaches out to take it off your hands, probably to pocket it in his robes rather than trouble yours.

“Alright, R15, stay with the ship. We should be back soon,” you relay towards the droid standing at the ramp of the ship.

        You can hear the droid chirp rather enthusiastically before turning around and retreating into the safety of the ship. There’s really nothing to be afraid of here from all the previous reports and work done on the progress of the planet, but a droid might still fear whatever has avoided documentation lurking within the foliage. It must know that this place might not be the best place to be wheeling about.

“We better get going,” Obi Wan starts, bringing your attention to him rather than R15. “It will get dark soon, but judging by the map, we should at least reach the village before nightfall if we’re quick.”

        He points towards a direction in the horizon where the sun threatens to dip over the mountainscape far, far away. A shared look passes before the two of you start making your way to the outskirts of the village and up the path that’s supposed to lead you to the mountain side trail. Just like before, the walk is silent with you in the lead to guide Obi Wan along as you have the map.

“You know,” suddenly starts Obi Wan. He doesn’t sound out of breath but the way he says it makes it sound like his mind isn’t all that centred on the here and now. “It’s hard to believe you are so much younger than I.”

        Curious about the sudden topic, you turn your head around to stare. You can feel the questioning expression creep onto your face at the sudden mention of your age and maturity. You don’t stare for too long lest you want a mouth full of rocks, but even while turned around to the path ahead, you nod.

“Actually, when I first met Master Jinn and Master Windu in the Halls of Healing,” you begin carefully, making sure not to give away too many details that might spell your doom, “Master Jinn mentioned that it was like I was a completely different person than the one he found.”

        Obi Wan seems to take a moment to digest that. “You don’t speak much about your past.”

“Well, you never ask.”

        The comment might be taken as scathing, but you’re sure you used a casual tone. Still, you turn after saying those words, smiling innocently at the man who only frowns. You can hear him grunting as he lifts his body over a particularly rocky outcrop, finally looking away from you to concentrate where he’s placing his feet and hands.

        And when he finally stands up again with eyes directed towards mine, he smiles oh-so simply. “We have all the time in the world now, I suppose. Would you like to share your life story?”

        You can only wonder why he suddenly grows so curious, but there’s nothing to do about that but ask him or theorize. You certainly don’t want to be prying in his reasons why he pries into your backstory. That just sounds like a recipe for brewing ill feelings between the two of you.

“You only need to ask, Obi Wan. I might not have all the answers, but only you have the questions,” is what you decide on, ready to dodge any questions that might grab at a little too much from you.

        You continue to march along the mountainside, listening to the natural world breathing around you while Obi Wan grows quiet as if to come up with the best questions he can create to get the most out of you or something. Or perhaps he’s lining them all up in a row like fake ducks to shoot.

“Then about your maturity,” starts Obi Wan and you hum to the start to dangerous territory.

“Not much to say. I don’t really have an explanation myself,” you answer pretty easily, especially considering the practice you’ve gotten from side stepping Mace and Qui Gon’s own curiosities. “It’s just that I don’t feel like the age of my body.”

        The vague answer might’ve angered anyone else, but Obi Wan seems to chuckle behind you at such a seemingly simple answer. Perhaps he truly believes such a silly answer, but you would never know for sure.

“You have always been quite the mystery,” Obi Wan murmurs, sounding like he’s speaking to himself and to you at the same time.

“Does it bother you?” You spare a glance behind you towards the young man as you stop in the middle of the path. “That I have so little answers?”

“It does, but only when I try to understand,” Obi Wan answers just as cryptically. There’s not a whole lot of emotion in his words for you to read into, but it’s enough of an answer.

        And that’s enough for you for the moment. Smiling, you turn around to continue making good time along the path. If night fell, that would be bad, and if you were unlucky enough to get caught out here with a sudden downpour, it’d be even worse.

        Still, the way he seems to give up after such an answer that’s so unpleasant for someone seeking answers would make anyone think that he might’ve been expecting such a dodgy answer. The entire trip so far has mostly been him just keeping quiet and thinking to himself as if he’s got a lot on his plate. Could his mind be haunted by something he hasn’t talked about?

        …

        Could it be about what happened before on the ship when it lurched? After all, the two of you had a pretty regular conversation during hyperspace travel. Just not so much afterwards.

“Is there something specific bothering you?” you ask in hopes to dispel some of his worries in the time that you have together without any other prying ears around.

“Yes.”

        And that’s a start, but he doesn’t say anything more after that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you poke on. You can’t help the man without knowing what might be bothering him.

“It’s not something I would like to discuss, no.”

        Oh. Well… Okay then.

Chapter Text

        You stop in any case, turning around to see Obi Wan stop too to stare from just a few steps away. With the sun shedding light on Obi Wan as he stands in front of the beautiful backdrop of the horizon, he looks even more incredible than usual. The aching in your heart returns so faithfully and you have to choke back the feelings that start to rise up your throat so that they aren’t noticed by the man just standing there.

        But what you do have the confidence to do is take a step towards Obi Wan, and then another, and then one more, until you’re finally standing in front of him with eyes locked with his. You’re quite lucky that in your approach, he didn’t find reason to back away, otherwise you’d eventually lose the progress you’d made along the mountain path.

        Another strike of confidence leads you to reach out with a hand, resting it against his arm before trying on a smile. “Then, if you ever need an ear or a shoulder, know that I’m here to be either.”

        There’s nothing to be gained if you tried to pry the answers from him. That much you know for sure.

        Fortunately for you, it seems like you picked the right path because Obi Wan gives you a small smile that seems warm enough to melt the coldest of ice if you had any on hand. You’re able to take his answer gleefully before turning away so that you can continue forward again and return to the quiet trek once more. Based on what you can see on the map, the rest of the route shouldn’t take too long as you’re already halfway through the suggested trail. If you keep moving at the pace you’re at, you’re sure to make it to the village in no time.

        So as long as there aren’t any interruptions.

        ooooouuuu…

        Which of course there are to be some.

“Since you’ve stopped, I’m assuming that you heard the same thing,” you hear Obi Wan comment lowly and you look over to see that he’s moved forward. He plants himself close to you, certainly to keep you safe, with eyes scanning the area.

        Your eyes follow suit, taking in the scenery around you. There’s no sign of anything from what you can tell. By the looks of it, everything looks peaceful and undisturbed, but even that begins to itch at your sense of alarm.

        If there’s something out there, what is it? Because it could very well be a creature of some sort. Based on the records, something like that might be out there, but you’re not sure. You’re pretty sure there shouldn’t be anything that can make such a sound, and if Obi Wan hasn’t mentioned it yet either, then you’re inability to remember anything isn’t because you just missed an entry in your read-through.

“Could it be the other village?” Obi Wan voices aloud, shifting in his spot nearby you. “We do not mean any harm!”

        Nothing responds.

“You have the gift? Maybe we should show it off. The gems should catch their attention and see it from wherever they are—” You pause and look around again— “ if they’re really here, that is.”

“It’s worth a try,” Obi Wan murmurs in agreement, reaching into his robes. You watch in anticipation as he pulls out the statuette to hold it up.

“We’re Jedi! We’re here to speak to you on behalf of the other village!” you make sure to declare with a loud voice.

        Still, nothing responds and the strange horn sounds again. A chill runs down your spine when a breeze accompanying the sound rushes past you. Taking in a deep breath, it helps calm your nerves.

“Stay calm,” you hear a voice whisper from behind and you take a step back closer to the safety of the mountain wall behind you.

        You continue walking, hoping to make it to a point where the only point of attack is above, at the sides, or in front of you, but instead you feel your body bumping into something warm. The warmth doesn’t pull away or try to avoid your touch, and knowing that Obi Wan is close to keep an eye on your blind spot allows you to relax. You’re starting to feel really grateful that Obi Wan’s here with you.

“Could it be a non-sentient?” you suggest quietly, glancing out towards the forested area to the side of the mountain pass.

“It is a possibility,” you hear Obi Wan whisper closely to your ear.

        Had it not been for the alarming situation, you might’ve made a bigger deal about him being so close, but instead you settle with simply flinching.

“Let’s stick near the wall then,” you decide, taking hold of Obi Wan’s sleeve and pulling him along with you. He follows without another word, keeping close and careful as you continue towards relative safety.

        The strange blowing sound keeps drifting along the wind, becoming louder sometimes and softer other times, as progress is made with each step. After a while, your alarm melts into full paranoia. You fear what could be advancing towards you and the close distance you have with Obi Wan seems to help cope.

        krnk knkl knk

        Your head whips around at the new sound. From what it sounds like, you know that it came from a pretty faraway place, but something about it seems to say that it isn’t terribly far. You wait for a moment, trying to catch anything of that sound again before something does happen in the form of something falling onto the crown of your head, rebounding off and onto the ground. You look up with confusion fueling your actions.

        And that’s when your heart drops at the sight of something large teetering forward, warning all that could see that something is indeed coming.

        You waste no time in warning Obi Wan or directing his gaze upwards, simply resorting to grabbing his robes and tugging him along into a cave entrance nearby. Unfortunately, luck doesn’t seem to be completely on your side because the speed of your movements and the actual weight of the unsuspecting Obi Wan clashes quite terribly, sending you tumbling to the ground with Obi Wan following after you.

        Your back collides with the rocky floor and something heavy falls over top of you— Obi Wan, probably. From what it sounds like, chaos surrounds you in a storm of cacophonous sounds of loud crashing. To make matters worse, the ground below you feels like it’s bouncing up and down, slamming against your already sore back. All you can do is close your eyes and hold onto the cloth still in your hands tightly while waiting out whatever is happening.

        And pray that whatever is happening won’t be a danger to the two of you.

        It soon comes to a still, paving the way for a gentle pitter-patter that drowns the world’s silence. Judging by the sound of that, it seems like it’s raining. Which is fine, because the two of you are in a cave. The bad thing about being in a cave right now is the fact that even after opening your eyes, you can’t see any light.

“[Y/n], are you alright?”

        Obi Wan’s voice cuts through the silence in a way that brings you more relief than the silence and you feel him shifting off of you. 

“Yeah I’m—” You cough out lightly as you ease yourself up off the rocky ground— “I’m good.”

        Sitting up, your eyes blink against the darkness around you. Confusion settles in your mind as you try to figure out what just happened, and when you notice that there isn’t an entrance anywhere to be seen anymore, you manage to piece together what you’d seen before rushing Obi Wan along.

“There was a rockfall, Obi Wan,” you relay to the man. “It looks like we’re trapped inside now.”

        There isn’t all that much light filtering through the newly created rock wall, but you can make out the sight of Obi Wan shuffling around.

“We should clear the entrance if that’s the case,” Obi Wan suggests and the sound of some more shuffling fills the air.

“All right, let’s try that.”

        The loss of your vision kicks your sense into using the Force and you noticed Obi Wan reaching out for you. His hand lands on your shoulder in a way that seems a bit too light and gentle with fingers trailing down your arm. You shiver under the sudden touch, wondering just what he’s doing in the darkness, and it’s not until his hand finally stops with fingers closing around your wrist because as gently as ever, he lifts your body off the floor. 

        You offer him your thanks and he answers with his typical, “my pleasure,” like the gentleman he is.

        But you are thankful. Rolling your eyes and also grateful for the darkness that hides you so well, you turn to the entrance. You can tell it’s the entrance, with the little holes in between the boulders letting in light through, and you lift your hands towards it.

“Shall we?”

“Ready when you are.”

        Concentrating on the individual boulders, you try to rein in the few of them that Obi Wan doesn’t have wrapped around within his influence, gripping them with the Force swirling around your fingertips and offering him your support.

“On three?” Obi Wan suggests.

“Sounds good.”

“One… Two… Three!”

        The Force grabs at the rocks you have power over once the last number slips past Obi Wan’s lips, and the combined strength of the two of you seems to work. Light spills in as the boulders are shifted out of the way, and as you’re watching them move, you can see the sky filled with little clear droplets falling from the sky. 

        You were right, it’s raining.

        Then the weird horn sounds again and you notice the tops of the trees swaying in the wind soon after the sound fills the air. It’s strange, to say the least. The sound followed the movement of the wind earlier as well… 

        You pull back to your focus on the rocks around you and continue lifting. That is, until you hear a heavy creaking from above, watching as more rocks start trickling in from above.

“Obi Wan, I think we need to stop,” you say regrettably, letting go of the rocks you had in your grasp. Obi Wan follows suit, humming lowly against the sound of rocks tumbling back into place.

“Perhaps we should find another way out,” Obi Wan mumbles, turning around within the limited light to peer deeper into the cave tunnel. “ If there is another way out.”

“If there isn’t, we can come back out here,” you assure, mostly for yourself than Obi Wan. “We’ll just have to try to make sure we lift the right rocks out of the way if we come back.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Obi Wan states. You hear some movement and suddenly, blue light explodes nearby, lining Obi Wan’s face with a luminescent glow.

        You reach for your side, tugging a lightsaber from your hip and letting the blade shoot up to illuminate your area with a [l/c] glow. You look up to Obi Wan while patting your side, making sure that your other lightsaber is with you in case it has fallen, and when it turns out to be there, you let out a sigh of relief.

“You still have everything, Obi Wan?” you ask curiously, patting your own body down all the while to make sure you haven’t lost anything else. You have your commlink in your robes along with the device holding the map.

“I believe so…” Obi Wan begins while patting his own body down. The sound of his hand rifling through his clothing is all you hear as you watch the dimly lit Obi Wan search through his little belongings.

        That is, until he freezes up. “Oh dear.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” you say with a grimace.

        Obi Wan frowns, looking around along the floor. “It’s not,” he says in agreement.

“What are you missing?” you ask while stepping closer, watching as he continues running his eyes along the ground.

“The statuette,” Obi Wan answers a little too casually for your liking, though it also doesn’t seem all that uncharacteristic of him. “I think I may have dropped it when you pulled me aside.”

        It’s an honest mistake, and with the other reality having been Obi Wan being crushed possibly, you feel a little better about it all. Still, it makes your blood freeze over and you gulp nervously.

“Oh. That’s not good.” Your eyes start wandering the ground as well as you start trying to find it alongside Obi Wan.

        You turn away from Obi Wan, slinking off to your side of the cave to spread out your searching area. When you reach one cave wall, you can see that the ground dips steeply. From there, you can vaguely make out a lower branch of the cave with the entrance being a small hole exposed to the chamber you’re in. You lean a little closer to the ground to peer into the cave that strangely has light within it— It’s sunlight.

        A glint of colour catches your attention and you gasp.

“Have you found it?” Obi Wan shuffles over as his voice carries through the contained area.

“Yeah, it fell in here. I think it leads outside,” you tell him, flattening your body on the ground so that you could peer further inside. You see more colours twinkling at you, meaning the statuette’s definitely in there.

“Perhaps we could use this section to get out,” Obi Wan suggests rather brilliantly. You’re about to answer before the strange horn sounds off again. 

        The horn… the wind… the rain.

        You have to avoid the rain, said the locals.

“No, we can’t,” you answer quickly, watching as his brows furrow. “It's raining outside. We can’t let the rainwater touch us, remember?”

“I’d almost forgotten,” Obi Wan says, sounding less than pleased with the prospect of getting rained in. “I suppose we can use this time to look for a better way out then.”

        You can see him lowering himself to the ground next to you, peering into the little hole with eyes looking more blue than they usually look due to his saber next to his head.

“We’ll still have to retrieve the statuette, but judging from the amount of light within that crevice, it must be quite open to the sky,” notes Obi Wan with a frown evident in his voice. 

        You can tell he’s worried about the rain, especially considering the frantic sort of tone the villagers used to warn the two of you about the rain. But just a little bit can’t be all that bad, right? You’re willing to try it out if it means retrieving the gift offering.

“I’ll head down and grab it,” you conclude.

        After all, it feels only right for you to be the one to risk yourself since it’s only lost due to your rough actions. When you see his deep frown of disapproval, you smile reassuringly. 

“It’ll be fine,” you tell the man. “I’ll try to get it without getting too wet.”

        Before he can argue with you, you hand him your newly deactivated lightsaber. It seems like he’s reluctant to take it as it would mean he accepts the idea of you venturing forth into the suspiciously dangerous rainwater, but he eventually caves. Obi Wan reaches out and takes it from you, though not without showing you that he very clearly doesn’t like the idea of this. However, he doesn’t stop you from shrugging off your outer robe and slipping into the crevice. 

        You expected a clean drop down to the ground within the chamber, so when the wall behind you suddenly slopes forward, you’re left to let out a yelp while stumbling forward, almost collapsing face first into the rocky earth. Barely managing to keep yourself upright, sacrificing a knee against the hard ground in exchange for saving your face, you find yourself inside the small chamber in one piece.

“[Y/n]? Are you alright?” questions Obi Wan’s voice from above you somewhere behind you. 

“I’m fine,” you answer back before glancing around. 

        From the little bit of sunlight filtering in through a crack in the ceiling above you, there’s just enough light to fill the cave with a hazy glow. Your eyes easily capture the twinkling rocks embedded in the statuette and you move over to it, thankful that the cave is tall and large enough for normal walking.

        However, your lucky streak seems to reach it’s dead end because as you’re passing under the crack at the ceiling, you receive what feels like an entire bucketful of water crashing down on your head.

        So much for avoiding the majority of the water, though it’s not like you could’ve easily predicted that a huge amount of water was going to come crashing down on you like that. You sputter out the fluid running down to your lips, lifting a hand to wipe away the liquid to see that it’s clear, like the rainwater you remember from home. There’s nothing to indicate that it’s anything but rainwater but you quickly scamper across the exposed area anyway. 

        You were initially planning to avoid the majority of the rain by darting across, but it seems as though your luck had to run short the moment you stepped too close. It wasn’t even the simple drizzle of rain either, which would have been bad but certainly not as bad as it turned out because instead you earned a huge blob of water that must’ve been channeled over the rocky terrain and onto you.

        When you find that you’re able to avoid being pelted any further by more water, you praise your returned luck. It’s a pity it hadn’t been around to protect you from earning more than enough rainwater before. 

        You grab the statuette and duck past the rainy vent again, feeling the drizzle pelt your already wet face and back. When you reach the crevice leading back to Obi Wan, you look up into the blue-lit darkness and reach out the hand holding the statuette.

“Hold out my robe and grab the statuette with it. I think it’s a bit wet with rainwater so don’t touch it directly,” you instruct, watching as Obi Wan retracts the blade of the saber.

        And seeing as you’re plenty wet already, you can handle a bit more water on your own outer robe. If it means keeping Obi Wan out in the clear, it’s fine by you.

        Seconds pass before you see his hand wrapped in a brown cloth reaching down to pick the statuette in the way you advised him to.

“And what about you? Have you gotten wet?” Obi Wan inquiries from above. You glance up at his barely there blue eyes and chuckle meekly.

“I’m not soaked, but yes, I got pretty wet. I think I should be able to dry it off with my robe though,” you answer with a casual tone.

“Are you sure?”

        It can’t be that bad… 

“Yes, I’m fine, I’m fine. I can’t imagine it’ll be too bad,” you say, looking up to him and his frowning lips.

        He reaches out a hand towards you, and after wiping your hand on the side of your dry torso, you take the offer. Obi Wan lifts you up through the crevice with ease and you worm your way through back into the main cavern with Obi Wan.

“I have the heater the people of the village lent me,” Obi Wan says once your feet touch down onto the ground again, “would you like me to activate it now?”

        You would much prefer to be able to sit and get started with drying off with the device, so it would make better sense to look for a viable exit before doing all that. To his question, you shake your head.

“No, let’s try to find the exit to the cave first. It’ll be easier to take a break once we find a way out.”

        You then try wringing out some of the water persistently dripping down your face and onto the floor below. Your fingers rise to try and rid your head of most of the water clinging to your hair and the large majority of your upper body.

        And there’s a lot of it.

“You’re soaked,” Obi Wan notes with a disapproving tone, moving closer with eyes wandering the upper half of your figure. He looks so concerned that he might end up trying to dry your hair himself and you shake your head again.

“I should be fine,” you tell him, not feeling off or anything with the exception of a little chill. “Besides, I should start to dry on my own.” 

        You take the bundle of your robe out of his hands, making sure to rub the statuette hidden inside dry. Once it’s not soaking and a threat to either of you— whatever that threat may be— you hand it over to Obi Wan. He takes it wordlessly and places it back into his robes for safekeeping, still staring with a frown at your drenched hair and shoulders.

        Now free of the object, you shake out the robe and swing it over your shoulders, burrowing within the slightly damp cloth to try and gather back some of the warmth it promises. A chill runs up your spine and you shiver, hugging the cloak closer. For a split second, you notice Obi Wan’s hand rising towards you from his side, only to fall back without ever doing anything he must’ve wanted to do. Whatever that might’ve been, anyway.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” comes Obi Wan’s concern again before you see him offer you your lightsaber back. 

        You take it, mumbling your thanks as you do.

“I said I’m fine, Obi Wan. You don’t have to worry about me so much.”

        He seems skeptical but nods and detaches his lightsaber from the belt on his hip. When the cave is filled with an additional lightsaber humming in the air, you send the collapsed entrance one last glance. In order to avoid spending too long just standing here, the two of you start making your way through the cave.

        It doesn’t take too long to find another entrance, surprisingly. Just a few minutes of following the wall, and there it is, another exit. Perhaps luck has finally decided to be kind after dropping a bucket worth of water over your head.

“I assume we’ll be camping out the rain here?” Obi Wan’s eyes scan the area, searching for anything that might be a concern. 

        You nod, giving the place a once-over as well. “That seems like the plan.”

        The moment you receive a nod from Obi Wan, you take a few steps towards the cave mouth to peek outside. You can hear the strange horn sounds again, melting with the rain pelting the earth below. Carefully avoiding the rain from hitting you again, you take in what little there is to see from the cave.

        There isn’t much. The vegetation is void of animalistic life, like before, but the sky has darkened. Not just because of the clouds, but rather because the orange glow has mellowed out into a dark yellow. It seems like the sun is setting behind the rain clouds. 

        When you feel the sprinkling of the rain hit your face again, you pull back to furiously rub away the chilling liquid. There isn’t any wind blowing into the cave, but you shiver again beneath your cloak as if a strong and frigid one rushed by. Scurrying away from the cave mouth, you rejoin Obi Wan, who stands a safe distance away from the rain and wind.

“It looks like we’ll have to wait out the night too. The sky got darker.” You look up to his face to see him staring at the outside world. He nods wordlessly before shifting his eyes to you.

“Hopefully the morning will bring an end to the rain,” Obi Wan says with a small smile.

“Yeah, hopefully.”

        Both of you grow silent again, giving way to your shuffles and other small movements that fill the cave’s air. Now that the realisation of needing to spend hours in the cave has sunken in, the both of you settle yourselves in for the night.

        You didn’t expect to still be cold from your little tango with the rainwater, but even as you prepare yourself to sit and perhaps sleep in the cave for the night, the shivers that creep up your spine only get worse and worse. You try to hide it from Obi Wan, as you’d already assured him that you were fine, but you’re sure he’s already caught on to the fact that something is terribly wrong.

        But he doesn’t say anything, probably because you’ve consistently shrugged his concerns off so far. Eventually, he does end up reaching into his side pouch to pull out the little warming device he received from the villagers. Wordlessly, he places it closer to you before settling into a meditative state.

        As night falls and the cave is lit within the warm glow of the device, you’re struggling to keep yourself from shivering intensely with Obi Wan nearby and possibly watching. However, a glance over to Obi Wan reveals that his eyes are closed, like he’s asleep. You know better than to think that he’s asleep, meaning he must be meditating as he always is during times of silent waiting. You suppose that’s fine because mediation means that he isn’t watching you like a hawk.

        Feeling relatively safe to show a little weakness to the rainwater that plagues you so, you tug the robe off of your shoulders and lift it up to rub out some of the water from your hair. It still hasn’t dried up, and with it constantly dripping down to your neck and shoulders, it’s not your situation helping at all, so the least you can do is to try and dry some of it off. Some of it does come away, luckily, and your hair is less wet then before yet still cold to the touch.

        As your robe isn’t soaking from wiping your hair down, you throw it back onto your shoulders to rub away some of the dampness on your shoulders and neck with the heavy cloth. It doesn’t work very well, but it’s something to take your mind off of the unbearable cold that haunts your body. 

        Shuffling a little closer to the heating device, you try to relax. Being all tensed up won't help your situation at all. With a sigh, you try huddling a little further into your robe in hopes of generating enough heat to dry off the strange rainwater.

        In the silence, perhaps to try and distract your mind from the cold, your mind wanders to the strane property of the rainwater. The villagers said to not let it touch skin so maybe it had some sort of chemical property that affects unprotected skin. Will it ever dry? At this rate, you’re not sure. You do hope so, in any case.

        Another shiver breaks through your thoughts and you look up to the entrance of the cave. If you concentrate hard enough, you can hear the rain pelting down over the earth and the wind crashing into the cave entrance. It’s all dark past the furthest reaches of the light from the small warming device and any stars that could have been seen are all but blotted out. It doesn’t even look like there’s light anywhere outside. It’s all dark.

        Turning away from the darkened world when even that begins to make you feel colder, you pull your robe a little closer to your body. Hoping to settle in more comfortably, you remind yourself that it’s going to be a long night and that you should conserve the little energy you have left and rest until you can start moving again.

        You’re sure you’ll dry up eventually.

Chapter Text

“[Y/n]?”

        You flinch at the sound of your name being called, lifting your eyes from the warming device to the only person who could have called your name. You lock eyes with Obi Wan’s and a shiver runs up your spine again, but this time you’re not sure if it’s from the cold or from the way Obi Wan narrows his eyes at you within the darkness.

“The rainwater, is it still affecting you?” he asks from his side of the cave.

“A bit,” you answer softly, voice betraying your weakness before you catch his deep frown. Grimacing, you shake your head. “Okay, fine. It is. I think there’s something different about it. It's not like normal rain and most of it hasn’t dried up yet. It’s making me feel cold— unnaturally cold.”

“Is the device warm enough at least?” Obi Wan asks, shifting in his place. 

        You watch as he reaches for the device, holding a hand near it as if to gauge the area that its warmth could reach. His voice was drenched in worry and a feeling of guilt rises up from your chest. 

“To be honest, not really,” you mumble in response, no longer wanting to hide your status from such worry. “But I’m sure it’ll dry eventually.”

“'Eventually’?” Obi Wan repeats incredulously before letting out a deep sigh. “Come here.”

“What?” You blink, looking at him with confusion. 

        Without saying another word, Obi Wan holds out a hand and beckons you to come closer to him, presumably so that you can sit next to him so that he could share his body heat. You frown at the thought, but the idea of Obi Wan simply moving himself over to your side himself seems so much worse.

        So you stand up rather reluctantly and move to take a seat next to him. Keeping your eyes on the warming device he pulls closer, your mind is warning you to keep yourself controlled from doing anything that would embarrass you for the rest of your life.

“You won’t be any warmer there than when you were back in your spot over there at the other side of the cave,” Obi Wan’s voice states before you feel something wrapping around your arm. His fingers tug you closer and your head is suddenly resting on his arm. 

        You feel something combing through your hair and a shiver runs up your spine. This time, you know that it’s because of the fingers dragging over your scalp, not the suspicious water. His arms practically cage you in as he works with the water still clinging to you. Sitting there, frozen in place as Obi Wan runs his hands and robe sleeves through your hair, you can’t help but feel angry at yourself for feeling happy.

“You’re still soaked,” he reprimands unhappily above you. The worry seems like it’s doubled and the guilt in you churns awake again.

“Yeah,” you mumble as another shiver clambers its way up your body. 

        At the feeling of Obi Wan’s much warmer touch, you let out a soft sigh and close your eyes. It’s nice to feel warmth again even if it isn’t your own. Even you’ll admit to such a thing.

        He mumbles something but the words pass through the air faster than your fatigued brain can pick out. You’re about to shift out of his hold to ask him what he said, but he moves faster, leaving you to just sit and see what he does next. You catch sight of his other arm moving towards you, pulling you in closer to him. He’s so much bigger than you are so moving you out of your stubborn seat next to him to a seat directly in front of him between his legs seems as easy as breathing for him.

“Wait, Obi Wan—” you begin far too late, squirming to try and escape such a bind, only to be halted when his hands return to your shoulders with a strong grip.

“No,” is all he says to interrupt you.

        His arms move, shifting to a place to wrap his limbs around the front of your body. His robes fall over your chest as he pulls you closer against his chest, holding you within all of his warmth so that it surrounds you. Like this, it’s like he’s just giving you a hug from behind and not attempting to share warmth to keep you from dying due to the sheer cold.

“No more complaints or anything else from you, [y/n]. Otherwise, you will become sick, and that is not something either of us want, is it?”

        You groan softly at his stern lecturing tone but you make no more moves to escape the arms that trap you within the barrier of fabrics. It’s not like you completely hate this situation, but the way he scolds you like a child has you more irritated then ever. Still, you don’t want to anger or worry him any further, so you stay seated like he instructed you to.

        At least you’re not sitting on his lap. Luckily you’re seated on the ground in front of him while his legs are criss-crossed around your body. Your legs hang over his as he rests his arms in front of you, clinging onto you as if you were some stuffed animal. If you have to confess, this is quite nice… 

        You lean back onto his chest and arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer to him, if that was even possible.

“Sleep,” Obi Wan whispers from above you.

        His voice rumbles in his chest and you find yourself closing your eyes at the comforting feeling of Obi Wan so close. Even if you didn’t want to sleep as he commanded you to, it seems the cold had sapped away enough of your energy to make it too easy to just listen to what he instructs.

“I don’t believe there will be anything to bother us for the time being. So please, rest.”

        It’s a dangerous move to sleep during the night within a cave where something could leap out and attack you in this vulnerable state, but the way Obi Wan says “us” has you no longer in the mood to reject his offers. You let your body relax while your mind lifts from the chilling cold of your soaked clothes and hair to the warm touch of Obi Wan’s body.

        It can’t hurt to do as he says.

——

—

        When your consciousness finally stirs, it isn’t from natural circumstances. Rather, it’s from a light shaking of your body under hands clutching to your shoulders and someone calling your name. Your eyes peek open after a few unsuccessful attempts at ridding your body of the heavy sleep over your mind to see soft blue-grey eyes and copper hair.

“Is it morning?” you mumble while still half asleep, trying to push aside the drowsiness from your eyes.

“Yes. The rain must have stopped sometime during the night. It’s still rather early, so if you’d like to continue sleeping, I’m sure we can stay in the cave for a little longer,” Obi Wan offers softly, letting the hands around your shoulders fall.

        And as nice as that sounds, you simply shake your head, letting out a yawn and sending him a glance. 

“No, it’s fine,” is your answer. “We should head to the village otherwise they’re going to wonder where we went.” 

        You lift your arms to stretch out the kinks within your body and Obi Wan moves away towards the warming device to lift it off the ground. He turns to you after switching it off and you watch as his eyes drop to wander down on your person.

“Has the rainwater dried?” he asks curiously and you lift your hands to check.

        Touching your hands to the cloth over your upper body, you search around for any indication of wetness. Pinching and feeling, you notice that your robes are dry. Which is good. If you were to be eternally soaking in such inconveniencing rainwater, you wouldn't know what to do. You do the same with your hair, running your fingers through to clear it of any obvious knots and to check if it’s dry. Luckily, it is.

“Seems like it,” you answer with a smile. Obi Wan hums, clearly reassured.

        Now ready to leave, you make a move to stand up, but a hand appears in front of you before you can get too far. Letting your eyes trail up the extended limb, you see Obi Wan smiling down at you with a hand always ready to help you up.

        He says nothing when you take his hand, letting you be pulled off the ground in a strange yet pleasant silence that feels quite warm and happy through the Force. It gives you the feeling that something had been lifted from his shoulders. It seems, whatever the reason for his earlier troubles has finally passed like the rain.

“Time to finish the mission, I assume?” Obi Wan declares and you find yourself laughing.

“Time to finally finish it, you mean,” you correct him, nudging him lightly on the arm, “otherwise we’ll get rained in again.”

“And that would not be very good, would it?” Obi Wan inquiries, chuckling to himself as if playing coy.

“No, it wouldn’t.”

        The two of you slip out of the cave, allowing the sun to glare down from above. Squinting at the light that seemed so absent hours ago, it’s a bit hard to remember that the world before this sun was a wet and horrifyingly cold one. The sunlight beaming down warms your body, but in all honesty, nothing about it can beat the memory of that heart you could feel beating against your back and the arms resting around your body.

        With things like that happening, it really is hard to remember that Obi Wan won’t always be at your side. Considering the ever-changing times, you have a good number of years where you can be comfortable around him like this, basking in the gentle glow of his presence before you’ll have to let him go.

        But until then, you have all the time in the world to compile and cherish every little moment you have left with him.

Chapter Text

        Ever since you learned of your newfound powers, your priority during your free time beyond training and studying became solo practices in learning how to navigate through such developments and seeing what you can and can’t do with this. As this skill is a skill that no other records nor Jedi Master could tell you about, you’re left on your own to grope around for something that sticks.

        You start out with testing the process of taking the Force in, which actually turned out to be easier than you expected. Of course, you have to make sure to avoid overloading again, which is something you would gladly avoid unless you wanted your vision to go all strange again.

        Which you don't want.

        The gist of it is the same as controlling the Force in the sense that you need to become something like a conduit and borrow the powers cycling around you. From there, the problems starte to pile up— specifically when you took in the power. As it turns out, the more you take, the harder it is for you to adjust to reality. You can only assume that this is just the side effects of being able to do something like this, and no matter how much or how little you took in, there would always be some measure of nausea.

        Meaning you had to prepare yourself for a difficult road of side effects to overcome. Perhaps, as you became more familiar with your powers or managed to make them stronger, you’d have to deal with even more issues, but that’s something for a future you to deal with.

        At least the goal seems quite worth it.

        One of the many meditation areas worked great for this practice, and as time passed by with you working with this skill more and more often, the people around you became familiar with the ever fluctuating emptiness and fullness of your person. It seems finally finding some sort of answer, even if it were somewhat vague, was enough. Some still look your way sometimes, but after what Obi Wan told you, you weren’t too worried about it anymore.

        You open your eyes and let out a sigh at the thought of Obi Wan. Good thing the room was empty, because if not, some noble Jedi Master would go out of their way to find out why you were sighing with such a forlorn expression on your face. If they were extremely good at reading into Signatures, they’d notice the pinprickle of something sapping away at your heart.

        So a good thing indeed.

        And now that you think about it, where is Obi Wan? It’s not as thought you’re entitled to know where he is at all times, but you’ve gotten used to seeing him pretty often during your day as if fate wanted to see you squirm in his constant presence, but today doesn’t seem to be one of those days. You remember having talked to him yesterday, so did he mention anything about heading out? Perhaps on a mission?

        Eventually, your mind does remember something. A quick mention of a mission as you so correctly guessed. He had a mission to go to with Qui Gon. Something about talking to the Trade Federation or something. If you can recall correctly, it had something to do with why the Trade Federation is blockading Naboo.

        … 

        … … 

        Hold on. Naboo? Blockade?

        You spring off the seat with record timing, rushing through the room and shoving open the doors. Without losing speed, you manage to maintain your speed as you dash through the grand halls of the Jedi Temple. With a little bit of the Force behind each step, your body carries you along faster than humanly possible. However, that little bit of extra help doesn’t keep the eyes of several onlookers from looking over at you with confusion.

        Unfortunately… 

        You turn the corner in a hurry, and again your luck strikes against you because you can see Mace to the side of the hall, speaking to Depa and Aayla. You think he hears your footsteps or senses you rapidly approaching because he looks up with confusion even before your footsteps can make it to his ears.

“[Y/n], what are you doing? Where are you going in such a rush?” Mace questions with enough intimidation to stop you in your tracks had this not been for something important.

        But this is for something important, so you don’t bother to slow down. Rather, you plan to breeze right past him.

“I, uh, vision, Master!” is what your frazzled mind comes up with. “I need to go! Let’s talk later!”

        To avoid him reading too much in your blatant lie, you speed your way along and make it to the next corner that you need to turn at. You're almost screeching your boots to a halt, stumbling when your momentum won’t stop, before gaining enough balance to continue racing through the Temple again.

        Faster than you ever would have thought you could run, you almost slam into the doors of the Jedi Hangar Bay just as it was about to close on the last person to leave. They rush off for fear of being murdered by you, probably, and you’re left to shout an apology after them. You don’t chase after them to clear up the misconception, deciding that this was more important than anything else, and you slip inside.

        You reach out with the Force, guiding yourself along towards the familiar warm feeling coming from one area of the Hangar. When you make it to the person the Signature belongs to, you see him speaking to Qui Gon, turning just as your eyes land on his figure. You jog closer, gasping for breath as you lean your hands heavily on your knees.

“[Y/n]? What’s wrong?” Obi Wan questions with concern before stepping closer to you. He must think you’d come with an emergency at the way you’re wheezing for a breath.

        What did you come to say anyway? You’re not entirely sure… 

“I… vision… Master Jinn… danger," is what manages to come out. You can see the way Obi Wan scrunches up his brows at the sound of those words strung together within an incoherent sentence and you figure you might as well catch your breath first.

        A few gulps of air that Obi Wan patiently waits through it all you need to help compose yourself.

“I had a vision and Master Jinn was in danger. He rushed into a fight he shouldn't have,” you finally explain to both the men before you. “You two should… stick together on this mission. Keep each other safe.”

“A vision…?" you hear Qui Gon repeat with an interested hum. You look up and nod towards the older Jedi Master. “I’ll be sure to remember that, thank you, [y/n].”

        Well… that’s the end of that, you suppose.

“Of course,” you say, nodding in gratitude at the fact that he even listened to your warnings. 

        He chuckles before reaching out and ruffling your hair. Upon pulling away, his hand doesn’t seem to have ruined too much of your hair, so you're grateful. When you see the bright expression spreading over his face, you’re plenty grateful.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Obi Wan seems doubtful of your current condition. You wave your hand dismissively, smiling to the younger man.

“Never been better, Obi Wan," you assure him brightly. He furrows his eyebrows together but he still smiles nonetheless.

        Though, not without grimacing slightly. “If you say so,” he ends up saying in response, still eyeing you carefully.

“It’s a good thing you came when you did, otherwise, we’d already be gone.” Qui Gon lets out a hearty chuckle, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. “Keep up the studies. At the rate you’re progressing, you’ll catch up to Obi Wan before he even notices.”

        He tosses a teasing smirk towards his own padawan, earning a bit of a pout from Obi Wan.

“Master,” Obi Wan grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

        But all Qui Gon does is roar with laughter, pulling his hand away before shifting even closer towards the ship. You see him send Obi Wan a glance before looking back at you with some unreadable emotion brewing in his eyes. At the very least, you can tell that it has less of his mirthful attitude from earlier and is more… serious.

“You will go far,” Qui Gon tells you. 

        When you nod at his strangely cryptic words, understanding it yet at the same time knowing that there’s something in his tone that tells you that you have yet to really understand it. He turns to Obi Wan with a nod before making his way to the ship’s ramp, leaving you alone with Obi Wan and the rest of the hangar.

“I’m very thankful you come all this way to warn us,” Obi Wan starts, bowing to you respectfully. “Much more than just thankful, really. If he may be in as much danger as you say, I owe you so much more than just many thanks.”

“It’s no problem, Obi Wan. I’m just looking out for my good friend’s master," you assure, patting his arm for good measure. “I know how happy you were when Qui Gon became your master and it would be terrible off me if I didn’t tell you two about something as important as this.”

“Still, thank you,” Obi Wan insists with a small smile. He sends the ship a look over his shoulder, as if he knows that he’s running out of time, before turning back to you. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something but you hold up a finger and stop him.

        Because he may be truly late in leaving.

“Tell you when you get back. You have a mission ahead of you." You let your arm fall and Obi Wan stifles a chuckle.

“Alright, you win,” he says with a smile ever present on his face, “I will be sure to come back with my master safe.”

“Make sure to look out for yourself too. Good luck," you say before remembering something, “and may the Force be with you.”

“May the Force be with you as well. Practice hard as Master Qui Gon advised, [y/n],” Obi Wan repeats to you, nodding his head down to say his goodbyes to you.

        You do the same for him, lifting your head to meet his soft blue-grey gaze before he turns away for the next little while. The sight of your eyes seems to send his Signature some nice vibes, allowing him to turn towards the ship and up the ramp. His cloak billows behind him and you can’t help but watch as it flutters after him.

        Soon enough, the ramp finally closes and the engines roar to life. Worried for your safety, you step back and watch as the ship lifts from the ground before humming along farther and farther, leaving you to your lonesome. Sighing, you stretch your arms over your head and start making your way out of the hangar, pleased that you had managed to warn Qui Gon, at the very least. There’s no guarantee that Qui Gon's going to be safe, but you sure do hope he’ll come back alive.

        On another note, they should be coming back with Anakin. It looks like you'll have to get busy befriending the young kid if you’re going to do anything like changing the future for the better. After all, he’s the main character within all that conflict. And perhaps you should brush up on your lightsaber techniques too. It’s not as thought you want the kid to beat you at the game you've been supposedly playing for years now.

        Exiting the hangar, you see Mace striding towards you and your happy mood drops a little bit. But only by a little bit because even Mace right here and right now is a good opportunity.

“Master Windu, can we practice my saber techniques?” you inquire as you walk to meet him in the middle of his journey towards you.

“That can be arranged for later. What were you doing, racing through the Temple like that?”

        Oh boy. You can find some solace in the fact that he isn’t using the “I’m very disappointed in you” voice that you've heard him use plenty of times. Both for others and, on the very rare occasions, yourself.

“Well, you see…”

        But it was all worth it.

Chapter Text

        You’d almost forgotten that you would be able to see Obi Wan and Qui Gon again before the big ending to the first major milestone of this story. The big ending, really, being Qui Gon’s death, of course. Then again, there’s a chance that even that big of an event might be avoided. 

        It seemed as though you didn’t notice their return on your own at first, having been more focused on your meditating, so they end up finding you first, opening the doors to the room you’d been alone in for quite some time, just working with the Force. It breaks you from your concentration just in time to see both Obi Wan and Qui Gon entering.

“You’re back,” you note with awe, blinking at the sight of them. “Is your mission over already?”

“Far from it, I’m afraid,” Qui Gon answers, sighing heavily. 

        You stand up from your seat to greet them with a partial bow and he strides over with an equally weary looking Obi Wan at his side. The two sit near your seat, and with a wave from Qui Gon, you take your seat again.

“Are you both feeling alright? You look pretty… bad,” you wonder aloud, trying not to grimace too badly or too obviously in front of them. 

        Obi Wan smiles at first. “Is it really that obvious?” he inquires with a rather light voice. 

        And upon hearing that, you let out a soft sigh at his attempt at humour.

“Well…” you begin, staring at the two closely. You try to look away from the obvious signs of fatigue on their faces, and look towards the Force surrounding them and within them for an answer instead.

        To your expectations, the fatigue of the two men combined screams a feeling akin to wanting nothing more than to sleep for two days without interruption.

“It’s very obvious,” you answer with a laugh, “I’ll try not to remind you of your mission then, to give you two a break. But what are you two doing here? Everyone usually avoids the rooms I use for practice.”

“‘Practice’?” Qui Gon repeats with interest, leaning forward in his seat. “Care to tell us more?”

        You suppose the nature of some of your practices must not have reached Qui Gon’s ears. Most others don’t really know what you’re doing but dislike how it feels to be around you when you do practice.

“It’s my ability. Since I’m, um, empty, I’ve been practicing on how to gather the Force from around me to temporarily boost my powers for a certain amount of time.”

        It sounds so simple when you put it in those words and that aggravates you to no end.

“Convenient,” hums Obi Wan and you can’t help but smile.

“It’s a little hard, though, but I think I can make it work with enough practice,” you say while rubbing the back of your neck.

“An interesting power,” Qui Gon comments. His fingers move over his beard, not to scratch it, but to glide them over it as he ponders whatever is in his head. “If it’s no trouble, could we watch?”

        Oh.

“I don’t mind, but…” you answer before you furrow your brows, “I don’t know how this might affect other Jedi in the area. There’s a reason why there aren’t any other Jedi here. They avoid me because of the strange atmosphere I… create?”

“You are taking the Force from the surrounding air. Perhaps the lack of the Force is just too stifling of an environment for those around you,” Obi Wan notes and you nod.

        That’s basically how you’ve been thinking of it. 

        And in bobbing your head up and down, something strikes you as odd.

“Why are you two here?” you wonder aloud, glancing between the two men.

        If their mission isn’t over yet, why show up here?

        You watch as Qui Gon and Obi Wan turn to look at each other, communicating something between their eyes that you can’t pick up or understand. Then again, the two are quite close, so whatever words passed between the two probably didn’t apply to you anyway. Or they really could be reading each other’s minds. It’s not like you’d put it past them to converse at least a few of their conversations through their Bond.

“Well, you could say that we needed a break from the Council,” Qui Gon answers slowly, as if he didn't want to be caught saying something like that.

        Not that you can really blame him for disclosing that information in such a way.

“I’m glad to be the one to give you two your break then,” you say happily as Qui Gon relaxes.

“Now, about that ability?” Qui Gon asks hopefully. 

        Seeing as there might not be any reason to say no, you nod to his words and fix your position atop your seat. Drawing your legs closer so that you’re positioned comfortably on the cushioned seat, you take in a deep breath to calm your nerves despite the fact that you know both Qui Gon and Obi Wan’s eyes are on you. 

        Closing your eyes, you block their stares and let out the breath you’d taken in seconds ago. Your heart still beats erratically at the fact that you’re practically performing in front of these two, but you still try your best to calm yourself as much as you can, at least until you could connect to the thrumming energy around you.

        And you can. Relatively easily too.

        You call it towards you, mentally beckoning for the powers so abundant around you yet lacking within you to move closer and closer, adding it into your own reserves. It’s a relatively automatic process, especially since you’ve already gotten the absorption to start. Now, you’re pretty much floating within the Force— as if you’re in a space between everything. 

        Not exactly in reality and not completely one with the Force, but rather in the middle where everything diverges and meets at the same time. Whatever that should mean as you long since given up trying to understand what this really is.

        And it’s here that you become so much more aware of the people around you. You don’t usually like staying in this zone, as it costs so much of your energy to remain in this state just watching the world through the lenses of the in-between, but it’s still a fascinating place to be in, nonetheless.

        The other Jedi within the Temple bob about in the darkness behind your eyelids, moving with each step and illuminated within the warm glow of the Force. If you look close enough, you can see variety within the glowing and moving blobs. 

        Those are other Jedi and padawans, from what you’ve noticed.

        There are some that look jagged and others smooth and round while many others hover in a state between the two extremes. Squinting even further, you can see what looks like little ribbons connecting blobs to one another. Sometimes, one blob can have multiple ribbons and sometimes they only have one.

        Those are the Bonds that are shared between the countless inhabitants of this place.

        In front of you, revealing themselves far more closely than any other blob as many others avoid this state around you, lay two blobs. One is more rounded than the other, and considering the seating arrangement from before you closed your eyes, Qui Gon is the rounder one while Obi Wan seems a lot rougher. With two very distinct people sitting in front of you, you can finally figure out the distinction between the two.

        The smoothness must reflect the amount of time the Jedi has been exposed to the Force around them. Or maybe it’s how experienced the Jedi is to the touch and feel of the Force. It sure had something to do with the experience of the person, but in what way specifically, you don’t know. Not for sure, at least.

        It doesn’t take you long to realise that you’re reaching your limit.

        Your body freezes up slightly when a feeling similar to being unable to breathe rises up from your chest, but you try to plow through it. You always do because how else would you improve this skill? Sometimes you just have to dive into the deep end of the pool in order to learn how to swim.

        You continue observing the blobs of Obi Wan and Qui Gon, taking note of their Force Signatures’ shape and the ribbon that wavers between them in the short time that you have. The ribbons don’t vary in shape and look the same no matter the pair. Compared to the other ribbons you’ve seen around the Temple, the ribbon in front of you also doesn’t reveal any differences. Meaning, these ones probably don’t give any indications for much like how close two Jedi are or how strong their Bond is unlike the textures of the blobs.

        The air in your lungs is becoming increasingly choked out of your body and you can feel your control slipping away. You’re even closer to your limit than before as the temptation of letting go and returning back into the real world steadily grows stronger.

        Your eyes— or whatever body part you’re looking through— catches a fluctuation in Qui Gon’s Signature and your attention leaps to the older Jedi. You’ve seen fluctuations before from observing the Jeddi around the Temple, but never this close. 

        With Qui Gon and Obi Wan here voluntarily, this would be the perfect time to watch and learn about the world that you see despite the screaming within your mind growing louder and louder, pleading for you to just let go already.

        Something compels you towards Qui Gon’s Signature. It’s similar to that voice again— the one that whispered into the depths of your mind of how you weren’t connected to this world— but this time it’s softer. You strain your ears to try and listen for the words you believe are meant for your ears, but still they elude your senses. They slip through your fingers like water, dripping into the unknown and now impossible to get back. You’re steadily losing your chances for answers to other questions that had been shoved into the back of your mind for the sake of looking towards the future.

        Your control is steadily draining from you and you realise that you’ve never stayed in this trance for this long before. Your head starts to thrash about in the strange world of this in-between as if it knows that the longer it stays here, the more in danger you are. As if you’re going to lose control of something and you feel your focus flicker out for a moment. You’re about to go, you know that for sure, to follow the wish of that part of your mind that just wants out. 

        But you don’t want to leave. Not yet, at least. And so, perhaps against better judgement, you reach out, not physically but mentally, towards Qui Gon.

        Something the colour of orange seems to melt over your vision and your first thought is to pull away, and you do. Your eyes snap open and your connection to that strange world is disrupted from the desperate attempt to flee so suddenly. It feels quite like a rubber band being snapped due to overextension and you’re left with a feeling that’s similar to falling down a deep, deep hole.

        With arms shooting out from your lap to press them against the cushions below you for the support that your mind seems convinced into needing, you take in deep breaths to calm your heart. Reaching back within yourself, you make sure to calm the storm raging within you to avoid the blinding white lights again should you forget to clean up the mess.

“[Y/n], are you alright?” asks a concerned voice.

        It guides you from your finished task of quelling the waves within you and you see Obi Wan kneeling on one knee in front of your seat with eyes searching you. You notice an foreign warmth at your shoulder and it doesn’t take long before you realise that it’s his hand that gives you such warmth. Now that you notice it, you begin to hate how it feels so… there now.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just went over my limit a bit,” you assure him, lifting your own hand to lift his hand away.

        It was just uncomfortable, like an itch in your throat, but a little worse. Or maybe a lot worse, but still not life threatening. You’re really fine when you say you are this time. You’ve done this a few times before, after all.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Obi Wan asks, pulling back his hand with eyes searching for some sort of lie, it looks like.

“Well,” you begin before trailing off. You could just tell him that it really wasn’t a painful process and that you’re perfectly fine, but something tells you that he wouldn’t buy it. “No child knows how to walk the moment they’re born, right?”

“No. They don’t,” Obi Wan answers with a frown, like he doesn’t like where you’re going with this analogy.

“Exactly,” you say with a smile. Just as you thought, his frown deepens, but he pulls the rest of his body away to sit back on his seat anyway.

        You take a few more moments to recover from such a strenuous action. Calming your breaths and drawing your attention to the thrumming imbalance within you, the Force swirling around starts to still almost immediately. You’ve repeated this process quite often already, so to quell the beast within you isn’t that hard and neither does it take too long anymore. Soon, you’re back to staring at both Qui Gon and Obi Wan again all right as rain.

“A very strange power indeed,” Qui Gon murmurs, staring at you with a gaze that feels much heavier than usual. You brush off that little detail your mind notices and smile to the older man instead.

“I’ve heard,” you say with a sheepish laugh. 

        You watch Obi Wan’s face scrunch up slightly and he frowns, but the frown is different from other frowns before. Before was an unconvinced kind of frown while this one seems to say something else. Like he doesn’t like something. Like he feels annoyed or irritated about something.

        Whatever that might be.

        You hear Qui Gon hum and your eyes leave Obi Wan’s figure. Turning to the older man, you catch him just as he’s lifting himself off his seat, standing to straighten his robes.

“Well, we’ll leave you to your training, then, [y/n]. I believe Obi Wan and I have taken much of your time already and I would hate to disrupt your training any further,” Qui Gon declares with a small smile.

“You weren’t bothering me at all. It’s nice to have someone around for company,” you reassure in return and his smile broadens.

        Then he turns to Obi Wan, saying something not with his mouth but with his eyes again. Whatever the message is, it’s not a long one at all because Qui Gon turns back around to you within seconds, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I hope I’ll be able to see you master this skill of yours in the future, [y/n]. There are many ways one could use this power and I know you will find many interesting ways to utilise your abilities to the fullest,” Qui Gon confesses with a glint of excitement in his mostly weary eyes.

        The mention of the future makes your heart squeeze painfully, but you give him a smile to cover it all up lest you want to worry him about something that might not take place at all.

“I hope so too, Master Jinn,” you answer back and he seems satisfied. 

        And so he turns, sending one last glance to Obi Wan that sends him standing up as well. Qui Gon makes his way to the door and Obi Wan begins to make his way along behind the older man. Now that you’re reminded of Qui Gon’s treacherous next few hours, you catch his arm and tug him closer so that his ear is within range for a low whisper.

“Be careful. He’s still in trouble,” you whisper quickly before letting him go. You watch him nod grimly before you exchange whatever expression you were wearing for a smile.

        Anything to cover up the short exchange lasting fleetingly between you two before Qui Gon can catch wind of it.

“I’ll see you when you get back, Obi Wan. And may the Force be with you both.”

“May the Force be with you as well,” Obi Wan repeats loudly enough for Qui Gon to turn with a smile.

“May the Force be with you, [y/n].”

        And then the two leave the room, returning you to the cold silence from before. The air hangs heavy over you with the departure of the two men who found enough time and energy to visit you during this busy time, especially when they were already so tired. You heave a sigh and situate yourself to repeat the training process again since there’s really nothing else to do but that in your situation.

        So that’s what you’ll do, you figure. After all, anything is better than thinking about what might happen to Qui Gon in the next few hours.

Chapter Text

        You didn’t catch Obi Wan and Qui Gon’s departure, and neither did you ever see Anakin within the halls of the Temple. For whatever reason, fate just didn’t allow you to meet or maybe it was the Force that kept you apart. In any case, they’re gone with mentions of their mission continuation drifting through the halls and an apology from Obi Wan to your commlink in their wake.

        Either way, from here on out you’re not entirely sure of what the two would be doing and what might be happening. Even though you have the general layout of the plot relevant events in mind, time passed differently on Naboo than it did on Coruscant so you still wouldn’t be certain as to what was happening at any given moment. And then there’s the off chance that something beyond what you remembered could be happening instead as well.

        What if Obi Wan dies and Qui Gon is spared? 

        What if Maul successfully kills both? 

        What if the battle ends in a failure for Padmé and the Republic?

        The longer you think about things like that, the worse are the images your mind conjures up, so you stop. There’s no doubt that your being here warrants caution for what you believe is the future, but seeing as how uneasy it makes you feel when you try to imagine a world too different than the one you know, it would be better to stop now before it’s too late and you just spiral into some sort of self induced madness of worry.

        All you can do is believe that everything will be fine. You don’t have anything to put your hope on, so the always-there presence of the Force receives all the faith, hopes, and wishes that you have. You just need to sit back and wait to see what the future will bring at this point where everything is out of your control. That’s all you have to do, right? Nothing else for you at the moment?

        You tell yourself that but the way the Force begins to thrash about has you thinking otherwise. Now you're starting to feel worse than before but at least this time it isn’t really your own fault.

        Perhaps there really is something that you can do… Or maybe the Force punishing you for thinking that you could get away with doing nothing for once in your life? Along those similar lines, the Force could very well be a punishment for trying to change things.

        But as per usual, you’re left to steam in your own thoughts and worries. Nothing gives any indication to an answer of some sort, least of all the Force itself. You hum lowly, shifting in your seat within the empty training room. There’s no one else with you and neither is there anyone in the halls closest to your room, so you're safe to act as you please. But even if there was someone else here, would they feel the sudden shift in the air too? The way the world itself seems to waver and tear all around you despite eyes seeing nothing?

        Perhaps this just means that something is going wrong but that it’s beyond what the eye can see. In all honesty, that is quite terrifying. Especially as it has the advantage of surprise over you.

        Maybe, if there was someone here with you, they would feel it. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Technically speaking, you were special— a special case, at least. Even without that constant hum of power within you, filling your body with the touch of the universe, your mind is otherwise full of the knowledge that everything is going to burn. You know so much more than all those around you and that plagues you everyday. It’s not fun to be around people you know may die if you fail, yet something in you whispers back the paradise of the opposite. That they won’t die. Not while you're around to keep it from happening.

        It certainly makes you feel powerful thinking that you could be the bringer of change. Maybe you are the change this world could use. Maybe that really is what the Force intended for you to be when you blinked open your eyes for the first time here. Bringer of change or a shooting star or a wish come finally true.

        Or maybe not. 

        … 

        Miracle, maybe, but no one knows.

        And in any case, the future is always changing, shifting, and moving around. That much you know for a fact. Even if the majority of this world might be governed by a predestined timeline of events, things could very well change. It would do you well to try not to count on too much at once. Better to remain safe than sorry. 

        But even as you try to reassure yourself of that, the feeling of the Force around you thrashing violently doesn’t leave you, yet you can’t really tell if it’s getting worse or not.

        You close your eyes and just try to meditate your mind away from all of that. Steering clear of the Force, you try to focus on anything but, and it helps because you’re sure you feel a little better and calmer avoiding that strange feeling of… whatever it is. Still… it seems to just nibble at your mind, incessantly reminding you that it’s there. All that’s left to do at this rate is to plead for it to go away with all your might. But it’s a Force thing, so of course it won’t just go away —

        A strange chill or perhaps a wave of some sort of deep sensation rushes through you and only one thing blinks into your mind.

        Did it just get worse?

        You furrow your brows when you realise that the nibbling has turned into tugging and grabbing. It pulls at your mind harshly, and if it were physically real, you have a feeling that whatever this force was coming from— Force or not— would be snarling at you like some sort of rabid animal ready to maim.

        But why? Why is the Force like this? Is it trying to remind you of something? Is it trying to get you to do something?

        All around you, there’s just nothing happening.

        …

        Well, no, that’s an understatement. All of that business with the Trade Federation and Naboo is happening. In fact, it might even be happening right now. You don’t know what is happening, specifically, but you do know that the events should be unfolding right now.

        Maybe it’s because you're so intuned with the Force that you're suffering the side effects of all that. It’s logical and probably true. The Battle of Naboo probably isn’t what the Force wanted at all, so maybe it’s reacting badly to it and throwing a fit thinking that no one would be able to feel it, except you can.

        But is the Force even sentient enough to throw fits like a child? You didn’t know and you kind of want to find out somehow if the Force has the abilities of feeling angry and irritated at the world for being stupid. Almost as if it were some other life form watching over everything and reacting as anyone might. Or, would calling it a “life form of some sort” be wrong? Maybe it’s always been reacting but no one could sense it because it’s beyond what anyone might imagine it to be. Maybe you're the first and only one to be able to sense it, that’s all.

        As special as that makes you sound, it’s starting to feel really annoying.

        A painful sting flashes over your mind and you feel your head throb hard without any warning. It’s short and sudden and you wonder if this is what it’s like to get shot, only without the physical hurt that follows such an event. 

        Your frown deepens when the pang disappears, leaving behind a sour aftertaste. You blink to try and calm your nerves from such a strain within the Force, but every single time you do, something begins to feel terribly off. You blink again and again, over and over, as you try to figure out what is happening with this strange build up, but something akin to a silence falls over your shoulders. It veils your mind and you can only imagine what’s about to happen.

        What this strange silence before a storm is signalling.

        And almost too soon, it happens.

        It suddenly feels like something is ripping away from you, and instinctively you reach out to grab whatever is trying to leave your body and mind. It flails in your grasp like it desperately wants to flee or like it needs to run, but you’re not entirely sure of what it is initially. Whatever you’re holding back feels like it actually bites back as it attempts to make it’s daring escape and you close your eyes, hoping to shut off the pain that accompanies the thrashing motion. 

        Every part of your body tells you to let it go, but you don’t. Certainly it would do you better to do just that, but you still hold fast. Whatever it is… You’re sure you’ll regret letting it go.

        And soon enough, you see why you had that feeling of stubborn determination. Because you see what it is that you’re holding onto within this strange place beyond the real world.

        Or, well, it’s not an “it” as if it were a creature behind this strange movement, rather it’s something more than that.

        The sight that so suddenly greets you isn’t the darkness behind your eyelids, but bright lights instead. Everything looks fluorescent and vaguely familiar but also a bit blurry and kind of dark. So familiar that you’re sure you’ve seen it a long time ago and have committed it to memory. But before you can really think about it for any longer, the pain returns and you dart your eyes around as if looking for the source of your horrible discomfort.

        What you earn for your curiosity is some sort of flash of red. 

        You’d be a fool if you confessed to ignorance as to what just appeared before your very eyes because you’ve seen this flash of red countless times. Just not with the eyes that belong to this body you now inhabit. That very moment the intense and almost hateful colour cuts through what little peace you have left, you know where you are and what’s happening.

        Qui Gon’s unfortunate and untimely death.

        That’s where you are in this state.

        You can feel something pulling away from you again. You still can’t really tell what it is that’s being ripped from your body, but you latch onto it anyway now that the event you’re apparently being involved in is Qui Gon’s death. You know it’s something important because in your mind’s eye, the object or figure or whatever it is feels so big in both presence and shape. That part of you that was reluctant to let it go should you wish to drown in eternal regret shouts at full blast within your head as whispers join it’s call.

        Those seem to be telling you that if you really do let go, Qui Gon will perish, and that’s not something you want.

        It hurts to hold on but you know it’ll hurt more to let go. After all, letting go would mean Obi Wan suffering and you really didn’t want that. And if you're planning to save as many lives as you can, this’ll be your start. This is where you’ll begin your changes to the world— amongst all the other changes you’ve technically made already, of course.

        Amidst the gut wrenching pain that almost sends you keeling onto the floor below your seat— at least you’d like to believe that you’re not already on the floor, but since you’re a bit incapable of seeing the reality of the training room before you at the moment, you really can’t be too sure.

        You feel a gentle tug. Less gentle, actually, and more weak and desperate. It’s like it’s trying to get your attention with a loose grip on your robes that tries to feign strength as it pulls with all it’s strength. At the same time, it feels like it isn’t there. Like it’s about to let go completely. Of you maybe? Or maybe of something else, something much grander than you. After all, it’s not like you’re really there at the moment. You’re in Coruscant, not Naboo.

“Please…”

        The voice that pierces your mind throws your head into chaos. The pain that rings throughout your body parts for the words to pass into your mind, just barely reaching your consciousness. It echoes within the strange world stretching all around your line of sight. Booming with so much power, you can tell that this voice belongs to the hand barely holding onto you.

        Or, maybe not you, but the you that you are at the moment. But who? Considering the red light and all this pain, could you be… 

        The hold is weak, and as you realised before, and it seems to be barely gripping to the last of whatever this is that you’re within at the moment.

        Perhaps even onto life.

        Perhaps Qui Gon’s life.

        A part of you whispers to let go of the burden you so desperately want to keep a hold on. The voice is sickening and you wonder if it’s the voices that cause the pain to double or if it’s just you. 

        Are the voices just you? You don’t know. 

        They sound dark, but tempting all the same. Is this what the Dark Side is like? Again, you don’t know. Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t. You’ve never felt the Dark Side yourself, and frankly you hope you never will, but you know that you probably will need to face it in the near future. 

        Maybe … Probably … You’re practically seething in the little windows of freedom beyond the crippling waves of pain. You never know anything in this world for certain. Nothing big or important, and that’s a little annoying.

        But right now, a smaller part of you shouts back at the voices to go away. You aren’t going to let go. You don’t want to let go. You do want to let go, but you don’t.

        That’s the voice that you choose to believe in no matter how much smaller it is to the darker and more plentiful voices.

        Your rejection of that larger part of this crashes into the Force around you so hard that even you flinch at the magnitude. Even within your tiny zone of intense pain and aggravation, you can still feel the Force drumming though your fingers as if it were music being spread forward. In your fingers, they feel like little shocks of electricity, making your body more energised than it needs to be. You have adrenaline racing alongside the sparks, like they’re having some sort of race inside of you.

        It’s a wonder you haven’t passed out or something like that yet, now that you’re able to think about something as thoughtful as that.

        And even though it feels like hours before anything beneficial happens, the pain starts to drop like it’s reached the highest it’ll ever go. Like a ball tossed up into the sky and hitting it’s climax before dropping quickly down to the ground within the grasp of gravity, it all seems to start ending in some way.

        Your breath is ragged and you can barely sense the feeling of someone coming closer. Behind the darkness, you sense so much, yet so little at the same time, and then the familiar sensation of a gentle touch of a hand makes its way from your shoulder to your fatigued mind.

“…!”

        A wordless and nearly voiceless sound that only gives off hints of a voice rouses you into flinching hard enough for your eyes to snap open. And just like that, you’re returned to the bland sight of the meditation room, staring into eyes coloured in brown. Confusion sweeps over your weary senses and you squint a bit at this new addition to the old reality you remember of an empty training room.

“I asked if you were alright, [y/n],” clarifies the person kneeling before you, Mace, and you see his lips move but it’s like you don’t notice at all either.

        Which is weird. Your mind whirls around, whipping up a storm that you can’t comprehend but can feel. You can hear more shuffling, but you don’t bother moving or shifting your eyes so that you can search for the reason for those sounds. You can just tell there are other people in the room, but considering how drained you feel, you don’t bother to make sure. You’re safe if Mace is with you, in any case.

        And it’s not like knowing who else is here with you is all that important. What’s important is Qui Gon and if he’s okay. You can still feel your own grip on the older Jedi Master in the edges of your mind despite the frazzled state of your mind. And the older Jedi himself is all faint, but still there. He’s surrounded by a warm embrace that you know, meaning he’s safe and he’s fine for now.

        You would shake your head to try and clear your misty head, but you can only move your head from side to side in a slow, teetering motion, like you’re stuck on slow motion. You take in a deep breath and let your eyes flutter to a close, choosing to focus on the warmth and the gentle assurances that everything would be okay coming from both you and the other presence that you feel tickling your senses.

        You focus on Obi Wan even though he isn’t there in the same room with his hand on your shoulders. Even though he isn’t comforting you and even though you’re not the one on his mind… You know that you’re not there and you doubt you'd ever be there in that embrace, but it’s a nice thing to focus on as the last of all of… that trickles away.

        You slip back into the darkness, only this time, your pain is all but dispersing and your body feels numb as it bathes within that soft touch emanating from deep within the Force. When you hear Mace sigh with relief despite the fact that you never answered him about your state of being, you’re sure that he gets the clue that you’re fine but tired.

        Meaning you’re free to just… relax. To focus on something that seems so much brighter and better than the last dredges of that episode.

        You feel safe.

        You feel only Obi Wan.

Chapter Text

        It’s been days after the events of The Phantom Menace and its relatively long series of events.

        After the strange episode that even you didn’t have any semblance of an explanation for, you were taken to the Halls of Healing. You slept for a long time, according to Mace, and by the time you came too, you were alone. But even that didn’t last long because Mace and some others of the Council soon arrived to gently prod you for answers that you, yet again, didn’t have. You no longer felt Obi Wan around you and you no longer felt the hand grabbing at your robes clinging onto something leaking out of a body that wanted to let go but couldn’t— or wouldn’t.

        In fact, you couldn’t feel Qui Gon at all anymore. At least, not from within you. You felt his signature relatively close by. Considering that, you figured he must be in the Halls of Healing too, recovering from his squirmish with Maul. Confined to the bed and checked on often by healers just as you were, though your case was only temporary, you could only hope that Qui Gon was fine and not on his deathbed.

        You had to insist for a while that you didn’t understand what had happened at all and eventually the Council members gave up and begrudgingly left. Doing nothing and resting after that whole ordeal was really the only thing you could do from then on as no one really came by after you told them that you seriously had no idea what had happened. They all looked tired and you remember them all wearing their own brands of weary smiles when you opened your eyes for the first time after supposedly blacking out.

        Even if they were disappointed at your lack of answers, they at least seemed relieved that you were still alive. You can only guess they were all worried for you to some degree. Mace looked like he was about to pass out for one. Perhaps they really were worried for you. 

        Or perhaps they were worried that you and your answers would slip between their fingers. In any case, you did know some of what had happened. You knew you helped Qui Gon in some way, but anything beyond that was still a foggy mystery to you. Still, even that kind of information seems a bit too dangerous to leak out, so you feigned ignorance.

        As you’ve always done.

        When you were allowed to leave the confines of the medical room you'd been stuck in, you went right back to working on your saber techniques and perfecting your weird Force skill that Mace called your specialty. Mace and Council returned to their duties, hoping to grab and tie up the loose strings left from such a troublesome even that had been the Naboo blockade and some other issues. Hearing any tidbits of news from the group proved to give you the most horrible cases of anxiety. 

        Because of course, they didn’t know enough for you to feel truly in control with everything. They didn’t talk about the things you wanted to know, either.

        Your heart wanted to seek out Obi Wan, but something told you that now is not the best time. Whenever you thought of the fellow padawan— or soon-to-be Knight, you suppose, however time is passing in this new timeline— a sting would surface in your heart. His image had been seared into the walls of your mind, but it wasn’t because he had done anything to you, no, it’s because of yourself.

        He was too close for comfort. The comfort of your mind, that is. Your heart didn’t seem to mind the closeness at all.

        Again, you find yourself wishing that you could just take the leap, but instead you take two more steps back. You’re afraid and something tells you you’re wrong. About what exactly? You’re not too sure. You worry more and more everyday so instead of tackling the problem head on, you try to forget about it. There are other things to spend your time worrying, after all, so you try to shove those thoughts back into the box they tumbled out of for even later contemplation. Those thoughts are clearly too much of a distraction.

        You can’t let your distractions take too deep a root, otherwise you’ll be blindsided and all your hard work will go to waste. And seeing as there isn’t a restart button, you can’t afford to be punted back to the start.

        You may not have been able to hear about Obi Wan, but there was plenty to talk about Qui Gon all around you. According to that talk, the Jedi Master had indeed sustained life threatening wounds at the hands of his Sith opponent, but somehow, possibly because of your unwillingness to let him go, he managed to hold out until Obi Wan could get him medical attention. Naboo. Now resting in a stable yet unconscious state in the Halls of Healing, his vitals, as the report said, were perfect and that he was on the steady road to recover physically. Mentally, he’s dormant, stuck in his comatose state for an unknown time.

        But that’s fine. You try not to think about this unfortunate ending too much, but when your mind inevitably does, you reason that whatever condition he’s in right now is a whole lot better than death. Because he’ll wake up one day.

        He will.

        It certainly is a lot better than the other option, but it’s hard to convince Obi Wan when you finally get a chance to speak to him. Or, seeing as you weren’t really seeking him out for a chat, perhaps the Force decided it was time.

“It’s just like you said, there was nothing you could do, Obi Wan. You can’t blame yourself,” you say for probably the millionth time.

        Obi Wan’s nose scrunches up and he seems uncomfortable or put off. You wonder if he notices that you’ve said this a million times already but doubt that he’s been counting during the conversation. He tears his eyes away from yours, sighing into the palm of his hand.

        It’s only been a few days since the Jedi Order learned of Qui Gon’s condition and supposed future before you find yourself standing in the place Obi Wan and you always seem to meet each other at. The comforting glow of the sun falling past the horizon shines over you, but clearly, it’s anything but comforting seeing as Obi Wan remains unsettled.

“I cannot understand what you could be hinting at— if you even are hinting at something,” Obi Wan tells you, almost whispering as if speaking normally is just too much for him to bear. “Is there something you aren’t telling me? Yet another vision that you’ve had about a truth that I don’t know?”

        His voice sounds so hurt and almost betrayed. A part of you screams to tell the truth and tell him that you’re actually from another world and that you’re going to save him and everything. To tell him that you know what the future holds and that you intend to change it. The words don’t come out at all and your mind zips up that secret for another day— perhaps another year or maybe never. You feel like a fool for even thinking about telling him that because you can’t tell him.

        So you sigh heavily.

        Pulling away from the rails, you square your body to the older man and wrap your fingers around one shoulder. Calling forth for as much strength as you can in your body, Obi Wan’s body is suddenly spun around to face you, not the sunset lit sky. Once he’s facing you, you grab his shoulders with both hands and stare deeply into his eyes.

“Listen to me, Obi Wan. I know you’re hurting and I know you’re mad, but truthfully, Master Jinn being in a coma is much, much better than him being dead.” 

        You take in a deep breath and continue staring up at the reddish blonde Jedi staring back with widened eyes.

“I couldn’t tell you because there was no way to contact you when I saw a… another… vision. And you were busy. Danger wasn’t all that was waiting for Master Jinn, Obi Wan. I saw Master Jinn die.”

        Obi Wan’s jaws clench tightly at the confession. It’s clear to you that whatever danger he had in mind when you notified the pair of your “vision,” death wasn’t what he thought of at all.

“You mean to say that…” Obi Wan begins with reluctance, “that Master Jinn could have died?”

        You nod furiously and pull away the hands that managed to take hold of his shoulders. Looking away from his tired and depressed expression, the neutral looking ground seems to be a much better object of interest instead. Especially at this point in time.

“Not for sure, but a possibility.” You glance back up at him and rub one of your arms with the other hand. Suddenly, you’re aware of how cold it is. “So stop blaming yourself. It makes me feel bad for not being able to tell you.”

        Not that you would have even if you had the chance to. There was too great a risk in telling the people here too much of the world this one will turn into.

“You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re the one who warned us first— You’re to be thanked,” assures Obi Wan, clearly more worried about you rather than himself.

“That’s just it, Obi Wan. If you'd been there, you might’ve saved him—” you look up at him and release your arm from the hand. They fall to your sides and you close them into fists— “we both could’ve saved him too. Then, he’d still be here and not in the Halls of Healing being, well, not here.”

        You’re getting too worked up, you realise, so you breathe out a sigh. It comes out a little more bitter than you would want it to sound, but for the time being you try not to worry about it so much. It makes sense that you'd be so bothered by Qui Gon’s condition. He was the nicest and most welcoming to you when you first fell into this world. His open character was a breath of fresh air when the world didn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

        He definitely became a big concern for you very quickly.

“I’m so sorry, [y/n],” Obi Wan suddenly says, leaving you to stare up at him puzzically.

“What are you apologizing for? If anyone, I should be the one apologizing for overreacting like that,” you question in return. 

“No, it’s for being selfish.” You look back up to see Obi Wan looking to the ground with a downcasted expression. He seems ashamed and sad, something you didn’t expect or understand.

        Whatever the case may be, being selfish is to go against everything that is to be a Jedi. You’re not sure why he even thinks he’s a selfish person at all, but you’re sure it must be eating away at him.

“What do you mean? You aren’t selfish at all,” you say in hopes of reaffirming what you believe to be the truth, but he just shakes his head from side to side.

“It’s for the way I’ve treated you. I act as if Master Jinn is only important to myself. I’m ashamed at the fact that I forgot that he’s important to you too,” Obi Wan explains unsurely, lifting a hand to the rail. “I’ve been selfish and I’m afraid I’ve only been inconveniencing you and Anakin. Perhaps I’m not as ready as I hoped to be to take Anakin as my padawan.”

        Well, that might be pushing it a bit. From what you remember, he was a great Master for Anakin.

“Don’t say that,” you say before quickly taking a spot next to Obi Wan. You look over at him and meet his gaze, watching as the blue-grey seems to churn and surge like the ocean during a storm. Even the Force around him seems to shift with discomfort. 

        Seeing him like this is disquieting, to say the least.

        Empathy wells up from the bottom of your heart and you watch as he practically tears his eyes away from yours. His attention directs itself to the empty courtyard below. In this situation, even the leaves from the tree blowing across the grounds seem so much more livelier. You grimace at the silence before closing your eyes. 

        You need to cheer him up somehow. You can’t just leave him like this. As a Jedi, you know he needs to let go of these kinds of feelings into the Force without clinging to them, but the teachings never seem to talk about dealing with the heartache and pain that can still linger and nip at the mind. You had to do something about it to help him. But what can words do? Their effects are pretty limited most of the time.

        But then what can you do? The way his hand is wrapped around the metal railing leaves a lot of room for something to offer some sort of relief. He seems so cold and lonely and the hand wringing the railings drips with desperation.

        And then you get an idea. It isn’t the best route of action, but it is one of many that might work.

        You slide your body towards Obi Wan along the rail while making sure to move slow enough to avoid surprising him, but still fast enough to keep him from being put off. In seconds that feel too long, your shoulder finally makes contact with Obi Wan’s. You can feel him flinch and move away slightly, but you press on. He takes the second touch much more easily, relaxing against you with a soft sigh that sounds like he’s just let go a huge burden or a weight from his body. 

        Feeling safe, you look up to him and feel a small smile rise to your lips when you notice the tension visibly leave his body. 

“I know how much Master Jinn means to you, so I don’t blame you for being a little selfish.” Your voice is more toned down and quiet than usual when you say these words. In any normal case, the recipient of those words would have felt better, but in Obi Wan’s case, he shifts violently.

“The Jedi Code forbids this kind of attachment, [y/n]. How can you say that?” Obi Wan shakes his head. His eyes are burning, demanding for an explanation, and you frown.

“The Jedi Code forbids it, yes, but how do you feel? He’s your Master right?” you answer, shaking your head before turning to look out towards the Coruscanti landscape. “You two are partners. You’re allowed to care no matter what the Code says. I care about you Obi Wan, and nothing’s going change that. Not even the Code.”

        Silence falls over the two of you and you wonder if Obi Wan’s going to tell Mace what you said. Would he report you?

“You’ve never been one to follow the Code very closely—” and Obi Wan chuckles— “I’m surprised by how much of an impact Master Jinn has had over you.”

        His tone reveals to you none of those underhanded intentions you were fearing, so you let those worries go.

“He’s a pretty good role model.” You nod with Obi Wan’s statement and wonder just how much of Qui Gon’s unconventional mindset is within you. Probably not a lot, now that you think about it. Compared to the time you’ve spent with Obi Wan, the time with Qui Gon seems miniscule.

        Your mindset probably comes from being an outsider to the world and the Jedi ways.

“He is,” Obi Wan murmurs gently under his breath. You catch his words and glance over to see him smiling. 

        Satisfied with your work, you turn away and let your eyes take in the sight of busy Coruscant rushing through the air. The sun sinks a little further down the sky, painting the world in oranges and pinks. It’s really beautiful and all seems well. Maybe this is the last time you’ll feel so much peace considering what’s to come. 

        Are you ready for the rocky course of the Jedi world after Anakin being found? 

        … 

        Probably not.

        You feel Obi Wan shift again, this time pressing a little closer to your arm. His touch is heavy but you welcome the man's presence.

“I almost forgot,” Obi Wan begins, his voice low like a whisper, “that I had something to tell you. If it had not been for all the chaos within the Temple recently, I may have remembered much earlier.” 

        You lean forward and peer into his eyes with curiosity. “What are you talking about? You need to tell me something?”

        In your mind, you do vaguely remember him wanting to tell you something.

        He turns his head and meets your eyes. A small smile rises to his lips at the thought of something just before he ducks his eyes away, as if he’s too embarrassed to maintain eye contact for long enough to deliver this sudden message of his.

“Before we left the hangar, I wanted to tell you something, but you told me to tell you when we came back from the mission instead,” Obi Wan answers in a gentle tone to try and remind you.

        Your lips open into an “o” shape as you breathe out the same sound, remembering the promise you'd forced Obi Wan to make so that he could leave sooner rather than later. Only because Qui Gon seemed like he wanted to leave and because you didn’t want to intrude any longer.

“Well, now that I’m back and you’ve yet again helped me, it is the perfect time to say what I wanted to say before.”

        You can feel your body thrumming with anticipation. “And what was that?”

        Your heart beats like crazy behind your chest. What is he going to say? The answer to that question could be one of millions swimming in your mind. What could he possibly be thinking about right now?

“I wanted to tell you how happy I am to have met you,” Obi Wan begins with a startling amount of softness to his tone, “if not for you, I’m afraid I would have no idea where I’d be. Thank you for always being here when I need you.”

        You almost let out a heavy sigh at the gentle confession. It’s nothing like a good half of your expected confessions, but it’s still incredibly great. It’s great that it’s not the words you actually wanted to hear— because those words could very well spell disaster— and it’s also great that they’re the words that they are. They’re great, that’s all you can say about them.

        That you loved them.

        That you loved the person they came from.

“And I feel the same,” you murmur, “who else can handle the level of nonsense I churn out on a daily basis? No one but you.”

        Not even Mace. You’re quite sure you’re only one step away from driving the older Jedi Master insane.

        Obi Wan laughs aloud at your response, leaning heavily against you and sending your heart fluttering up to heights unthinkable. His warmth and touch feel really nice, even though this isn’t really his mind actively thinking about it. It’s just happening. But regardless of that, it’s nice. 

        Really nice.

        Nothing is ever bad when you’ve got Obi Wan with you.

Chapter Text

        After Anakin had arrived at the Temple officially, everyone seems lost within the buzz that follows the appearance of the supposed Chosen One. Though that specific detail is more important to the Council, the rest of the Temple focuses more on the fact that they now have a new recruit who is way older than the usual recruitment age. Beyond those two things, there’s one thing about him that travels the fastest through the Jedi Order no matter who is talking about the young boy.

        That he’s very, very skilled. 

        Over time, as the initial energy of Anakin’s introduction and the events of The Battle of Naboo starts to dwindle into passing comments, the Council starts getting busier and busier. As Mace’s very independent padawan, you do more and more things alone. Not that such a fact is all that foreign to you anyway seeing as you do most of your meditation training on your own anyway.

        Still, you know for a fact that you would very much welcome any changes to your repeating, bland days alone.

“How has training been?” Mace inquires as you relax the cross-legged position you'd taken on the cushion beneath you. Within the safety of an empty meditating room, you could take as much as you wanted from the air without fearing for someone’s safety or sanity.

        But now that Mace is here with a certain goal in mind, you ease off of all that.

“It’s been fine,” you answer with a nod, “I can take in a lot now and not suffer too badly from the side effects.”

“Do you know how much ‘a lot’ is?” Mace questions further. You open your mouth at first to answer the question, only to realise that you actually don’t know the answer you want to give him.

“Not… really,” you find yourself answering, fidgeting with your fingers. You look down to the floor in shame. Mace hums from his seat in front of you, but it doesn’t sound disappointed, rather, it sounds more curious.

“It may be easier to ask how much of this room can you take?” comes Mace’s voice as the sound of subtle shuffling fills the air. It’s very much like him to guide you towards an answer he wants, managing to find it after— maybe— glancing around the room when you clearly had nothing else to give him.

“‘This room’?” you echo as your eyes lift up from your fingers to wander the size of the room. 

        It’s not that you’re not sure of your capabilities, especially having practiced the skill whenever you had time to sneak off for hours on end. It’s more like you’ve already taken all of the Force in the room before. In fact, the past week has been dedicated to trying to take as much as you could past the size of the room, which isn’t at all that hard. All you had to do that was wait for the Force to almost magically return to the areas you'd taken from.

        As if it were replenishing itself for you to practice with.

“Can you do it? As in absorb the whole room?”

        Too bad it’s actually impossible to take all of it at once and leave behind a completely void room due to the automatic replenishing quality of the Force here. Whatever the mechanism behind that is…

“Actually, Master, I can’t take the whole room at once. I’ve tried it before and it just keeps filling back up.” You shake your head at the idea of a self refilling glass of water. “But I think I’ve gone as far as two, maybe three times, this room.”

“Impressive,” Mace comments with a very happy nod, “and the side effects?”

“Blindness for a few seconds and some dizziness when I go over two rooms,” you say, struggling just a little to really explain this inherent ability of yours.

“Very impressive. You’re improving much faster than many of the Council has expected. I’m amazed, [y/n],” Mace says, smiling as his eyes shine with something you guess must be pride or awe. 

        You laugh softly, unused to the compliment, before nodding towards Mace.

“Thank you, Master. I’ll be sure to continue working on it so that it isn’t a weakness on the field,” you promise before remembering how much your saber skills are lacking compared to your Force Ability. “And then maybe practice my saber skills a bit.”

        You watch Mace’s smile grow before he shakes his head and says, “do not wear yourself out, [y/n].”

“I could say the same to you, Master,” you toss back at him rather snarkily. 

        Your quick quip has him taken aback for a moment before he chuckles and the laugh fills the air even as he lifts himself off the seat. With a wave of his hand, his fingers brush over the surface of this clothing, easily smoothing out the wrinkles in the way of his touch.

“Duly noted,” he promises to you, regarding you with a smile that seems to be mirrored within his eyes. But after a heartbeat or so, the smile seems to harden.

        That’s not a good sign. 

“Is something wrong, Master?” you ask, regarding him curiously.

“Yes. It’s about Kenobi.”

        You furrow your brows at his straightforward yet lacking answer. “What’s wrong with Obi Wan?”

“Nothing is wrong with him, specifically. Rather, it’s about him and his new padawan, Skywalker,” Mace corrects quickly, probably sensing your concern for his concern and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m worried for Kenobi. The responsibility of a padawan is great, and for a Jedi Knight as young as himself to take on such a task is… worrying, to say the least.”

        To be frank, you were worried about a fair deal more than just this kind of worry.

“So, uh, why tell me?” you question, wondering what Mace seems to be hinting at considering the fact that he’s telling you about all of this. 

        Does he want your support for something? Support for someone? Who though? Obi Wan? Anakin? Both?

“You’re quite the mature padawan already, despite your young age. Capable too, but not yet ready for knighthood,” Mace starts with a nod, looking at you with a proud look, you think. 

        Well, the praise he’s giving you is quite the grand one.

“I want you to keep an eye on them. Make sure Kenobi isn’t too overwhelmed. If needed, perhaps aid in training Skywalker as Kenobi has not had as much time as the other older Jedi in learning the ways of mentorhood,” Mace continues to tell you. “Kenobi may need another person to confide in during this time, at least until he’s more comfortable with mentoring Skywalker on his own.”

        Right… 

“You two are close, as well,” Mace adds, nearly causing your heart to stop, “and the Council would feel more relieved if Kenobi didn’t need to carry the burden of a padawan this early on his own.”

        It takes you a while to process Mace’s words. You? Help Obi Wan? Be his support? Wow, you were actually right about that one. But really? It’s only little things here and there though, not something grand like raising Anakin with Obi Wan or anything. So yes, you should be able to handle that new job. Why are you even worrying about it so much anyway?

        Why indeed… 

“I’ll make sure to help Obi Wan, that’s not a problem,” you answer, tossing out the rest of your unnecessary and wandering thoughts. Staring at Mace, he nods and closes his eyes for a moment.

“I’ll leave you with your training then, [y/n]. I hope I can trust you to continue the lessons I can’t oversee in these busy times?”

“Of course!” you answer enthusiastically. His smile deepens for a moment before he nods his head and makes his way to the door. Within seconds, he’s left the room and you behind his wake, possibly to go and return to Council work. 

        Poor Mace with all his Council duties. Though, you are glad that he isn’t the type to rope you into helping him manage his work. After all, you have quite the ticking time bomb of a skill to deal with.

        You let out a huff at the newfound silence and then shift a little closer into the middle of the cushion. Giving the room a once over despite having seen this room for a majority of this past month, you take in the details you wonder if you'd seen before but had forgotten within this new life in this new world. You shake the thought from your mind and blink a few times before closing your eyes. With a few deep breaths, you focus your mind on the air around you and the Force that’s being pulled into your body.

        Comforted by the darkness past your eyes and the feel of the Force rushing into your veins, you breeze past the initial choppiness that arises, guiding it into falling in line with the tranquility that spreads through it. The power pumps through your body, making you feel more warm and nice rather than uneven, so you keep going.

        Eventually, a feeling akin to having kept your lungs without air for far too long creeps up to your mind. You push a little further and further, but not too far, before cutting off the constant stream. Soon after you open your eyes to a dazzling white that already seems like it’s melting away and move off of the cushion and onto your feet— an easy process to test the side effects. There’s a small wobble that snakes through your body at first, but that’s all, and the blindness that takes over hasn’t completely blinded you. The dizziness seems to only last for a few seconds too.

        You catch yourself from very nearly tipping over before your mind starts working on trying to figure out how much you took this time.

        Two, no, three rooms this time, and considering that you didn't even push yourself that far, this test ended as a great accomplishment. Which meant— At the idea of a tremendous victory, you give a silent cheer. The power that floods through your veins feels so heavy, but you can manage. You know you can.

        Your happiness is cut short when you notice a presence walking closer to the room you’re in. Eventually, there’s a knock that sounds rather hesitant and slow.

“Come in,” you call out to the mysterious visitor, and before you can reach out to see who it is who sought you out, the doors open to reveal Obi Wan in all his glory.

        Surprise fills your mind for a moment before you catch his weary looking expression. Now, concern is the only thing you feel.

“Did you need something?” you ask curiously, feeling as your shoulders fall from the rigid posture of meditation. 

“Oh no, no. I simply sensed you here and…” Obi Wan trails off, not knowing what else to say after his fumbled speech, apparently.

        Which is a bit weird since he seems to always know just what to say. Something must be troubling him indeed.

        He stands there for a little while, quietly just thinking to himself, maybe. His eyes are still on you, either staring for the sake of staring or looking for some sort of answer in your eyes. Or maybe he’s looking for inspiration to fuel his lost thoughts. He doesn’t speak though, not even after a long while of staring, and nothing he does betrays his silence except for a slow trip from the door to the seat in front of you that had been abandoned by Mace a little while ago.

        Still, even as he takes his seat, gathering the cloth of his robes that splay out from his lap, no words slip past his lips. No words, no outspoken thoughts, no nothing to fill the empty room and worry drains into your body.

“So, ‘sensed me’?” You hum at his words before perking with interest. “How do I feel right now? I have a ton of the Force inside me right now.”

        Looking to Obi Wan and expecting an answer, hoping that maybe your attempt at starting a conversation might help with the awkward silence that falls over the room, it seems your attempts work when a bit of life finally rouses from within him.

“There’s a lot,” Obi Wan starts slowly narrowing his eyes at you in deep concentration, “and you seem very, very powerful. Perhaps even as close to the same levels as a Master in the Council.”

“Really?” you ask with excitement. You see him nod with a small smile and you grin happily. 

        Figuring that you didn’t really need it at the moment, you loosen the hold you have on the Force within you and let it drain back out into the room. You can feel it trickling out of you quickly yet slowly, as if it only had one valve to pour out of. Not that you’re really worried. In this state, you’re pretty much the same as usual, from what you’ve noticed. It’s not taxing at all to let it all go compared to needing to hold it in, thankfully, allowing you to easily hold a conversation or go about daily life as per usual.

        You watch Obi Wan’s expression shift into mild discomfort when you do this, especially since it means you return to a relatively empty state, but with a shift of his body, his serene expression is back within a matter of seconds.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble apologetically anyway despite his apparent peace and Obi Wan glances right into your gaze with a barely-there smile.

“No need to apologize,” he assures softly with a smile. “You’ve been practicing a lot, I see.”

        You smile meekly in return at his tone and words. “I wish I could feel the same amount of confidence in my saber fighting.”

“Perhaps you just need a partner to best you enough times,” Obi Wan offers with a teasing tone, as if he’s suggesting himself for the role. His light tone returns with the comment and relief washes over you. This side of him has always been the best to see on his face, especially after all that has happened to him recently.

“No thanks. You fight really well. I’m going to end up on the other side of the room within minutes of that spar, Obi Wan.” You cross your arms over your chest and turn your nose the other way. 

        The room is silent for only a second before Obi Wan snorts, divulging into a chuckle that you echo just as easily.

“Are you certain you wouldn’t like to give it a try?” Obi Wan urges, leaning a little closer to you from his cushion with a twinkle in his eyes that seems all too challenging.

        You watch him inch forward just a little more before reaching out your hand and tapping the tip of his nose. Grinning, you watch him pull away quickly, perhaps embarrassed by your actions and definitely red in the face.

“I think I’ll pass on your offer, Obi Wan,” you answer with a sly tone. He shakes his head, trying to frown in order to complete the look of disappointment bleeding over his expression, but it doesn’t seem to work out, especially when there’s a huge smile on his face.

        Suddenly, you feel another presence making their way over to the room— 

        psh. thnk

        —who doesn’t knock on the doors either before entering.

“Obi Wan?” calls a voice from the doors.

        Now that’s a voice you recognize even before seeing the owner.

“Anakin, what’s wrong?” Obi Wan asks curiously, clearly used to the voice and Force Signature considering that he hadn’t even turned to look at the boy before answering.

        Still, the reddish blonde cranes his head around to look at the boy standing unmoving at the doors.

“Nothing is wrong. I was just wondering if you wanted to do some practicing,” Anakin answers almost too quietly, looking away from your gaze as if he feared maintaining eye contact with you for too long.

“Well, this room is free—” Obi Wan turns to you and raises an eyebrow inquisitively after his words.

        Assuming that he’s asking you for permission that he’s already assumed the answer for, you nod to answer that yes, the room is free especially for another person. With that, Obi Wan looks back to the young boy.

“We can use this room for some training. Come, Anakin, sit with [y/n] and I.”

        The boy does what he is told, striding over with small steps until he makes it to an empty cushion next to Obi Wan’s. He climbs onto the soft material, seating himself so that his legs hang off the edge before looking up at Obi Wan quizzically. He glances at you for a heartbeat and you make sure to smile first as a greeting.

        You can see the way Obi Wan eyes you, silently telling you that you could introduce yourself to the young child if you’d like to do it yourself.

“You’re Obi Wan’s padawan, Anakin Skywalker, right?” you asked curiously, somewhat forcing the kid’s attention to you. Trying to keep the softest and kindest voice you can muster, you notice the caution in his eyes soften just a tad.

        Which is good. You’re going to need to befriend Anakin in order to fix some of the future, and if you need to act almost endearingly kind, you’ll just have to do it 

        Yet the idea of a friendship with the boy named Anakin Skywalker weighs heavily over your shoulders no matter how much you try to focus on that goal hanging on a single, thin string so far from your grasp.

        You try not to look at the young boy, seeing the man he would grow up to be.

        You try not to peer into his deep blue eyes, wishing that you could have the power to change the future into one you could only dream of.

        You try to ignore the sharp feeling that roots itself into your heart at the thought of Anakin and Padme in the near future, convincing yourself that whatever comes so long as the two are alive and well means success on your part.

        Because that would be for the better.

“Yes, yes I am,” Anakin answers politely with a small nod, acting extremely humble towards you.

“Anakin, this is [y/n] [l/n]. They are a padawan under Master Windu.” Obi Wan gestures to you and you nod.

“I’m Obi Wan’s friend too. It’s nice to meet you Anakin,” you add towards the child. You reach out with a single hand. “Would you like to be friends, Anakin?”

        He seems taken aback at your request, uncertain of how to respond. Staring at your hand, it feels like hours pass before he finally makes a move that luckily isn’t anything like a glance towards Obi Wan as if to ask for permission or something. Reaching out with his own hand, he places it into yours and you initiate a gentle handshake before pulling away.

“It’s nice to meet you too, [l/n],” Anakin greets with a little more warmth in his voice, referring to you by your last name out of respect, you figure.

“Feel free to call me by my first name, Anakin—” You stop yourself there for a second— “I can call you Anakin, right?”

“Yes, it’s fine,” Anakin answers before he glances down to the floor, probably unused to such a soft tone being used towards him.

“Now that introductions are over, shall we begin the lesson?” Obi Wan asks, looking at both Anakin and you.

“Yes,” answers Anakin with a determined nod and you offer the man a pointed glance.

“Yes,” you say as well, smiling at Obi Wan. His smile broadens at your agreement before turning to Anakin to start one of his ever-so-long lectures about the Force.

        It’s a little boring, seeing as you'd read and heard this nearly a million times already, but listening to Obi Wan talk is always a gift, even if that means listening to a long, boring lecture for it.

Chapter Text

        Since meeting Anakin, you'd occasionally accompany the duo to wherever their practice would be. You wouldn’t involve yourself in their lessons unless you’re needed— which seemed to be never— but it’s a nice feeling to have people to go training with. And it seemed like Obi Wan appreciated your presence during these moments. You weren’t entirely sure why he felt so sure with himself while you were around, but you suppose that maybe it was due to the fact that with you around, you could jump in if he needed the help.

        Which was never, but perhaps it was the thought that counted.

        In any case, the lessons they had were way below the level you needed to be working on. Still, if they went for saber training, you followed Obi Wan’s carefully planned lectures and lessons for a little while but would end up facing against a droid for practice off to the side on your own. If they wanted to practice using the Force, you would follow along the two in the halls but eventually find yourself in a different room to avoid bothering Anakin’s lessons with your strange ability practice.

        In your off time to avoid practicing and sparring yourself into exhaustion, you'd still find yourself wandering to the library, reading what interested you and scribbling away in your “interesting” alphabet, as Obi Wan called it. And today, upon advice from Mace, you’re looking into the records for some directions that your skill could take you rather than just training all willy-nilly without really thinking about it.

        Yet, as a Jedi “devoid” of the Force in you, save for that tiny bit that makes up your Signature, all you could really think of as a use for your skill is to just have lots of power drawn into you temporarily to aid you in battle or whatnot. You could take it from your surroundings and boost yourself, which in theory should make you more powerful, so you’d be more powerful in battle, right?

        But is that all you can do with what you have? Sounds pretty lackluster, only being able to take the Force from the air and using that.

        …

        "Only from the air?"

        You stop your mindless scribbling and sit up straight in your seat. With a mind running faster than you could ever expect it to, you ponder the significance of that bit from your mind.

        If you could take in the Force from the air, what’s stopping you from going beyond your surroundings? Could you take it from other people? Or what about the opposite? Could you transfer it to others? 

        That latter one sounds like a bit of a dead end seeing as there doesn’t seem to be many reasons for something like that to be necessary, but the idea of taking it from someone… Wouldn’t that make your skill something truly deadly? Could you even stop Sith Lords by taking their power and storing it within you? Could you then use their own power against them? The air always did feel a little limp before regaining the Force naturally, so maybe weakening them that way could even the grounds if— no, when— you faced them.

        Maybe focusing on learning how to take from rather then take in is the next step… 

“[Y/n]?” 

        The voice leads you to turn and you’re met with someone’s chest and Anakin’s head peering over the table before you look up. Obi Wan looks at you with an amused smile and you regard him with confusion.

“Did you need something?” you ask curiously and Obi Wan shakes his head. 

        You vaguely remember Obi Wan entering the library with Anakin strolling next to him earlier on in the day. After giving you a silent greeting when you happened to look over to his direction, Obi Wan turned his full attention on the young boy he had to be tutoring before leading the dirty blonde child towards a section of the library that was not close to your seat whatsoever, leaving you to return to you studying in peace.

“No, you seemed suddenly taken with something and I wondered if something was wrong,” Obi Wan answers with a chuckle. You feel your cheeks warm at that answer as embarrassment creeps over your person.

“I just thought of something for my skill,” you explain with a shake of your head. Glancing down, you see Anakin looking at your papers with a confused expression. “What’s wrong, Anakin?”

“What language is this? I’ve never seen it before,” Anakin inquires curiously as he points to the words you have scrawled over the page, which acts as a melting pot of all your thoughts, ideas, and facts you pick out from the database that could prove to be useful in the future.

“It’s the language of where I came from,” you answer and Anakin looks up with a puzzled expression. 

“And where’s that?” Anakin continues.

        Ah, the curiosity of a young child.

“I don’t actually know,” you lie easily. “I’ve tried searching through the archives for the language, but nothing comes up. I’m guessing it’s some hidden or lost language.”

“It looks… soft,” Anakin notes, pointing to the round curve of certain letters.

“It is much softer than the letters in Basic,” Obi Wan says in agreement, peering over Anakin while his fingers brush over his chin in the same way Qui Gon used to.

“Can you write something?” Anakin requests curiously. “Can I see how you write in this language?”

“What do you want me to write?” You glance up to Obi Wan and receive a gentle yet amused smile in return. 

“Anything,” Anakin answers with excitement and he starts bouncing up and down on his feet with enough energy to power a speeder.

        “‘Anything’…” Well, what do you write when the request asks for anything?

        … 

        You reach out for an unused sheet of paper, and with it ready to be written on, you scrawl out Anakin’s full name at the top right hand corner. Once you're done, you spin the paper so that the letters face him.

“There you go. It’s your name.” You watch as his face lights up in awe. “Each different symbol is a letter, just like in Basic.”

        He practically buzzes with energy at the sound of how similar it is to Basic, nearly instantly springing into a flood of questions about this and that which can be easily summed up to the fact that he’s very much interested in seeing how the language works and whatnot.

        Eventually, it gets to the point where asking, “did you want to see all of them?” is easier than answering every little question.

        And of course, Anakin nods his head up and down so enthusiastically that it looks like he might end up breaking his neck if he continues at that speed.

        With another sheet, you quickly jot down the two alphabets so that it would be easy for one to understand and read. Drawing on all those lessons about Basic and your own memories of that set of letters from so long ago, you’re eventually left with a chart fit for a child wanting to learn.

        You slide the paper to the young boy and he takes it into his hands with an expression filled with awe and joy. His eyes scan the paper with interest, flickering all over the page as he takes in all the knowledge that he can. The sight is cute, to say the least, and watching as his eyes scan the paper speedily eventually guides you into looking up at Obi Wan eyeing the chart as well.

“Did you want one as well?” you ask the older man with a bit of a playful tone, half joking with him and half serious. His interest certainly amuses you enough to suggest such a thing.

        Obi Wan seems a bit taken aback by such an offer, but seeing as you were half serious, you stare on while twirling the pen Jocasta had given you between your fingers. This is your third one from her, if your memory serves correctly, and you’re sure it won’t be the last.

“Only if possible,” Obi Wan answers with a cough that seems to be for clearing his throat.

        And seeing as it is very much so possible for you, you have no issue in quickly writing out another for the older man to take. He thanks you softly just underneath his breath before looking through it and then folding it with clean strokes into something small enough to fit inside his pocket. He probably will look at it a bit closer later.

“Thank you,” says Anakin quietly and you turn your attention to him with a smile playing on your lips.

“That’s what friends are for,” you assure, watching Anakin’s face brighten next to the table.

“Would you like to join us for saber training, [y/n]?” Obi Wan offers curiously, now that he’s got the chance. You think about the opportunity for a moment and figure you might as well get at least some practice in today.

“Sure. I’ll need to head back to my room and drop off this stuff first, though,” you answer before Obi Wan nods once curtly.

“Then we’ll see you there.” 

        Obi Wan nods his head, but this time shallowly, before making his way through the library towards the entrance. Anakin follows at his side, turning to send you one last wave before rushing forward to keep up with Obi Wan’s longer legs after you wave in return.

        It’s nice, the peaceful times of right now, but you know it won’t last forever. Do you wish for the future to never come? Sometimes you do. Those are the days that you feel fear echo through your chest the most. It’s a good thing you're so empty of the Force, otherwise your negative feelings would’ve been called out by now so much more easily than they might be noticed now.

        Have they been noticed at all? It’s a constant worry that some unsuspecting Jedi Master would walk by you and sense the darkness that seems to be latching onto you like a parasite, draining you constantly. No one has mentioned anything yet, so you can only assume that you're safe for some odd reason. Maybe the emptiness is something like a cloak for those churning feelings.

        Without being too sure, you also can’t risk letting anything get out.

        At this point, not knowing for sure has become such a norm that you're hit with resignation more than anything by the time these thoughts have run their course within your mind. When the trains in your mind slam to a halt with “I don’t know,” you normally give up the thought completely until it strikes you again, returning at full force once more. Even then, it still ends with the same feeling of helplessness so it’s mostly useless except for shortening your lifespan or depleting your sanity.

        You glance at the papers strewn about and begin gathering them into piles of what you want to keep and what to hand to Jocasta for recycling. The pile you end up with for keeping always stands at a much shorter height than the ones you send away to the librarian’s hands. You do try not to keep too many of them. After all, the Jedi Code forbids attachments.

        Pursing your lips as you continue sorting, knowing that whatever happens next, you won’t know what it will be for certain, you remind yourself that you’ll just have to ride the flow and see where it takes you. For better or for worse, this part of time is always hidden within the undergrowth of uncharted territory, hiding dangerous creatures and foes that may or may not have the advantage against you, even with your own knowledge of the past, present, and future of this world.

        There’s little else that can be done otherwise.

Chapter Text

        Anakin starts becoming a little more open with you over time and specifically having been with him for a few days straight due to Obi Wan’s need— or desire— for some company when teaching Anakin, you're surprised at how closely Anakin seems to have taken to you. After all, it’s only been a few days and you really expected the boy to have some sort of hardship in forming deep bonds, especially considering what he’s been through for the greater part of his life, but then again, you’ve been wrong before.

        Or maybe you’re just an easy friend to make. No that you would make it hard for Anakin to befriend you.

        Along with this growing feeling of closeness, when not with Obi Wan for whatever reason, he always seems to be with you. This usually means quite early in the morning before lessons in the afternoon when Obi Wan would send the little boy to do his assigned work that centres around theory work to make up for the years that Anakin would have spent learning had he been raised in the Temple. During this time, as Obi Wan said himself, he himself would be tending to some other things, mainly planning for practical lessons that would take place a little later in the day.

        But either way, Obi Wan is trying, even if it showed strangely in the eyes of other Jedi Masters. While most masters wouldn’t be so distant from their padawan in the earlier stages of their new appointment to one another, such as how Mace used to always be within reach during a large majority of your lessons when you were younger. Obi Wan isn’t in the wrong when he chooses to let Anakin work out the ins and outs of Jedi life on his own. After all, Obi Wan can’t teach him everything. Some things would need to be learned by himself.

        Wouldn’t it? 

        … 

        Probably. Still, you’re not sure if Obi Wan meant for this independence to lead to Anakin searching around for you. 

        You used to be confused as to why Anakin was even up so early in the morning and in front of your door but eventually acquit it to his slave life and the probable need to wake up early to tend to the mechanical shop. You also figure that Obi Wan might have been sleeping for a majority of these times that Anakin found himself wanting to do something. Or perhaps Obi Wan had sent Anakin to go do something, leading him to eventually wander his way to you. 

        The Council doesn’t intervene as Anakin strays more and more often to your side. Mace never mentions anything about so you wonder if they even know that Anakin has taken a clear liking to being with you. Something in you expects that the entire Council knows, only to decide to keep it under the carpet in order to watch Anakin, or something. 

        They are the type to do that, after all. And considering the things they’ve done and will do in the future, you don’t put it past them to simply leave things to how they are in order to see what might happen as a result, probably hoping to themselves that it might end up as a good thing. 

        Which may or may not end up a big mistake on their part… 

        And just when you think Obi Wan knows about these little meetups with the boy, he appears to not know. You never do ask him outright or anything, fearing that you might get Anakin into trouble, but judging from how Obi Wan’s conversations seem to be about everything but Anakin’s troubling wandering when you have the time to chat, you assume that he doesn’t actually know you two are so close. 

        A big assumption, yes understandably, but perhaps rightly so. Obi Wan has always been a worrier, so if he knows of Anakin’s escapades then he’d ask you about it.

        When Anakin does choose to seek you out, you spend a good amount of time chatting. The topics range quite far from all sorts of things until Anakin becomes bored of the topic, and when that happens, you would switch gears into something like Force training, meditating, or saber training. Usually, your sessions would end with Anakin leaving your side and returning to Obi Wan’s, which isn’t very surprising to say the least.

        Glancing down to the dirty blonde mess of hair below your chin, you blink out of your thoughts for a moment.

“Do you need help with that section?” you ask curiously.

        Anakin looks up at your question and you stare back into his bright blue eyes.

        All things considered, it’s a surprise to be sure for you to know that such a boy both cautious about the people around him yet also starved for companionship is so alright with being so close to you. Perhaps he actually likes these kinds of gentle touches, especially after a life where physical kindness like this was only sourced from his mother and no one else.

“No, I’m just reading,” Anakin answers with a smile and you smile back. He turns back to the datapad in his hands and continues reading through the readings that Obi Wan assigned to him as homework.

        You lean to the side and pick up a datapad from your desk, skimming through the notes you’d taken and transferred to the pad. The information mostly consisted of the notes you took while looking at the recorded data of certain Jedi skills. In your search for an end goal for your own skills, something like looking into what’s already been recorded is a nice place to start. You were initially hoping that you could do something similar or create something of your own with the powers described on the screen. 

        Sadly enough, so far that hope has yielded nothing. 

        From what you’ve learned of yourself so far, you can take in almost as much of the Force as you wanted, meaning that theoretically you could do anything you wanted as long as you knew how. You could lift a ship if you really wanted to without too much difficulty once you take in enough to use, and if you wanted to throw it, it only took a little more power that could be easily taken from the already replenished air around you. You could influence the mind practically however you wished and even carrying people was easy.

        Though, the real issue still remains the fact that you haven’t actually tried any of those things, so there's a big chance that fate— or the Force— will make it much harder for you to actually do something like that.

        And at the same time, as a Jedi, you can’t misuse or overuse the Force. You aren’t stupid either. You have to use skills of your own that you could trust, especially in the very possible case of the power suddenly cutting off, meaning that if you were carrying someone, let’s say over a huge hole, and your power suddenly cut off, you’d be responsible for a death that could have been easily avoided. It hasn’t happened yet, of course, but it could.

        And that’s not a chance you have the liberty of taking.

        knck knck

“[Y/n]?” calls a voice and it takes less than a second to recognize the accent and tone to be Obi Wan.

“Come in,” you call back easily before you hear a throat being cleared on the other side of the door.

        psh. thnk 

        Suddenly Obi Wan’s standing at the door, staring with confusion and shock back at you. Around you, you know that your room isn’t very small, but it isn’t very big either. Something in between the size of Barriss’ and Anakin’s room during the Clone Wars, you believe, being one of the many room sizes considered medium in room selection.

“Did you need something?” you ask nonchalantly, watching as Obi Wan lets out a sigh before stepping into the room.

“I was going to ask if you’ve seen Anakin,” Obi Wan begins as he looks towards the said boy seated in front of you, “but it appears that I’ve found him.”

“I’m almost done with the work you gave me, Obi Wan,” Anakin states rather innocently, holding up the datapad in one hand with a tone that sounds like he’s a little proud of himself for almost being done what he was tasked to do. 

“I was expecting for you to be in the library, not with [y/n],” Obi Wan explains as he places his hands on his hips. He looks towards Anakin with stern disapproval and you can feel Anakin’s spirit deflate.

        And you can’t help but feel bad. Especially when he seemed so happy about his work progress just seconds ago.

“Lighten up, Obi Wan,” you say before patting Anakin assuredly on the head, “I don’t mind him here at all. He keeps me company and I help him if he needs it. It’s a win-win situation.”

“That’s not…” Obi Wan’s face scrunches up a bit before he sighs, letting out the tension in his body through his lips as the breath exits his body in resignation. “Nevermind.”

        Since no lecture came from the man, it seems like Anakin switches gears.

“Can I stay?” Anakin asks curiously, looking between Obi Wan and you with something akin to puppy eyes. “Please?"

        From behind Anakin, you raise an eyebrow to the only person who seems to be objecting to his stay and Obi Wan grimaces just enough to be caught by you, but not really enough to be seen by Anakin apparently. Either he’s doing it because of Anakin or you, but you’re not really sure which. 

        Then there’s a long pause of hesitation on Obi Wan’s part.

“Alright,” Obi Wan finally answers and Anakin cheers. 

        Out of victorious celebration, you ruffle his dirty blond hair and he laughs gleefully in his spot before leaning back against you, returning to the reading pulled up on the glowing screen. You lean back against your bed, and after catching Obi Wan’s gaze again, you pat the spot next to you on the floor.

        He takes a few seconds to simply stand and stare before finally stepping closer and taking a seat where you gestured for him to sit. He remains quiet, just watching Anakin work, and you return to your theorizing.

        He says nothing even as minutes pass, and it isn’t until a long while before you feel a touch against your shoulder. Your gaze shifts over to him with a raised eyebrow and you quickly notice how he isn’t looking at you at all, just staring at Anakin from his position against you. Figuring that he must be embarrassed for initiating physical contact with you or something like that, the only course of action you take is turning back to your datapad.

        Then, when Anakin shifts slightly in his spot, you can feel Obi Wan easing onto you more. Soon enough, he’s heavily leaning against you and you can’t help but smile. Even if he still isn’t looking at you, you can tell that he’s at least relaxed.

        Amusement fills your mind, staring at the two so relaxed and calm. You truly do enjoy your time with them, and had you never befriended the two, you don’t know what would’ve became of you. Maybe you’d be very lonely. That’s no good.

        But you know you can’t be this close with them forever. Both of them will end up having someone in the future and it’s only a matter of time before they start to pull away from you. 

        Obi Wan should have already met Satine and had their little romance during their mission while Qui Gon wasn’t looking in an environment that forced a closeness to blossom. Then there’s Anakin. He’s already met Padme and he should’ve developed something like a crush or something on her already. There’s just no room for you as anything more than a friend and that thought hurts the most.

        But that’s just the way it is and it’s not like you can do anything else about it.

        You heave a sigh, placing the datapad to the ground and leaning your head back onto your bed before directing your gaze up to the ceiling. The blank and empty ceiling looks like it’s mocking you and you frown deeply. 

        As much as you would like to stay with the two forever, you know it’s not possible. Besides they’ll have someone else to make their lives worthwhile and happy, especially if you're going to be saving the two women— which you will do— who will be that person the two will have by their side. You didn’t have a place next to them like they will.

        There’s just not enough room for you.

        At that repeating thought, you try to find a moment of calm by letting your thoughts dwindle out into nothingness.

“[Y/n],” calls a voice and you look towards the owner of the call. 

        You see Anakin turned around, staring at you with confusion and concern that seems so out of place in his blue eyes. 

“Are you okay? You don’t sound like you feel okay,” he notes rather matter-of-factly and you’re a bit ashamed at being caught wallowing in sadness.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you answer quickly, “just a bit tired.”

“You should make sure to sleep,” lectures Anakin like he knows a thing or two about good sleeping habits. “Sleep is good for you. You can’t skip out on sleeping, [y/n].” 

        You wonder if he’s just repeating the words Obi Wan or Shmi have said to him before but refrain from asking the boy directly.

“I know, I know, Anakin. I’ll make sure to get a bit more sleep tonight and make up for it, alright?” you reason before the young child nods and grins. 

        That seems to satisfy him because he turns back around to his datapad with a strange amount of excitement towards the material and relief settles on your shoulders. But you don’t return to your sad and thinking self yet, stopping your advances for the depressing thoughts when you feel movement to your side.

        When you turn that way, you see Obi Wan looking up at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m fine,” you mouth to the worried Jedi and he just narrows his eyes. You see him glancing at Anakin before turning back to you and opening his mouth. 

“If you say so,” he mouths back before furrowing his eyebrows further. 

        But true to his word, he seems to accept your clearly lying answer because he shifts before settling again while watching you with a sidelong glance. With a sudden burst of bravery, you lean your head to his and touch the side of your head to his crown. You feel content as Obi Wan begins to still beneath you as if he finds your actions as comforting as you do. 

        And just like that, he seems to believe your dismissive words.

        Too bad you can’t say the same about your mind. You really do feel terrible that you're doing so much only to get so little in return. You guess that’s just the life of a Jedi, but you do wish you could receive more. Or maybe you just needed something to do to get your mind off of all of this. What could you possibly do though? Your research isn’t really getting you anywhere and your training has gotten a little boring as of late. 

        Is there anything you could do for Obi Wan? No, not really. He seems to have his life together from what you’ve been seeing so far. And with Qui Gon’s death avoided, there’s nothing else left to do for him for now.

        What about Anakin? He doesn’t seem to have anything he needs or wants either, you don’t think. He’s perfectly good, just like his master.

        … 

        Or, on second thought. There is something you can do. Something risky and probably, absolutely dangerous and stupid, but it’s still something that you could possibly do. At least, if you play your cards right, it should work.

        That is, saving Shmi Skywalker.

        You breathe out a puff of air slowly, letting your sigh leave you in a steady stream. The idea that swirls around your head is a terrible one, but it’s not something you want to give up without trying first. You actually want to see if it’ll work, but until then, you need a good plan and good timing.

        And it looks like you’ll just have to do some planning for now as it seems like something in the Force tells you that right now isn’t the best time yet.

        Yet, at least.

Chapter Text

        Years feel like they crumble away and you watch as some of everything around you changes. Obi Wan grows older and older with each passing month and his hair grows longer and longer, creeping down the back of his neck. Anakin matures very rapidly, growing taller and taller while his hair seems to darken under the light. His locks almost look brown now, but you could still see some blonde hidden away. The majority of the Jedi Temple, however, doesn’t change as much. It doesn’t even look like anything had changed at all, really, beyond the inhabitants that roam its halls.

“[Y/n]? Are you still there?” calls a voice and suddenly you’re pulled back into reality.

        You look up and see Anakin crouching with his hands on his knees in front of you. His eyes are peering into your face with curiosity and you blink, looking around. You'd completely forgotten that you were in the Training Dojo waiting for a spot to open up for you to practice in. After a long, long while of waiting, you'd resolved to watching Anakin train with training droids but you must’ve zoned out at some point to drown in your thoughts.

        Something you did often these days.

“Oh, sorry Anakin. My mind wandered,” you answer while ridding the tension of deep thought from your body.

“Well that’s no good,” Anakin says almost too simply with an amused smile. He holds out a hand and gestures for you to take it. “Come on, let’s have a spar.”

        Someone sounds excited… 

“‘A spar’? Really?” you echo with disbelief despite the smile rising to your lips. His smile grows into a grin and you roll your eyes, placing your hand into his palm. “Fine, fine, you win.”

        You feel his fingers wrap around your hand, enveloping it with his hands with a strong grip that leads you to standing on your own feet in no time just as he leans into balance as well.

“Obi Wan tells me you’re strong,” Anakin states suddenly, picking up the training saber he had been using against the droids earlier. He could be using his actual saber but you’re guessing he wants to avoid too much damage on the droids today.

“He’s lying,” you correct with a snort, walking over to the selection of training sabers, “because saying I’m strong means I’m close to his level—” 

        You turn your head to the dirty blond and narrow your eyes with a shake of your head for added effect— “which I’m not.”

“I’ve seen you fight before [y/n], you are strong,” Anakin argues and you smile, mostly out of embarrassment to such sudden praise.

“It’s nice to know that you think so,” you reply with a soft voice.

“Don’t you think you’re strong?” he asks.

        You pick up the two sabers you want to use, one with an adjusted shorter blade and one longer to match it, weighing the two hilts in the palm of your hands. You turn around to Anakin and ready yourself for a spar you know will leave you sore, no doubt.

“Strong enough, I guess,” is your answer before getting into a ready position within the sparring zone.

        Anakin doesn’t continue his defense of your abilities— fortunately enough for you— and instead prepares for the spar he brought upon you two. Your eyes stare into his blue irises as he brings the lightsaber close to his face before igniting the weapon and causing a blade to shoot forth from the small object. You follow suit and juggle the blades around slightly within your hold. The feel of the training blades have always had a weird sensation compared to the familiar feel of your actual sabers.

        You stay in position, choosing to wait for Anakin to strike first as it means not rushing headlong into whatever surprise he must have in store for you. That and the fact that saber fighting hasn’t ever really been all that much of a strength for you. After some consideration, you concluded that it might be because you’ve never really been in combat before. Sure the Jedi Temple teaches you the skills you need at a young age, allowing you to practice and hone those skills, but something still remains so… otherworldly difficult about it.

        And so, to beat Anakin in this spar, you need to surprise his apparently gifted head.

        You push yourself forward, channeling the Force through your veins to fuel the much needed strength in your body. Your first move is to direct a blow that he easily blocks with his own blade, and considering that he has both hands on one saber hilt, you’re in a lot of trouble if you try to match the strength of Anakin’s two hands against your single hold. You press on harder evenso, aware of the superhuman strength in you that comes with being Force-sensitive, and watch as Anakin’s lips curl despite the struggle for dominance between the two of you.

“You said you weren’t strong, [y/n],” Anakin notes with an unsurprised grunt before pushing your blade back.

        You can feel the hand that holds that saber being blown back and the strain of the action feels rather horrid. Quickly recovering, you try to strike with your other arm, making sure not to hover too long lest you want a repeat of him blowing the hand away again. 

        But it’s not like you solely rely on your pretty average strength.

        The second strike is a bit of a feint and so your first attack returns to try and catch him off guard with a zap to his other arm. However, he manages to catch that blade after pushing aside the other, creating a cross with your locked blades and some time to chat.

“I’m not,” you affirm before he pushes you back, this time leaving your whole body skidding more than enough steps behind you to allow for some wiggle room. You take the chance to get comfortable again for the inevitable return of such a clash. “I’m just fast. It serves my combat abilities better.”

“Yeah, you’re fast and strong,” Anakin corrects before he presses forward with his saber held above him for one heavy downward strike.

        It’s quite the feat of pure strength, but you try not to falter. You lift a blade to that side and block the strike just enough to cushion the impact for a moment before letting the blade tip down steeply until it rests parallel to your arm. Anakin tilts forward and you spin around the side of his body, swinging your other blade at his exposed body.

        But it's not that easy, especially not against the critically acclaimed Chosen One. He manages to block, of course, and so you chose to pull away due to the low chances of winning that bout that favours Anakin’s strength. He chases you and you’re exchanging blows around the area of combat marked by glowing lines on the floor.

        As you swerve around Anakin’s attacks, returning blows and parrying his blade, fighting as a Jedi, that dance that you always hear when considering force charged battles rings true. Everything does feel like a coordinated routine in which you know exactly what’s going to happen and what is happening. 

        You duck under Anakin’s sweeping blow and you thrust out the shorter blade in your hand. As expected, Anakin guides the crackling energy to the side with his own saber, a move you basically had done to him earlier into the match and your body continues to slide forward with the momentum regardless of Anakin’s blade halting your own. Soon enough, you find yourself staring up at Anakin once your bodies are still.

        Then you see his face change and he smiles.

“I don’t see how you can’t consider yourself strong,” Anakin mumbles lowly but you hear him loud and clear from your position less than an arms length away from him. 

        With a laugh, you jump back and square your body to his again, thankful for the wiggle room that you’d given yourself.

“Well, compared to people as great as Master Windu and Obi Wan, I’m like a youngling again,” you quip, watching and waiting for Anakin to finally make a move against you so that you could return to a defensive position rather than to labour over an offensive position.

“I wouldn’t compare yourself to them if I were you.” He leaps forward and you catch his blade between the ‘x’ that you make with your dual weapons.

        Had you not been Jedi, perhaps this little conversation wouldn’t be so casual.

“What makes you think that?” you ask curiously before he lifts the blade from yours, slashing a wide arc with you in the way.

        You leap into the air over the strike and lash out a leg towards his chest, sending him stumbling back. When you land back onto the ground, you see him shaking out the arm you assume he used to block your unorthodox attack with.

“Well, you’re actually pretty strong, for one,” Anakin explains while shaking out the arm he had used for defending his torso. The saber hums in his hands and you blink, breaking out of your combat concentration for just a moment to smile.

“Thanks, Anakin, you always know how to compliment me,” you say with a soft smile. 

        Not that you really expected for it to happen, but his movements falter just as his eyes widen slightly. Your brain, still focused on the battle, screams at you that this is an opening and you take this chance to charge forward towards him whether or not he’s ready for it. He’s a second too late in reacting to your double bladed attack on his own saber, stumbling in the defensive position that he finds himself in. 

        Lifting your blades as quickly as you can from his defense, you’re equally as quick to send your blade towards his neck before stopping just short of touching his skin. The strain of speaking in the middle of a battle and the duel itself has your breaths ragged by a bit, and in this relative silence, you finally notice the humming ringing next to your ear. 

        Anakin’s training saber is just inches from your own neck, mimicking what you’re doing to his own neck. 

        And with that, you count your losses while feeling kind of glad that he does so well.

“I lose,” you declare before dropping the blade from Anakin’s vulnerable area. You retract the blade from the air, looking towards the two borrowed weapons just to check up on them.

“What do you mean? We tied,” insists Anakin and you look up.

        He almost looks betrayed at such a conclusion.

“In a fair, training battle, I tied with you, but in a real battle, I would’ve lost,” you explain and he stares on with confusion. “The comment, Anakin, I caught you off guard with it. If I never said it, you would have overpowered me. I wouldn’t have lasted long enough.”

        At least when pitted against him of all people.

“I still think we tied,” Anakin grumbles under his breath and you laugh aloud, catching his confused stare again.

“It’s an honour to have a tie with the Great Anakin Skywalker, then,” you say, grinning from ear to ear. You add a wink to further your teasing comment and Anakin just stands there, frozen. 

        But it’s not long before his own lips curl into a smile as his chuckle fills the air.

“Unless you want to be bested by me, [y/n]?” Anakin offers, igniting his blade again. “The Great Anakin Skywalker can deliver your request, of course.”

        You stifle a laugh, snickering at his words before igniting your own again, readying yourself for another spar with the ever-so-fun Anakin Skywalker and his devious tricks. A single second passes before you clash once again.

        He narrows his eyes in concentration but the grin never leaves his face no matter what you throw at him and what he throws back at you. In seconds, you’re locked into another furious exchange of blows. The air is buzzing around you and it’s almost like the Force is bouncing with delight.

“You’re open!”

        With that, Anakin aims an attack to a single hand, catching you off guard for enough time that the impact shakes the nerves and muscles within that arm, sending the saber skittering across the ground and off to the side. Meaning, one less weapon for you to use, but it’s not like you’re out just yet. After all, you started saber training as a youngling with one saber, not two.

        He charges again and you meet him where you stand, deflecting and parrying without really standing at an equal to his raw strength. There’s no way for you to match his strength or even overpower him, but it’s not like you’ve lost all hope. Where you lose in devastating blows against Anakin, you best with experience from the field. And against an opponent clearly bigger and stronger than you, a few special tricks are just what you have up your sleeves in order to trip your foes up a bit.

        You block and send his saber to the side, keeping your saber up and close to your face at the ready. As you watch him move, attacking and swinging at you with deadly precision, you watch and wait for the perfect opportunity for one of the many special tricks that you’ve even won against Obi Wan with.

        You wait and wait until finally, he lunges forward with a simple attack. You move to block his approaching blade but quickly shift a foot and dodge to the side, grabbing his wrist with the one hand that had been recently freed from a saber hilt.

“I knew you would do that,” is all you hear before you feel weightless. 

        Then, almost too suddenly, you’re crashing against something and then skidding across before your body stills and your eyes begin their struggle to readjust to the world. Though it’s far from the “world,” the first thing you see and recognize is the wall and it’s clear to you that you’re outside of the boundary lines.

        Meaning you lost this one, but only if you were playing by those rules.

        You open your eyes a little more harshly, blinking away the dizziness as quickly as you can before leaping to your feet. A bit in front of you are the glowing markers signifying the sparring zone and then a few more feet away from you stands Anakin still ready to meet you again as if to ignore the fact that you’re “out.” 

        Which is fine by you because it means you can get back out there.

        A deep breath is all you need before dragging yourself forward, just as Anakin does, seemingly antsy to finish or at least continue the fight.

        The exchange of blows is relentless and you can feel yourself growing tired. Your body starts to cry at you to slow down your pace for fear of something giving out, but you try to power past that feeling. Hoping to encourage something in you to grow in response to losing energy, the single lightsaber in your hands quivers around in the air a little more quickly for a moment. 

        And just like that, the only thing that seems to grow stronger and stronger is your desire to win.

        There’s a change in Anakin’s fighting as well because it looks like he’s beginning to swing his saber less and less to probably conserve his own energy as you continue avoiding his wrath. Still, they’re not as quick as your strikes might be, and the moment you find that sweet opening, you press on faster than you thought humanly possible with the humming blade rushing before you towards Anakin’s body at the next possible chance.

        You finally still, allowing for the silence to swallow your gasps and panting. Your mind registers this as a quick break, at least, recovering from it’s spike of activity and adrenaline and allowing your eyes to take in your victory: a blade pointed to the side of Anakin’s neck just as he’s about to turn to face you.

“Looks like you win this round, [y/n],” Anakin notes with a grin and you let out a huge sigh of relief. 

        Finally, is all you can think as you lower yourself onto the ground for a bit of a seat while your body still struggles to get enough air to replenish what you'd lost

“That was intense,” you manage to comment, retracting the blade of your single saber. 

“See? Like I said you’re strong,” Anakin continues with a voice that sounds strangely closeby. You look up to see him holding a hand out towards you.

        Just like before, you let him pick you up with an offer of your hand.

“By the way, did you throw me earlier?” you ask with disbelief, puffing a bit with indignation.

“Well, you were going to trip me, so I improvised,” Anakin answers matter-of-factly, even shrugging to complete the act. 

        You roll your eyes and punch him lightly on the shoulder in return for such a snarky remark. He’s about to bump you in return before you hear someone clearing their throat. 

        Suddenly, you’re aware of how many people had been watching your little duel from the second floor. Granted that some are already leaving the audience and that some may have already left, the crowd leftover murmuring to each other is still grander than you would’ve expected. It leaves you ducking away from the attention to rub the back of your neck.

        Certainly, it feels just a tad embarrassing.

Chapter Text

        Movement at the stairs to the side of the training floor catches your attention and you look over to see Mace, Obi Wan, and… Palpatine making their careful and graceful way down the steps. Despite the sight of such an accused presence, you try not to let your inner emotions show too obvious, covering it all up with a bow towards the three men.

        You can’t help but wonder how Palpatine even got into the Temple. What kind of excuse did he have to come up with that would allow for him to enter so easily? Doesn’t he have anything better to do? Like his job?

“Master and Obi Wan,” you greet, hearing Anakin do the same. The thing that surprises you is how he doesn’t greet Palpatine alongside the other two names.

        Does Anakin not know Palpatine well enough to greet him as he does with someone like Mace, whom he doesn’t actually know that well yet? It would be surprising, that’s for sure, for Anakin not to know Palpatine enough to voluntarily greet him, but it sure is a welcomed one. After all, it means that you’ve done enough for Anakin not to go seeking out other sources of warmth.

“You’ve only been improving since we last had a spar. Perhaps I should take a break from Council matters to see to it that I don’t miss my padawan’s sudden growth.” Mace seems to be in a good mood, smiling softly with a voice that’s so calm and serene as he speaks praise towards you.

        That also must mean that your hatred for Palpatine is buried deeply enough behind the walls you’ve raised up.

“Against you, Master, I think I’ll find that the match will end way before I can actually do anything,” you respond playfully. He chuckles and nods, affirming your words with amusement without assuring you that you could actually best him in a spar. 

        Wow.

“I see you tried to catch Anakin off guard with the one you caught me with,” starts a voice and you turn to see Obi Wan smirking, looking rather pleased to know that Anakin bested the move that had bested him.

“Yes, but I forgot Anakin used to watch our spars.” You breathe out a sigh of regret. “It’s a shame I lost the opportunity to trip up Anakin.” 

        When you see Anakin roll his eyes at that, you can only grin.

“The day I let you trip me is the day I’ll forfeit my title of ‘Great’ to you,” Anakin promises slyly before slapping your back. You flinch at the strength of his actions, but you quickly recover.

“Then prepare to give it up soon, Anakin. I’ll trip you up, just you wait,” you vow with a fire burning in your eyes. 

        His lips quirk upwards at your words and he meets your gaze with fiery passion of his own, practically mirroring your expression on his. He opens his mouth as if to respond to your challenging call, but before he can say anything, you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat again. Looking to your side, you realise it was Obi Wan who’d done it both times.

“You two have quite the intense rivalry,” Mace notes with interest, humming lowly and you glance towards Anakin.

“I suppose so,” you answer with a pensive nod, shrugging as you do so while Anakin nods after seeing you glance at him. You watch Obi Wan’s eyebrows lower on his head, darkening the look in his eyes that you can’t exactly put a name to, before Mace shifts in his spot.

“We have a visitor in the Temple today, as you might have noticed,” Mace starts before moving aside to reveal Palpatine, “this is Chancellor Palpatine.”

        Oh, you know.

“It’s been long, Chancellor Palpatine,” Anakin starts rather stiffly, providing a reassuring surprise to you.

“Yes it has, young Anakin. I hope everything has been well for you,” Palpatine answers in return, making the exchange sound almost routinely and rehearsed with no shred of familiarity. 

        He smiles and you wonder if it’s to help dispel the weird stiffness that hangs in the air, but you just blink. It doesn’t seem like the two are close and instead just know each other. It seems more business-y or at least just below acquaintance. Which is good— very good.

        Suddenly, Palpatine turns to you and smiles, revealing his teeth in an effort to look friendly and welcoming all the while disrupting your thoughts and sending a shiver up your spine. Whatever he wanted to do, you can only feel the air churn very subtly, taking on quite the cold yet molten sort of quality.

        Strange… 

“We have not met before. I am Chancellor Sheev Palpatine of Naboo,” he says to introduce himself, bowing down just slightly to seem polite without jeopardising his rank as a chancellor to you.

“I’m [y/n] [l/n], padawan to Master Mace Windu,” you introduce in turn with a low bow, all for the sake of looking welcoming and trusting to the man. When you straighten your back and return your gaze from the floor to the man, you see his smile again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chancellor Palpatine.”

“It is my pleasure, as well, to meet such a fine young Jedi,” Palpatine states warmly but all the warmth feels so false to you. 

        Still, you smile, and your prayers are heard when he turns away to Mace. You can hear them exchanging some words along the lines of being done with his little escapade from his work or something and you praise the work of the Force or whatever in having a hand at getting the man away.

“May we meet again, Anakin, [l/n],” Palpatine bids in farewell before being led away by Mace and Obi Wan.

        Good riddance. And seeing this feels like the perfect time for a little interference… 

“There’s something off about him,” you mumble lowly while shuffling closer to Anakin, “I don’t think you should get too close to him unless you have to.”

“Really? He seems nice,” Anakin notes with a curious yet thoughtful tone. 

        You watch as he raises an eyebrow with his words, regarding you in surprise at the idea of you judging someone so quickly easily. Still, he doesn’t seem at all that put off about your suspicions. He just seems to… give it some thought for a moment.

“I don’t know. Something about him just seems off,” you answer and Anakin twirls the saber hilt in his hand.

“There’s nothing off in the Force,” he says almost too simply.

“That’s why I’m so suspicious of him. My instincts tell me something’s off, but I don’t feel anything,” you explain with a shake of your head.

        It’s really annoying to have to act stupid but still need to nudge him forward.

“Huh,” Anakin breathes out slowly, looking towards the direction that Mace and Obi Wan took to lead Palpatine out of the Temple. “Then I’ll remember that next time he talks to me, but I don’t think he’ll be very interested in me.”

        Why wouldn’t any self respecting Sith Lord not be interesting in the Chosen One— turning him, killing him, or otherwise?

“Why’s that?” you ask curiously, turning your head from the route Mace and Obi Wan left behind to look into his blue eyes.

“Because he sounded more interested in you.”

        This time, you let the disgust show on your face because it’s not like anyone other than Anakin is watching when you hear those words. You open your mouth to speak, but when nothing comes to mind for you to say in response to such strange and horrible words, you simply close your mouth and shake your head rather violently.

        You feel a hand easily enclose your shoulder and you look up to see Anakin smiling, but with the confident smile he had on earlier. Now, he looks… almost soft. “Don’t worry, [y/n]. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you, alright?”

        And that certainly is nice of him, but you’d much rather prefer for him to keep watch over himself a little more. 

“Thanks. I’m counting on you, then,” you respond with a nod, placing your hand over his.

        You don’t stay like that for very long for fear of being seen and having rumours floating around about the dubiously close relationship you have with Anakin, so you pull your hand away quite soon afterwards. He seems to take the hint that you don’t want to be doing something like that for very long— or he doesn’t manage to catch that, you don’t know— and he takes his from your shoulder. This allows you to walk off and pick up the training saber you’d lost before from the ground.

“Want to go again?” you hear Anakin offer, looking up to see him nodding to the saber you’d taken from the sidelines.

        You laugh at his suggestion and raise your sabers, fully aware of how you're going to lose this round against Anakin. Though you don’t know why you believe this, as you may actually win this one too, something in you seems to agree with the fact that the Chosen One will be the victor this round.

“Ready when you are, [y/n],” Anakin says with a grin.

“Ready, then,” you answer before he charges forward, saber ignited and battle face brought forth as he willingly chooses the offensive role in the spar this time.

        The worry in your heart is small but you know better than to think that it won’t last. It’s going to grow, and once it gets out of hand, screaming at you to seek help and support, you're afraid it’ll be way too late.

        But then again, maybe it won’t happen. It can’t be too dangerous to wait and hope that that’s true, right?

Chapter Text

“A...ni…”

“Ani…”

        … 

        … … 

"Anakin! ”

        The disembodied voice that booms throughout your head jolts you awake and you frantically look around your surroundings for the origins of whatever so violently roused you from your sleep. You’re fearing for the worst, just waiting for a ghost or a murderer to leap out with that same voice and attack you or whatever, but nothing happens.

        Absolutely nothing, meaning you, in some sort of way, saw something— meaning that might've been a vision. An actual vision, of some sort.

        Well, to assume that the voice belongs to someone with less than good intentions might be a bit much considering what the voice was saying, in any case.

        All you see is your lonely room within the Jedi Temple lit up just enough to see within the darkness under the moonlight filtering through your small window. A sigh slips past your lips and you lift your hands up to rub away the last of your sleep.

        Your mind replays the voice you heard, and although you don’t recognize it personally, you know who it belongs to. Or at least you're pretty sure you know who it is— someone who cares for Anakin.

        It can’t be Padmé since she doesn’t appear in Force nightmares yet, or at least she shouldn’t. She should be perfectly safe right now, governing over Naboo on the throne as Queen. You still have to wait for her to marry Anakin first before any problems start to arise. And it would be weird for you to see her anyway since you don’t even have any connection with her and neither have you met her, so she’s off the list.

        The only other viable candidate, since the voice sounded distinctly female, should be Shmi, as she’s the only other important female in the story as of the moment. Though, it’s not like you have any semblance of a connection to her either. 

        But to be getting a dream about her? Now? The world is still balancing in the middle of peace time and nothing should have happened to her. That and the fact that you haven’t come up with a good plan past the general idea of getting her out of Watto’s hands before she gets passed off to Lars. Since the Force is showing you the dreams now, it must be the time to act, meaning come up with a full and complete plan now and then dash off later.

        Later meaning maybe tomorrow since it might be best to act faster rather than be sorry later. The Force wouldn’t just do something like this randomly. It isn’t like it to do that, anyway.

        So what’s the plan? You hum within the darkness, tugging the blankets off of your body as the drowsiness of sleep begins to creep off your mind to make room for the big question. You lower yourself to the ground, sitting in a manner reminiscent of meditation and you let your mind wander carefully along nearly infinite paths of possibilities.

        First thing you need is an excuse to leave Coruscant.

        A mission? Is it possible to just leave alone? What you need is a really, really good reason to leave alone for a while. A way to keep Mace off your back and cut communications for a while, if needed. Some way to be under the radar of the Jedi Temple. Some way to choose where you go and what you do. Something…

        …

        Well you can always go with your age old tactic of hiding everything under a vision, you suppose. You’ve done it before and you’re sure that at this point, everyone just assumes that you’ll pop out another one of these days.

        Tomorrow can be that day.

        Now what you need is a way to get Shmi out of slavery, but the only thing that would work is money, and as a Jedi, you have nothing like that. Nothing that could be sold or any spare credits lying around either. Still, money is what you needed because Watto won’t accept anything else.

        Humming with vague irritation, you try to dispel the emotions as quickly as they come before moving to your table side dresser, looking for something to use. Fumbling for a while, you grab something and narrow your eyes. It’s just the disc that holds the holograph of the mural wall from that temple. You can’t sell that and you doubt Watto would want something like this anyway. You put it down and scowl before your mind wanders off to whatever else you might have.

        And it dawns on you that you do have other things.

        The antique artifacts or whatever they actually are from that temple you were in should be worth something.

        With a hand shifting to the control pad on the side of your side table, the lights turn on and you're blinded for just a few seconds before you make your way over to the closet. A single press of a button and the doors slide open, allowing you to look down to the small cloth bag filled with the things Qui Gon had collected under your younger child self’s Force controlled body’s guidance. You drag the bag out from the closet and seat yourself on the ground again, opening the sack to look into it at the contents within.

        There are lots of things inside that you can remember having seen within the bag before. Gems and minerals that looked different from each other, a sack that contained small ore-like materials coloured in dark grey, metal pieces that seemed to be shaped into something you couldn’t tell, and a heavy cube made from metal too, you think. It definitely isn’t a holocron, but it does have a symbol carved on one side. It’s the Jedi Order symbol, you're pretty sure, but that’s all you could tell from it. 

        In fact, that’s all you could tell from anything in this bag.

        You hum, staring at the assortment of goods laying on the bag atop the floor. You don’t really know what any of the objects are specifically, but something tells you the only things worth anything are the gems and the small bag of ores, so you put the other artifacts back into the bag and turn to the crystals and ores.

        Considering that the gems are in a random bunch and not a collective group, they probably aren’t worth much either and you put them back into the bag and you're left with the remaining bag of metallic greys.

        On it’s own, the bag weighs pretty heavily, almost spilling over within the palm of your hand. Feeling somewhat bad about using it all, you take out three pieces and place them back onto the bigger bag. The bag still feels heavy and you guess you owe that to the shocking size of each piece. They don’t have sharp ends like some of the other gems you had either and instead are relatively flat, like they had been chipped off of their birth rocks or whatever these came from.

        You split the group into uneven halves, leaving one batch with more than the other. Rounding up the batch with more, you shove them into the small bag and make your way to your closet again. There’s a piece of cloth in your closet somewhere— a handkerchief of some sort, you think, but something you didn’t even remember the origins of anymore— and you place the last four into the centre before tying up the ends together. If the larger batch ends up not being enough, the last little bit should be enough as extra.

        Returning the artifact bag back into the closet, you place the needed two sacks onto the nearby bedside table before deciding that you have too much to do before sleeping again, such as running through your plan again until it reaches near perfection.

        First is the claim of having a vision that grants you some time out. Next, you'll head to Tatooine and use these weird ores to get Shmi out of there. Next… next you'll…

        Then you realise that you have no next step.

        Where could you put Shmi? Where is safe enough to leave Anakin’s mother in the midst of a delicate time where Palpatine’s probably creeping in and trying to influence Anakin? You can’t keep her on Coruscant since you have nowhere else but the Temple to go. If only you could find a suitable apartment or some place like that around here, but even that is a risk in itself. You know Padmé gets some sort of apartment, but that doesn’t happen until she becomes senator. 

        And that’s not until around the beginning of the Clone Wars, which hasn’t happened yet, making Padmé still the queen of Naboo.

        …

        So what about Padmé? Naboo is a safe place. You don’t know Padmé personally, but you know she knows Shmi, so all you need to do is probably just speak to Padmé. You know that she’s a reasonable person beyond being trustworthy, so she’s a good place. So as long as you’re able to convince her to take Shmi in once you've secured her.

        Despite how easy it sounds, you know that the level of persuasion needed for this mission is very high. And that worries you. Truly, the vision gimmick is a gamble. But… for now, it sounds like a good enough plan: tell Mace, leave, meet Padmé on Naboo, get permission, meet Wattoo, get Shmi, drop back on Naboo, and then get out of there so that you can get back to the Temple.

        It seems like that’s the plan and you have to go with it for now.

        So you shuffle up to the head of the bed, throwing your head onto the pillow before burying your face into the soft material with some hint of reassurance. The fatigue attacks your senses again, but you don’t dare to check what time it is. Judging by the moon in the sky, it’s still late. Or maybe it’s early. It’s hard to tell.

        A yawn slips past your lips and you pull the blankets up to cover your body. As you relax back into sleep, you try to calm your body for the possibly exhausting day, or days, you knew you had coming up. You feel jittery about the thought of your quickly and hurriedly formulated plan, but you know that with the time you had to come up with it, it’s fine. You just have to hope that it’ll all go well and not become a hell show like your mind thinks it’ll become.

        Maybe you should try to have some faith in yourself too. And in the Force as well, of course. You need to believe that you can do this.

        You need to be sure.

Chapter Text

        The morning that follows is filled with a terrified dread that you have to force down your throat as you psych yourself up for the plan that’s about to swing into motion. For a small moment of your day, you wish you had a mirror in your room to be looking into as you tried to psych yourself up like in those movies from a world far back, but you don’t have anything like that and somehow that really sucked. 

        Clearing your mind of these weird thoughts, your hand reaches out to grab your robe from the stand next to the door. Before leaving, you decide that you can try your luck with calling the man with the commlink you’re already pulling out from your pocket before trying with your lie in person. So your fingers press the buttons rather routinely for Mace’s link listed within the little device.

“[Y/n]? Is there something you needed from me that required you to use your commlink?” you hear Mace answer with confusion.

“Yes, are you busy right now? I was going to come and find you to talk to you about something,” you answer casually, hoping to make it through the first part of your plan as smoothly as possible.

“I was just about to enter a Council meeting but I can spare a few moments for this call. What is so urgent?” Mace explains, his voice fading off for a moment in the middle as if he looked up from the commlink.

        Well, if he’s in a rush, he may not pester you too much for details. Especially if the business he needs to get into is Council work. And so, you make yourself comfortable and ready yourself for the first lie of the day.

“I had a dream,” you start, swallowing your uneasiness.

“‘A dream?’” Mace repeats with curiosity.

“I think it was a vision,” you answer before he can say anything more. “I saw myself leaving Coruscant but I don’t know where I was going. I think it’s urgent.”

“And you want to follow this vision? See where the Force is calling you to?” Mace adds, reading your lie for what was written, not what it was hiding.

“I would like to or at least to check things out,” you say with a nod. “I want to leave right now, too. I just have a feeling that I should.”

“If you believe you should, then by all means. Visions are not something to be taken lightly. I know you can take care of yourself wherever the Force may be taking you, however, you must be careful of where you go. I cannot guarantee your safety.”

        Oh, well that was easy.

“I know, I’ll keep that in mind, Master,” you reassure quickly before Mace sighs through the commlink.

“I’ll update your status to ‘Independent Excursion’ once my meeting is finished. You can go ahead to the hangar and take the ship that will be ready for you in a few moments as soon as you are ready to leave.”

        Great… That was… smooth. It’s almost smooth enough to make you wonder when it’ll all crash and burn.

“Thank you, Master, I’ll be sure to return if nothing happens.” Your finger hovers the disconnect button as you await Mace’s final words.

“Stay safe, [y/n], and may the Force be with you,” comes Mace’s response.

“May the Force be with you too, Master.”

        With that, you end the call and breathe out a sigh.

        Now there’s no time to wait. Before anyone can stop you from heading out with such a flimsy sounding excuse, it’s best to get going. After all, it would be nice to get to Tatooine while it’s still daylight. And you have to get to Naboo and speak to Padme first.

        Your hands grab the bag and the bundle filled with the important-feeling metal, attaching the bag to your hip before shoving the other into your pocket, you frown at the uncomfortable feeling but at least it isn’t easily seen underneath your outer robe.

        You look up from your clothes and scan the room. It almost feels like you're saying goodbye, like you know for a fact that this trip might end up backfiring on you and literally be the reason for your death. Before that depressing thought can haunt you any further, you chuck it out of your mind as best as you can.

        However this might end doesn’t matter. You still needed to try, at least for Anakin. Clenching your fingers into a fist, you take in a deep breath and turn away from the room for the door, leaving the space you’d grown to love for what could be the last time.

        It can’t be the last time. You won’t let it be. You have to see things through right.

        As you make your way through the hall, chanting those words of encouragement over and over like a magical spell or a mantra, you notice a pair of people before they notice you. Though, it’s only a lag of a few seconds because their eyes flicker to you in seconds.

“You look worried,” Anakin starts almost immediately, furrowing his brows together and creating creases in the skin on his forehead as he makes his way over to you with Obi Wan at his side. “What’s happening?”

“Oh, I’m just heading out,” you answer vaguely as you wave your hand dismissively. Obi Wan’s face contorts, probably from your dismissive tone, and you start worrying.

“‘Heading out?’” Obi Wan echoes, “on a mission?”

“I had a vision, I think. I need to leave Coruscant for a little while,” you explain and Obi Wan’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“You had another vision? That’s incredible,” Obi Wan breathes out with slight awe and you chuckle meekly.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do yet, though. I’m just heading out and seeing if there’s something the Force needs me to do.” Your eyes jump to Anakin to see him frowning.

“Are you going for a long time?” Anakin asks curiously and you shake your head.

“Just a few days at most, I think.” You smile, hoping that it might be enough to deter him from asking any more. “But I don’t know for sure.”

“Do you need company?” Anakin continues with a cheeky grin and you roll your eyes at his words.

“No, I think I’ll pass on the company this time. I don’t want to be a bother when I still don’t know what I’m doing yet.”

        Plus, this is a plan you need to enact alone and Anakin is the last person you want with you on this trip

“Are you sure that’s a good idea then?” Obi Wan asks while crossing his arms over his chest. You blink in surprise at the extremely worried look in his eyes.

        Evenso, you shake your head.

“I personally think I’m just going to be running off and realising that it’s nothing,” you continue lying before returning your gaze to the older Jedi. “But there’s no hurt in seeing what happens.”

“Well, as long as you’re sure,” Obi Wan says slowly with a defeated tone. Anakin looks like he wants to say something too, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t look like he likes the idea of you running off on a wild goose chase. Then again, neither does Obi Wan.

        Not that you can blame them for that.

“I am,” you assure before smiling again. “You don’t think that you can take care of myself?”

“It’s not that!” Anakin blurts out, clearly bristling, and Obi Wan sighs.

“I agree with Anakin, no one implied that. It’s just…” Obi Wan trails off and he goes quiet for a moment. “I’m just worried you’re moving too quickly into this vision.”

        If only they knew what this was all about… 

“Well, it’s great to know you two worry about me, but you don’t have to worry so much. I know the extent of my abilities and I’m prepared to run back to the Temple if anything terrible happens,” you offer to the two. “Besides, I already promised Master Windu that I would stay safe.”

“If you say so,” Obi Wan says, still unconvinced. 

        In response to that, you reach out to pat his shoulder as well as Anakin’s.

“I’ll be back soon, alright?” You draw back your arm and the two nod with sullen expressions. You grin at your heart warming at the concern the two have for you. “If it makes you feel better, you two can see me off.”

        Anakin glances to Obi Wan, awaiting some sort of answer from his master. Obi Wan contemplates the offer before glancing back to Anakin. The two don’t hold eye contact for long before Obi Wan turns back to you with a nod. 

“Well, it’s time for me to get going,” you declare, shifting a foot to the direction of the hangar. “Whatever comes next won’t be waiting any longer.”

        The two men give you a nod, resigning to the fate that you’ve long since accepted. You see Obi Wan shift his foot first towards the direction of the hangar bay before he takes the first steps of the three of you. 

        He leads the group in a heavy silence and neither does Anakin or you try to overcome the solemn atmosphere. You don’t bother too, fearing that if you opened your mouth, more of your worries about this mission would leak out into the open. All you can do is watch as the walls of the seemingly endless hallways pass you by for the last time, possibly.

        No, you'll make it back, you tell yourself. This has to work. The Force is working with you, you just know it. You're not working alone like you keep believing you are. You have something there to provide you with the support you needed if you needed it.

        psh

        You look up at the telltale sound of a door opening at your arrival and see the hangar bay stretching around before you. When Obi Wan steps forward into the large room, you follow behind him, listening as the doors behind you collide shut. 

        Before long, you’re met with a readied single piloted starfighter. Those ones you haven’t been in very often. The only reason you really know it’s yours is because someone greets you with a wave before they gesture to the ladder already placed down and ready for you. At the very least, R15 pops out from the side, throwing a string of happy beeps your way, before lifting itself into position.

        At least someone’s ready for all of this… 

        Without further ado, you allow one last sigh to slip past your lips. It’s time to make one of the biggest changes one in your position can make.

        Whether you like it or not, it’s time.

Chapter Text

        You stop yourself halfway up the ladder and turn your head around. You can see Obi Wan and Anakin watching you climb with eyes following you carefully. The two look fearful and sad, but so skillfully covered up that even the Force around them doesn’t betray the emotions no doubt bubbling in their hearts. If you'd never spent so much time with them, watching almost every move and learning the subtle hints of their moods, you'd probably not been able to pick up this many clues about their moods.

“You know, if something does happen on this trip, the last thing I want to remember is you two frowning,” you confess with an amused smile. The two turn to look at each other, staring at each other’s frowns before turning back to you. 

        Obi Wan’s frown deepens, much to your displeasure.

“You shouldn’t say things like that, [y/n],” he advises lowly and you give a small laugh.

“Then give me a smile,” you request playfully, “a cute smile from you two’ll be enough to keep me from doing anything stupid, you know?”

        Immediately after your words, the two burst into a different shade of red and pink within a matter of seconds. The two open their mouths, speaking over each other quickly yet incoherently, struggling to find the right combination of words to respond with. You watch as they continue to fail miserably before figuring that you should show some mercy.

“I guess that’ll have to do.” With a wave of your hand, you take another step up the ladder. “I’ll see you two in a few days at most. Don’t go doing anything stupid while I’m gone.”

        Obi Wan’s face softens and you watch his lips curl at one corner before parting for him to say, “may the Force be with you.”

“May the Force be with you, [y/n]. Stay safe,” Anakin blurts out quickly like he’s worried that he might not say it in time and you nod. 

“May the Force be with you two, too,” you echo before turning away. 

        You climb the rest of the ladder rungs and settle into the seat. The pilot’s headset is quickly placed over your head as your fingers run across the control panel, tapping away at the buttons Mace had taught you the meanings of. Soon enough, the fighter is whirring to life.

“Alright, R15, we’re heading out on a trip. You ready?” you ask through the headset.

        A flurry of chirps responds to your question, and although you couldn’t understand it, you still feel the glowing warmth that accompanies the droid’s presence. You can see Obi Wan and Anakin as well as the technicians of the hangar bay with one glance out the sides of the cockpit. One is wheeling the ladder away and the other is glancing between his datapad and you. All that’s needed now is a curt nod to Obi Wan and Anakin.

        Your hand moves to another button and glass starts to slowly come down from above. Once you're properly entombed, a single jerk of the control sticks sends the fighter’s engines roaring to life. Another deft push of the control sticks again and the fighter turns around to face the open sky of Coruscant before soaring off, finally.

“Padawan [l/n], your hyperspace ring is ready for use,” states a voice through your headset.

        Now that you think about it, Mace must trust you a lot to let a padawan go running off at the first sign of a vision.

“Thank you,” you answer back, turning the control sticks to the grey and red ring floating about in the nothingness of space.

        You make quick work with obtaining the ring, and soon enough, you’re ready to begin the next step of your plan.

“Set course to Naboo, R15.”

        Several words and phrases appear on the screen coded in Basic, detailing the newly designated destination. Several windows flash onto the screen, calculating things automatically as R15 gets everything set up. In the blink of an eye, everything disappears and the happy chirping of a droid sounds in your ears, telling you that all preparations have been completed in record timing.

        Now, you’re able to push the control stick forward, launching the ship through the void of space until the stars begin to blur into white streaks of light lining the scene around you. Before long, you're thrusted back into your seat and into your jump and left with a good while of free time to worry, relax, and make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.

——

—

        Even if you hadn’t been paying attention to the world outside the glass of your fighter, you would have still known when you’d leave hyperspace. What with the loud noise echoing as your ship drops to a standstill. It’s all just impossible to miss, even without the loss of streaking stars. Well, unless you were sleeping, you suppose, but you weren’t.

“Alright, R15, let’s drop the ring and head down to Theed,” you say before R15 affirmatively beeps its answer.

        The sound of the ring being disengaged fills your ears and that’s the cue that sends you soaring into the planet’s atmosphere. You watch as the idyllic scene of Naboo whizz by you in colours both dim and vivid and the incredible scene before it gives away for a landing zone where gentle guidance of your fingers is enough for the fighter to prepare for landing.

        Once you feel the ship lurch slightly when it comes into contact with the ground, you tug off the golden headset from the side of your head. The hood resting on your back is tossed over your head and you stand up from the pilot’s seat just as the glass above you slowly moves off the cockpit. A few steps is all that’s needed before you’re out and off of the ship, leaving R15 to sit cozily within its spot.

        Not that you really need the droid following after you. After all, you’re itching to get things started and done as fast as possible. Stalling will only make you more nervous.

        With the impact of the ground beneath your feet comes the sound of another pair of feet walking closer to you. Upon closer inspection and eyes lifting from the ground, you see a man making his way towards you with a datapad in his hands. The man in charge of the landing area, you assume.

“A Jedi?” he comments with curiosity as he glances from your clothing to your ship. “What can I help you with?” 

        His tone sounds like he’s in awe as well as worried or even scared.

“I need to speak to the Queen,” you state hopefully as you watch the man from beneath the edge of your hood.

        And before you start to wonder if you’ll even be able to see Padmé today, you're eventually guided into standing in front of a young woman seated on what looks like a throne.

        She’s dressed in heavy robes coloured in a regal and deep red that contrasts with everything else about her except her hair and the lighter red accents painted on her face. It’s her signature look, with her hair done up elaborately and swinging minutely with every twitch of her body as she stares on with a calculative silence befitting a queen.

“What does the Jedi Order need with us today that did not require a transmission to be sent first?” the Queen asks and you swear it’s Padmé underneath all that makeup and cloth.

        Which is good. You need to be sure that you’re talking to Padmé.

“It’s not the Jedi Order that needs your help at the moment, it’s just me,” you explain before pulling the hood back and off of your head. You stare into her eyes and try your best to steel your gaze against her own heavy gaze. “I’m looking for Padmé Amidala. I’m assuming you’re who I’m looking for?”

        She doesn’t react too much, only glancing to her sides towards two attendants. They glance back at her and then the woman looks back to you. The fact that she barely reacts is a sign that she must not want to reveal her true identity to any random stranger, even if that stranger is supposedly from the Jedi Temple.

“Anakin told me about you,” you decide to start with, catching her eyes widening slightly at the mention of that. “I’m looking for someone I can trust to help me with something. Can we speak in private?”

        The room falls into a deafening silence for a moment before the Queen stands up from her throne. She doesn’t take too much time at all to decide her course of action, you realise, practically standing up immediately after the silence took its first roots.

        Maybe it’s because she knows that you know Anakin and the fact that she might be doing this because of your connection to Anakin hurts, but it’s to be expected. She walks up towards you and gestures to the door with a small smile— the first that you’ve ever seen in person.

“Would the garden suit your need for privacy, Padawan [l/n]?”

Chapter Text

I don't like doing this but my schoolwork calls and I've been having less and less time to edit the chapters (I have them all written but it takes a while to actually go through it all). I'm going to have to go on hiatus for some while until my workload decreases a bit, but for every missed Saturday, I'm going to make sure I make it up. So expect like 2 chap the next time I post, I think. Unless I miss 3 Saturdays, then you'll get 3 new chapters.

i would delete this but.... the comments genuinely make my day everytime i get a chance to read them :')

Chapter Text

        The suggestion seems like a good one, so you bow your head before the Queen.

“I wouldn’t know for sure, since I’ve never been here before, but if you suggest it then I think it will be perfect,” you answer politely before lifting your head. 

        You watch as the Queen smiles again, turning to glance at her two attendants. 

“If you want, they can come,” you offer hopefully, fully aware of the trustworthy nature of her attendants. “I’m sure I can trust them to keep what I have to say a secret.”

        The Queen gives you a nod, though not without eyeing you curiously, and then you’re off. As to be expected, the building is huge and the hallways look like they stretch on for miles and miles, just like the Jedi Temple now that you think about it. Through the many doorways and hallways that seem just as extravagant as the Temple, but with a little hint of something else, you find yourself lost in the surreal sights of the palace. 

        The silence feels stuffy and unbearable as you stride through the halls to where you assume is the exit of the building to the garden.

“So the Jedi Order didn’t send you?” asks the Queen from your side and you look up from the greenery all around you.

“No, they didn’t. I’m here for something a bit more personal,” you answer before glancing a bit nervously to the woman. “You are Padmé Amidala, right?” 

“Yes, yes, I am,” Padmé answers with an amused chuckle.

        Ah, good.

“Alright, just making sure. What I came for is a little too personal for Jedi liking. I need to make sure I’m talking to someone I can trust.”

        She looks on at you with curiosity. “You have quite the confidence in me,” she comments with a hum.

“Anakin trusts you, so I do too,” you reassure her without missing a beat.

“How…” She doesn’t seem to finish even after a few seconds of silent walking and a glance towards her doesn’t give you an answer of what she wants to say or if she even wants to speak at all.

        So you’ve got to take a bit of a gamble.

“He used to talk about you a lot when he was younger. He doesn’t talk about you all that much now,” you answer, thinking that her question would have been about the reason for why you knew about her. 

        You pause in your thoughts and wonder if she was actually going to ask about how Anakin is these days. 

“He’s doing well, in any case. He’s kind and confident and grew up a bit cocky, but otherwise is doing fine,” you say rather offhandedly, nodding your head to the side to acknowledge his less-than-best quirks.

        One look towards the woman tells you that you answered correctly. Even your little comment has her smiling fondly.

“He sounds like he’s doing well,” Padmé comments so softly that you almost couldn’t hear it. “Anyway, what about why you’re here? What is it that I can help you with?”

“Do you remember Anakin’s mother?”

        You can see the way her serene expression falters.

“Did… did something happen to her?” Padmé asks and your eyes catch the barely visible quivering of her lower lip. Her voice is shaky, at best, with fear edging her tone and you can easily tell by the way the Force suddenly swirls around her rather furiously that she’s worried.

        Which might mean you did well to come here for help.

“No, or at least, not yet, I think. I had a vision while I was dreaming so I think she’ll be in danger sometime soon,” you explain as your eyes watch her carefully.

        But so far, it seems like things are going well.

“And this is why I’m here on more personal business,” you tell her. “I want to save Shmi Skywalker from whatever it is that the Force is warning me about, but I can’t tell the Jedi Order what I’m doing. Everything I’m doing is against the Code.”

“Then…” Padmé starts as she slowly gathers a seemingly adequate understanding of the situation, “where do I play in this?”

“I need a safe place for Shmi Skywalker, and because I can’t bring her back to the Temple, I figured that you might have room somewhere here on Naboo to house Shmi,” you explain before looking into her eyes, “I know I’m asking for a lot, but I’m willing to risk trouble with the Order for this. So as long as Anakin can rest somewhat more easily.”

        At first, Padmé is quiet, so very quiet as if she were waiting to reject your pleas. She continues trekking alongside you with her usual royal glamour.

“Does Anakin know about this?” Padmé asks softly without meeting your gaze this time and you shake your head.

“As I said, I’m risking a lot with the Order by doing this. If I’m the only Jedi involved, then I’d be the only one punished,” you confess with an equally soft tone. “No one knows anything about my being here. All they know is that I’m out somewhere trying to understand a Force vision that I didn’t give any details about.”

        There’s a long silence but you try to keep your eyes forward. It’s a huge stretch of words and meanings that probably holds so much more significance in the hands of a Jedi but sounds like a terribly strange thing to say to anyone else. So all you can do is hope that maybe you convinced Padmé that what you want to do will work and that it’s a good investment of her time.

“You’re sacrificing yourself?”

        Her words are strange. At first glance, the words probably wouldn’t mean all too much, and for you that was the initial reaction. But regardless of your reaction, you stop in your tracks and look up to notice that she isn’t next to you anymore. Turning your head, you notice that she’d stopped a few steps behind you, staring at you with a mixture of awe and sadness.

        The accusation still hanging in the air is a great one.

“Not ‘sacrificing,’ exactly. I promised them that I would go back if nothing or something dangerou happens,” is your calm answer. “If I can’t free Shmi Skywalker, then I’ll go back and figure out another way to save her another time."

        Hopefully you won’t be too late by then, though.

        Your correction is seemingly left in the air untouched yet definitely heard as Padmé steps a little closer with an expression of determination.

“Do you think you can do it? Do you think you can save her?”

        At this rate, you’ve probably asked yourself those same questions so many times already that it’s lost a lot of meaning. Looking back towards Padmé, you shake your head with a careful smile playing on your lips.

“I’m willing to try. Trying is better than nothing,” is your answer but Padmé smiles anyway as if she’s satisfied by such a lackluster answer.

“I’m sure your bravery will lead you through,” Padmé states before her own gaze becomes a little heavier. “Do you have a plan to save her?”

        You kind of wish she hadn’t asked that.

“I’m planning to buy her. I’ve got something that looks valuable,” you answer with a nod, “I just need to play the part of someone who Watto would sell to.”

“I don’t know if he’d buy from a Jedi,” notes Padmé as her eyebrows knit together on her forehead. 

        That’s exactly why you didn’t want her to hear about your hastily formed plan, but you suppose working out the kinks now is better than running into those kinks later.

“I’ll need to cover up the fact that I’m a Jedi, but how to do that eludes me,” you say with a sigh. 

        Padmé eyes you, her eyes drifting up and down your form. “Perhaps a change of clothing is in order? I trust that you can act well enough for whatever part you’re planning to take.”

        Huh… 

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know if you’ll have anything that might work in this case for a person to be buying a slave,” you answer while smiling weakly.

        Of course you don’t want to be rude, but what are the chances of a young queen such as Padmé to have clothing befitting some stranger from lawless space? You need to dress like you ignore the law, not like you make them.

“You underestimate me,” Padmé states with a sly smile that truly does not match her appearance, but feels so right.

        With a wave of her hand, she’s already turned around and making her way back to the building regardless of whether you’re following behind, it seems. Even her attendants seem unfazed.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” you call after her, jogging to keep up with her surprisingly quick pace.

“I’ll make sure you look the part to save Anakin’s mother.” Padmé turns around and she smiles brightly, “you can count on me.”

        You take in a sharp inhale and your eyebrows furrow at the sudden change of her demeanor, but you're still glad that Padmé’s being nice and… well, herself. Despite your worries that your plan could go to shit completely, you feel relieved that Padmé’s helping you so wholeheartedly. 

        On another note, finally being able to meet her is a strange but cool thing.

——

—

        Then, as if you were going through a long, long wardrobe montage, what feels like hours pass. But a few different outfit options here, a promise to pat yourself with sand inconspicuously when you arrive there, and even a weird mask to top it off, you’re left with… something.

        Your outfit doesn’t look extremely intimidating, but it does look darker and more thicker than Padmé’s typical white Clone Wars outfit. It’s definitely not fitting for someone like Padmé in the sense that it looked like it might belong to a bounty hunter-kind of person. You almost look like a rich bounty hunter with so much pride in their skills that they had little armour and could risk trapezing about to flaunt about it.

        And with the mask, anything about your face that could be recognized either during the trip or after it is hidden. With your hood tugged over your face, adding to the mysterious quality of your figure already, you feel as though you’re ready.

“What do you think?”

        Padmé looks over you with a triumphant smile. “It’s perfect,” she tells you.

        Good.

        Once the two bundles of your payment for Shmi are secure, you figure that this is it.

“Now that I have my disguise ready, I need to head to Tatooine and get Shmi Skywalker before night hits,” you state while adjusting the robe on your shoulders.

        Glancing over to Padmé and seeing her nod gives you the strength you need to make the next lunge. She gives her attendants a nod and a soft “thank you” when they start cleaning up the mess.

        Without waiting for them to follow along, she walks off to the doorway, converging with two other attendants who had been waiting past the door in the hall. They regard you for a moment, as if making sure you were the padawan who’d followed Padmé into the room earlier, before falling in line behind Padmé silently and respectfully.

        And just like that, you're left walking through the halls again and watching as the world moves on alongside you. 

        It’s time for the next step: getting Shmi and leaving in one piece.

Chapter Text

        You lift your hand up to pull the hood and mask off so that you could reach up to pinch the bridge of your nose. Letting out a soft sigh, you cap off all the worries and nonsensical whirling thoughts swimming within your body and try to remain calm. Dipping your head and placing the mask back on, you can’t help but feel a little off, especially at the prospect of what you’ll need to be doing.

“Is something wrong?” you hear someone ask. 

        Turning your head as your hand pulls the hood back on, Padmé has moved to walking alongside you with her attendants walking behind two of you.

“Just worried, is all,” you answer softly with a smile. 

“I never thought I’d meet a Jedi so open with their worries,” Padmé comments and a laugh trickles past your lips.

        Considering the fact that the two Jedi she must have met recently were Obi Wan and Qui Gon, both of whom would probably eat their boots before openly showcasing emotional weakness, that comment makes tons of sense.

“Have you met a lot of Jedi?” you ask despite knowing the answer already.

“Just two,” she answers before her smile grows, “Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi.”

“Obi Wan’s a Jedi Knight now. He’s in charge of Anakin,” you offer, not at all troubled in providing such an update, and Padmé hums.

“Oh, yes, I think he may have mentioned that during the celebration parade years ago,” Padmé murmurs softly, sounding as though it was half meant for you to hear and half not.

        You nod, not particularly towards Padmé or her words. Just to… fill up the space. You’re not entirely sure why words seem to die at the back of your throats when you look at her, especially not at this very moment, but you do notice her stopping in her tracks. Doing the same, you notice the regal monarch staring at your starfighter still parked and waiting for you.

        This is your stop.

“Wait,” Padmé starts just as you're about to step closer to the ship. You turn to her and she simply stares at your ship. “Are you sure you’ll be able to bring Anakin’s mother back with your ship?”

        You furrow your brows at her question, confused at why she would question your ship's ability to carry passengers. You don’t understand what she means by her words until you turn to see the ship's cockpit, finally remembering how these ships are meant for single pilots only and no one else. There’s just no room for a second person unless that second person was the size of a young child, or something.

        Or if the second person really squeezes into it.

        … 

“I don’t think that’s a problem,” you say, leaping up onto one of the wings. 

        Despite the soft landing you make, something only a Jedi or a very well trained other might be able to do, R15 turns itself on, swivelling it’s head towards you before beeping as if greeting you. The glass roofing slowly begins to open up the cockpit and you lower yourself into a crouch close to peer inside.

        Truly, it shouldn’t be impossible.

        You peer into a certain small yet spacious enough part and squeeze yourself in. It’s a tight fit, but if you really squeeze up, you could fit in the small space to the side. It isn’t perfect and actually feels pretty uncomfortable, but the trip can’t be too bad, especially since the payoff is saving Anakin’s mother. You should be able to manage for that sake.

        You climb out of the small area and seat yourself onto the pilot’s seat. Tugging the hood and the mask off before placing the headset back onto the side of your head, your eyes work to double check that you have everything you need for Tatooine. With a few pats around your body and your mind counting two lightsabers, two bags, and one mask, you figure that you're ready to finally depart and get the show on the road.

        And you really can’t wait for the show to end.

“I’ll be back soon,” you say with a wave to Padmé, who waves back. 

        The glass previously resting behind you lowers over you as the engine begins whirring to life. You can hear R15 beeping through the headset and you let out a sigh while resting your hands on the control sticks. Even if you weren’t ready, the starfighter sure is in a matter of minutes— maybe even seconds.

“Alright R15, let’s grab the hyperspace ring and head to Tatooine.”

        The droid with no reason to say no or inquire your words, affirms your next destination with a flurry of beeps and some windows flashing on and off of the screen. The ship lifts, courtesy of R15’s helpful step-in to help you along before your practiced fingers oh-so familiarly push the sticks forward towards your next destination.

        There’s a silent buzz in your mind as you collect the ring before leaping back into hyperspace travel. The buzz continues for a while after that, drowning out the worries moving in directionless thoughts and fantasies, which are understandable thoughts to have considering that the next part of the plan is arguably to be the hardest or at least the most stressful.

        Getting to Shmi and getting out.

        Thinking back on the many lessons you remember from Mace about reining your worries and bringing forth a calm over, you try to quiet the dissonant thoughts in your head. After all, it wouldn’t do you good to have the Force ripple with your worries unless you want every nearby Jedi to catch a whiff of someone seriously wandering off the records and doing something like purchasing a slave to free them.

        And a Jedi’s mother, to boot.

        You’re way too far into the plan now to screw up anything.

        It’s the thoughts of “this will all be worth it” and “this would make them happy sometime in the future” that help the most. Still, to think of your heart and mind being filled with everything and anything of those two is concerning, but expected. It’s not like you went into all of this blind because you knew you were going to fall. Now here you are, completely fallen and just… gone.

        Well, you aren’t wrong to at least find solace in the fact that you knew it would happen.

        Closing your eyes from the dazzling lights painting the world past the wall of glass, you try to relax your mind despite the poison of the two constantly taking hold of your heart. There isn’t anything about this that’s different than before. You still had them close by, just not as close as you would’ve wanted them to be.

        And that’s enough.

——

—

        You try to not let yourself start worrying again until you’re dropped out of hyperspace, now overlooking Tatooine. You’re left with the ship in space for a moment, just hovering in silence, before you disengage the hyperspace ring and start slowly towards the planet surface. You don’t actually know where you're supposed to go, now that you think about it and you have half a mind to just stop where you are and sit and think.

        You do just that, landing the starfighter and lowering your face into your hands as your head runs a mile a minute. To think that none of your worries about getting Shmi and getting out never once touched on the topic of where to even go.

        …

        You’ve finally hit that dead end you were worried about.

        But then, when you feel a slight tug from something not so physical and your head shoots up from its dejected position, you remember that feeling you had before.

        That the Force isn’t necessarily seeking your failure here.

        You don’t see anything out of the ordinary and nothing pokes out at you demanding for attention. Everything seems normal, that is, normal if you weren’t a Jedi, so you concentrate on this strange tugging sensation, closing your eyes to see into the void of that darkness behind your eyelids. 

        It’s the Force, that's for sure, and it seems to be leading you towards something. You focus harder on that something and it doesn’t take long before you catch what feels like a hint of Anakin’s Force Signature. He’s not here, you know that, but the way the Force guides you to him means that there's merit to at least trying to go down this path that seems so familiarly Anakin.

        And on and on you push, as if you were reaching out to grab the real Anakin from a faraway place. In some way, you are trying to do that and perhaps the Force wanted you to do this from the start. Perhaps Anakin is the one you’re supposed to find answers from.

        Then, it feels as though you tear through something. Something like a barrier, and you find yourself staring at someone who can only be Anakin turning around to stare back at you.

        You know this is Anakin, but is this really him? Or perhaps this is just some Force contrived image of the young man? You’re not too sure. In any case, the image starts to talk. Or tries to because you quickly realise that you can’t actually hear anything.

“I can’t hear you,” you try telling this… image of Anakin as you stroll forward.

        It seems that the image of Anakin can hear you, closing his mouth at your words before frowning. You keep moving closer and closer until you're inches away from bumping his chest.

        Even at this close of a distance, you’re still not sure if your senses are betraying you or something. There’s no telling what the Force can do and what it does do, so it’s not like it’s beyond it’s capabilities to somehow bring you real Anakin.

        You frown too, more due to your thoughts than anything else.

        …

        Image or not, you need answers. All you can hope is that, whether or not this Anakin is real, he won’t go around telling people that he saw you here in this…

        …

        Whatever this place is.

        But you don’t have time to stare and think. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind to get what you need and to get it fast.

“Sorry, but…” you say softly before reaching up with a hand.

        A part of you guides your hand forward, and though you half expected to see your hand go through the image, you find yourself pressing your hand to something that feels like solid cloth. The thought bubbles up, stirring you into confusion, before a flinch rushes through your body like a crashing wave.

        And just like that, you open your eyes, jerking out of the trance and glancing around you. Nothing out of the ordinary with the starfighter, you notice, and you shake your head to clear out whatever that was from your mind. All of it is shoved aside, even your curious thoughts of whether that was a real thing or not because now you knew where to go somehow.

        And no time like the present to continue on. Your hands, already getting the message, take off from the sandy surface to streak through the sky once again as it follows that imaginary line in your head guiding you forward, pulling you towards that direction— and hopefully to a certain town, too.

        Then, fortunately enough for you, a little civilization springs up from the sandy hills in the distance. Alarms in your head blare as if to both warn you and signal your arrival and that’s when you drop the ship down. A or so from town, that is.

“I’ll be back, R15. If anyone tries to break or take the ship, fly off and contact me, alright?” you instruct after you as you slip out of the starfighter cockpit before you hear a series of beeps.

        Without really knowing what the loyal droid said to you, you nod and grab the mask from its place leaning against the side of the ship. Your hands make short work of getting your clothing to look less pristine and more well worn if not just sandy and you suck in a deep breath into your lungs to prep yourself for the next step.

        You let the Force guide you along once you make it into town, stepping through the throng of busybodies. You try to walk confidently, like you know what you’re doing and what you want. It seems to work, because whenever you make anything like eye contact with anyone, they just look away.

        At least you know you look intimidating or at least like someone people wouldn’t want to mess with. Hopefully you're intimidating enough for Watto, too. Maybe you should let some of your anger pour out to help in your acting in that department.

        Or… maybe not. You bet Mace would be able to sense it all the way out here and that was the last thing you needed.

        But then again, maybe just a little will be fine. Not a whole lot, but enough.

Chapter Text

        You turn when the Force seems to call for you to shift direction and you find yourself staring at a certain, somewhat familiar building. You figure it’s Watto’s and start making your way towards it. It’s the sight of high piles of mechanical parts behind the shop caged in behind tall walls that cement the fact that you’re here. Watto’s shop.

        Or at least you think it is.

        Stepping inside feels so surreal. It really feels like you're stepping onto the movie set and you quickly cap off your awe for the sake of maintaining attention on what you’re supposed to be doing. Your feet guide you along until you see something like a front desk. Behind it, looking at a machine part within his hands, is Watto himself. Despite your eyes drilling holes into his figure, he doesn’t look up until you're standing right in front of him.

        How courteous to a possible customer.

“So,” starts the Toydarian as he places the part down onto the counter, “what do you want?”

        And now, how straight to the point he is.

“I want your slave, Shmi Skywalker,” you answer simply, figuring that just getting straight to the point instead of trying to coax him is the better plan of action. 

        As expected, Watto narrows his eyes. “She isn’t for sale.”

        Hm… 

“Would this be enough for the woman?” you attempt, hoping that the material will surely be worth taking back such a strong answer. 

        Your fingers pull away your robe, unhooking the satchel of ores from your hip before you— 

“Is that a lightsaber?”

        You can hear it. The miniscule twinge of worry and you decide that this might be well worth considering. Lifting your eyes to watch him carefully and without missing a beat, you answer with something simple.

“Yes. And?”

“Where did you get it?” Watto asks curiously, and if he were easier to read, you’re sure he might’ve started sweating. 

        You can make this work.

“I killed a Jedi for it,” you answer softly before Watto’s eyes narrow. Before he can see the lie for what it is, you place the bag onto the countertop and wave your hand. “This is what I’m willing to give for the slave woman.”

        Now’s the real test for the ores. If they’re really worth something good, Watto will take the bait and sell Shmi to you like you hope for him to. Nearly everything’s hinging on those rocks being more than just rocks.

        Oh boy… 

        It looks like Watto raises an eyebrow, but without actual eyebrows that you can easily see, you don’t know for certain. All you know is that he seems interested but also a bit unconvinced. His eyes finally drop from yours and he reaches out to open the bag. You’re sure he won’t just try and run with it, so there’s no need to worry about the Toydarian inspecting the goods.

        His hands, moving slowly, work cautiously with the tiny clothed bag until he tugs at the sides enough to expose what’s inside. You watch his face and the Force around him, and when he first sees the contents, you can tell he’s surprised.

“This… this is the ore from the miner's horror! How did you get this?” Watto inquires with awe as he lifts two pieces to inspect in the light.

        Uh… Does that mean they’re good? You try not to let your confusion show. You know that someone like Watto would eat something like that up.

“A temple,” you answer simply before placing your hand back onto the counter. It's not exactly a lie so nothing feels off about such an answer. “So for those eight pieces, I want your slave woman,” you demand lowly. 

        Watto seems unable to answer at first, like he doesn’t really want to say whatever’s on his mind.

        You watch him place down the two shards of ore back into the bag before lifting his hand to his face, rubbing his chin as he hums in thought. It doesn’t look like he’s coming to the decision that you want as quickly as you need him to in order to avoid him regretting his sale.

        You need him to run after you and the ores, meaning you have to make it seem like there’s a chance that he might never see them again.

        So you take the bag back into your hand and wave it in front of him.

“It doesn’t look like you want to give her up. Fine by me. I’ll go get a slave woman from someone else,” you say before turning with an almost innocent smile spreading over your cheeks.

        Judging by the way he looks at you, this sort of expression isn’t something one can find in abundance here.

 “Maybe I'll offer whoever’s next just six of these for the next slave woman I find,” you promise lowly.

“No, no, hold on,” Watto quickly buzzes after you, nearly lifting himself over the counter. “I’m just… I’m just surprised that you’re offering eight for just one slave!”

        He’s taking the bait. You’re about to turn away completely, noting the way the Force around him swirls violently. You can tell he wants to take the deal. You know he won’t let this slide out of his hands. All you have to do is play him a bit more and he’ll fall right into your hands.

        Hopefully. 

“I’m not joking when I say I want the woman,” you say cooly. “But I can tell you’re not willing to take these eight from my hands, so I best get going and search elsewhere. Goodbye.”

“Wait!”

        And there it is. You have to stop yourself from smiling too satisfyingly as you turn around to meet the Toydarian’s gaze. Crossing your arms over your chest, you just stare back at the Toydarian, wondering if he’ll repeat what he said. Not because you didn’t hear, no, just because you want to know for sure that he’s actually going to do it.

“I’ll sell her to you for those eight ores,” Watto offers with a hopeful yet defeated glint in his eyes.

“Perfect, we have a deal,” you say with a smile that certainly reaches your eyes, stepping closer before you place your hands on the counter again with the bag sitting between the two of you.

        There is one tiny detail that comes to mind. One that you learned from your time here on a mission with Mace. Perhaps it was the Force whispering help into the shadows of your mind.

“She has a slave chip in her,” you say before Watto grunts with a shake of his head.

“No can do about the chip,” he says.

        You can tell that his helplessness is a lie and a front. At the very least, you’re glad to know that you were right to assume that Shmi might be one of the few slaves with a chip inserted into their bodies.

“Wrong answer,” is all you say before Watto raises his arms up in defence.

“I didn’t put the chip in her!” he shouts back angrily.

        Understandable, but not helpful. You know you can get something better out of him. The pressure worked before and you wonder just how much a pushover Watto can be.

“I hope you understand that I don’t make purchases only for my end to be blown up,” you begin carefully. “I suggest you stop wasting my time and tell me what I want to know before my patience begins to thin.”

        The threat rolls off your tongue quite easily, despite years of training to stay calm and collected against adversity and Watto flinches before nodding vigorously. 

“Y-yes, yes, then… I have a transmitter,” he finally confesses and you nod at his words when some sensation seems to lift just a bit, but not completely, as if the Force is also happy with this turn of events.

“Dismantle it right now,” you instruct, making the words seem so simple.

        He looks a bit troubled by it, but he nods and flutters a little lower in the air and reaches down under his counter. Sensing no danger, you wait patiently and silently pat yourself on the back in the meanwhile for such a performance.

        You’re getting closer.

        When he rises back up, in his hands is a device shaped like a match box. It’s got a few buttons on it and a screen that makes it seem like it’s got some power in it, but that’s really all. The Force swirling seems to watch on carefully just as you do behind the mask of yours, and he plucks a few tools from the side.

        He shifts over the device and it’s like both you and the Force hold your breaths.

        Watto begins whatever it is that he needs to do to dismantle the thing. His hands, rather deftly, twirls what looks like a screwdriver while the other hand presses buttons in a sequence that seems almost random. Before long, he leans back, grumbles with satisfaction, and gathers up the tools he had laid out during his requested task of taking the machine apart.

        When he lifts it to you, you can see that the screen that had been lit up dimly earlier is now dark. The feeling of dread the Force lifts.

“It’s done,” he says and you can tell that he means it.

“Alright, let’s go,” you declare, swiping the device along with the bag of ore. “I’ll pay you once I see her.”

        And it seems such a request isn’t anything outlandish because he nods without fussing. He moves around the corner and before you, guiding you along as you inwardly thank the Force for being such a teamplayer.

        Had it not been a feeling that the ores were actually worth something after all, you would never have brought it. Had you not known that simply earning the Toydarian’s word would be enough, Shmi might’ve ended up dying and taking you along with her all because of an accursed slave chip. Had it not been for the Force, you wouldn’t know if the chip was properly dealt with either.

        You seriously are so thankful for the help… 

        The walk is silent, just like you hoped it to be— since you didn’t really want to talk to him anyway— and it only feels just a little uncomfortable. It still is loads better than actually talking to him. In your mind, you’re letting off firecrackers and confetti bombs and fireworks for a job well done so far.

“Here.”

        And “here” you certainly are. You can only assume that this is Shmi’s home because all you can see is a door that looks like all the other doors. Stopping yourself from eyeing Watto and ruining his cooperative attitude, you step ahead of him, knocking on the door.

        It only takes a few moments before the door opens to reveal the very same woman you’d been hoping to see for a very long time.

“Oh,” is all Shmi can get out before you cut in.

“I bought you from Watto,” you state simply and the woman’s face darkens just a bit.

“I… I see. Well, please come in,” Shmi says in a surprisingly calm tone before moving to the side.

        You’re about to do just that before you hear someone clearing their throat. Watto, you’re sure, and you turn to see him staring at the bag expectantly. Well, it would make sense that he’d want to be paid now that he’s brought you here and given up Shmi. you doubt he wants to stick around.

"We’ll be leaving in the next hour or so,” you tell him, holding out the bag for his hands to take.

“Yeah, yeah,” is all Watto says before he turns and leaves the area.

        He flutters off and you watch him carefully. A few moments pass before you touch the button next to the door, watching as the metal door slides close to shut you off from the rest of the world.

        And so, the curtains draw close on yet another portion of your seemingly endless plan.

Chapter Text

        Finally feeling safe with speaking the truth now, you turn to Shmi and tug your hood down while pulling off the mask to finally expose your face. Setting it down on the table, you look up to meet Shmi’s watchful gaze. She looks as though she doesn’t know what to make of you, not that you can blame her.

“I’m… I’m a Jedi, my name’s [y/n] [l/n],” you greet, bowing a bit sheepishly while struggling to find a decent way to introduce yourself. “I’m a friend of Anakin’s and I came here to free you from slavery since Anakin can’t.”

        The surprise that slowly melts onto her face makes you grimace. 

“Oh my,” Shmi whispers before a hand moves towards her mouth.

        She’s obviously overwhelmed by your words and you realise that you said too much too quickly. It might’ve been best if the explanation came a little slower or in chunks, but… 

“Sorry for being so sudden,” you apologize softly before reaching out your hands. “Here.”

        She takes them gingerly and you lead her to the table, motioning to the many seats for her to take so that she doesn’t accidentally collapse and give you more things to worry about.

“You know Anakin? My son?” Shmi asks with a voice full of hope and you nod. 

        Luckily you’d guided her to a chair, because if you didn’t, she probably would’ve fallen considering the amount of deflating and slouching the woman is showing. 

“How… how is he? Is he doing well?”

“He’s doing great, you don’t have to worry,” you quickly assure her and she heaves a sigh. 

        You can tell that she’s happy and you would like for her to remain happy for a little while longer, only you can’t. As much as you would like to stay and talk to her, you're still working under a time constraint.

“Does he know?” Her voice catches you off guard and you’re left to just stare in response with confusion instead of answering for a moment. “Does he know you’re here? Doing this?”

“Oh, no, he doesn’t know,” you answer towards her inquisitive gaze. “Actually, no one knows. I’m acting out of line and breaking the Jedi Code for being here.”

        Shmi’s face falls drastically in a heartbeat. “Will you be punished for coming to free me?” Shmi’s voice sounds sincerely worried and you laugh lightly to try and dispel the mood.

“Not if I don’t let them know what I’ve been doing for the past few days or so,” you answer before waving dismissively. “Anyway, we have to get your things in order. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

        At your words, Shmi nods with a determined look on her face. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to want to know exactly why you need to leave in a hurry and you can only assume that she probably understands some reason why without you even saying anything. You watch as she glances about for a few moments before she gives a soft sigh.

“It’s hard to believe that I’ll be leaving,” Shmi whispers and you frown.

“I should have some room on the ship,” you say, very much hoping that you’re right about that. “You can bring what you wish to bring with you. You’re not coming back anytime soon.”

“No, I think that will be alright. Knowing Watto, it won’t be long before he gets another slave. Whatever I leave will help them get through their own life,” Shmi explains with a gentle tone, "I hope.”

        Her kindness and soft spoken speech catches you off guard, but you quickly recover to continue making sure that she’s ready to go as soon as possible. “Do you want to bring anything at all with you?”

        She pauses there.

“A few things, yes, and a droid.”

“Sure, of course. Whatever you’d like to bring, we’ll bring,” you assure before witnessing yet another one of her smiles. She bows her head to you before rushing off, leaving you no time to tell her that you needed no thanks for this.

        And now, your eyes wander the room in your lonesome. Assuming that you’ll be fine with the whole space maneuvering issue inside the cockpit of your ship, your eyes eventually land on the transmitter on the table. Reaching out for the device, you take it into your hand and then push it past your robe, slipping it into your pocket. You don’t know for sure if it’s off, but you can always have Padmé find someone to look into it and to make sure Shmi has her surgical operation to relieve her body of the last thing connecting her to slavery.

        With everything seemingly falling into place, you let yourself fall into the chair beside you. With nothing else to do, you close your eyes and try to empty your mind for a much needed break.

        The moment you hear movement to the side, you open your eyes and look up. Jumping in your seat a fair bit, you find yourself staring at a rather tall droid devoid of any metal covering but full of a certain familiarity. You blink and open your mouth, but nothing comes out, so you close it.

        The droid bows and then straightens itself back up instead, foregoing the fact that you hadn’t been able to greet it yourself and apparently not minding all that much.

“Hello, I am C3P0, human-cyborg relations. I am fluent in over six million forms of communication,” greets the droid and you blink.

        Ah. You’d almost forgotten about him in the midst of everything else.

“Hello, I’m [y/n] [l/n]. A Jedi padawan and friends with Anakin Skywalker. I freed Shmi Skywalker from slavery,” you state as your own greeting to the droid and he gasps.

“Freed Mistress Shmi? My word, this is incredible news!” cheers Threepio with strangely contained excitement. “And you say you are a Jedi? It is an honour to meet you. I’ve met another who was also a Jedi in the past.”

        Seeing as Obi Wan was a padawan when they met, he must mean one person in particular.

“It’s great to meet you too, and yes, I know who you’re talking about. Master Jinn, right?” A smile spreads over your lips at the memory that isn’t exactly yours, but is at the same time.

“Yes, yes, I recall the older man that had come before,” Threepio says with a nod, “and you are here on a mission as well?” 

        You nod, though it shows a hint of your uncertainty. “You could say that.” You grimace again, but this time at the idea of your rogue mission and shake your head.

“And I can assume that your mission was to free Mistress Shmi, correct?” 

        Left with little else to really say, you just nod at Threepio’s words and he hums, eyes never leaving yours as that metal brain of his figures out what to say next. 

“Will I be coming as well?”

“Yes, of course, of course,” you reassure quickly and Threepio seems to bounce back with energy. 

“Oh, splendid news!” Threepio cheers and you find yourself laughing softly at his energy.

        Your eyes wander to glance over to where Shmi disappeared off to and you look back to Threepio, who seems to be rambling about something you didn’t even notice him begin the conversation of. The thought of Shmi needing some help packing strikes your mind, and with Threepio out here speaking to you instead of possibly helping Shmi, you can’t help but smile with both defeat and amusement.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you, but do you want to help Shmi Skywalker pack?” you wonder hopefully. “We’re going to leave as soon as she’s done.” 

“Of course, Jedi Master [l/n]. I will make sure Mistress Shmi is well prepared for the journey,” Threepio assures before waddling off, leaving you no time to tell him you’re not a Jedi Master whatsoever. 

        Oh well.

        Still, you smile as you watch him leave before turning your eyes back to the table. Closing your eyes again, you let yourself fall back into the lull of the Force and peace.

        You don’t know how many minutes or hours pass before you notice a shift in the air, and when you open your eyes, you look up to see Shmi with Threepio standing behind her. In her arms is one moderately sized cloth bag and you look from the bag to the woman and then back to the bag in the silence that she creates.

“Are you sure that’s all?” you ask with concern before Shmi smiles.

“Yes, this is enough. Thank you,” Shmi assures before you nod and stand up from the chair. 

        You take the mask from the tabletop and slip it over your face before tugging the hood over the edges. Sending the two a nod, you turn to the door and make your way out first.

        And then, you’re back on the same route you took to get into the little city and Watto, but this time technically backwards for your way back. With only a few moments where you had to slow down for Threepio to catch up, you all make it there much sooner than you expected and without being bothered by anyone. It seems as though your luck is still going strong.

        Suddenly R15 whirls into life, beeping loudly at you.

“R15! It’s just me! We’ll be leaving soon, alright? We’re going to go back to Naboo before home,” you say to the astromech. It beeps as a few times before the glass opens up for you, allowing you to start getting everyone inside.

        And what a fun activity that will be… 

“Will we fit?” Shmi asks and a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips.

“We should, but Threepio might need to squeeze into the sides like me.” You turn to the said droid and nod your head to him. “Do you want to just turn off for the ride? It’ll make the trip a little easier for us, I think.”

“Well, if that is what you suggest, perhaps it will be for the best.” Threepio nods after his solemn words and you look from him to the ship.

“I’ll get you into the ship first,” you state before lifting your hands towards Threepio.

        This much should be a cinch for you as it takes little time to begin concentrating on the Force swirling around you. Threepio starts to hover after a few heartbeats, exclaiming in surprise, and you drag your hand over to the ship. Without the sight of anything but the empty air, Threepio is lifted and then lowered slowly into the side.

“You were not wrong! This is quite a tight fit!” exclaims Threepio’s loud voice from the cockpit, causing your lips to spread in amusement.

        You jump onto one of the wings and begin to work him into a position that will make it fine for him and yourself later. He remains chatty all the while, and only when you’re about to switch him off does he seem to take on a more serious air.

“I leave Mistress Shmi and myself in your care, Jedi Master [l/n].”

        Again, before you can correct him, he powers himself off. Leaving you less work, truly, but you can’t wait until you can correct him about the whole “Jedi Master” business.

        Next is Shmi, who’s also floated onto the comfortable seat with her bag in her lap. As you slip into your apparent spot for the ride, you watch the glass lower over Shmi’s worried expressions directed to the control panel.

“Don’t worry, R15 will be driving so you don’t have to worry about the controls,” you pipe up from behind her and she offers you a grateful glance.

        Not that you were expecting for her to drive, anyway, so it’s easy to nod in return.

        With that, all that’s left to do is to shed your mask and replace it with the headset so you can speak to R15 easily.

“Are you sure you’re alright back there?” Shmi inquires and you nod from your spot lower than her seat.

“Of course,” you answer, “it’s not too uncomfortable here.”

        Shmi frowns like she doesn’t like that answer, but when all you do is toss a few preliminary instructions to R15 pretty regularly as if the space didn’t trouble you whatsoever, she seems to at least approve of it enough to stop talking about it. You can see the way she settles into the seat and you glance up at the little bit of R15 that’s visible to you from your seat.

“Alright, R15, let’s…”

        That’s when your words trail off. You feel a weird tingle, like something is calling to you. Your eyes glance around, finding that this sensation seems to be… guiding you and you shake your head.

        It looks like it’s not yet time for Naboo.

“R15, I need you to head right and past the town. I think we need to head to another destination first.”

        R15 lets out multiple chirps again, and without another beep, the ship lifts off the ground, retracting the landing gear before soaring up into the air high enough to avoid crashing into the town you’d just left.

        The tugging feels heavy and important, and that feeling alone makes it easy to focus on. It gives you something to think and wonder about during the silent trip. Again, you don’t know how much time passes, but by the time you feel the weird sensation tingle again, you look up to the astromech.

“R15, land here. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

        R15 beeps affirmatively, landing the ship before the glass roof pulls away. Finally, you’re able to squeeze out from the side with a hand slipping the headset off from. When you let your eyes wander over the landscape before you, you notice a moisture farm, you’re pretty sure, and your mind seems to instantly realise where you are.

        Cliegg Lars.

Chapter Text

“I’ll be back,” you say before leaping up and over the side of the ship. “Remember, R15, if anything happens, fly off. The passengers you’ve got are vulnerable out here without me around.” 

        Shmi doesn’t say anything at the prospect of you leaving, only watching curiously, and once R15 beeps it’s response, regardless of what it meant, you start making your way towards the buildings. 

        You didn’t bother bringing your mask, but you did give the inside of your pocket a feel to check and see what exactly was in there that felt a bit off suddenly, only to remember that you still had the small batch of extra crystals. They were for the possibility of Watto asking for more, but since he readily accepted those eight pieces before, what were you supposed to do with them? Give it to Lars? 

        … 

        You did steal the guy’s future wife.

        It doesn’t take too long to get to what you think is their door since R15 didn’t park too far, thankfully. You reach up to the big button on the side of their door and press it, hearing a dull noise resound the lower area like a doorbell. Minutes past and the door slides open, revealing an older man you kind of recognize.

“Hello?” he greets with confusion. 

        In response to that, you reach into your pocket and pull out the bundle. Noting his vague caution, you also do see that he’s not trying to attack you for being suspicious either.

“It’s ore from a miner’s horror,” you explain before his eyes widen like Watto’s did, meaning he must know of what they are. “There’s four in there. You should use them however you want.”

“But, why?” asks the man before his eyebrows furrow even further, “and who are you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I just thought that you’d benefit from them more than I would. I’ll be heading off now. Sorry to bother you.”

        You step away, bowing down slightly, before turning around to begin your walk back to the ship.

“W-wait! Hey!”

        You look back to see the man relax his shoulders.

“Thank you for this, whoever you are. There aren’t a lot of good people around these parts,” notes the man with a bit of a shaky smile.

        And to that, you smile as well.

“Have a good day,” you bid in farewell, waving your arm before turning around and heading for the ship.

        When you arrive, it isn’t nearly as hard to squeeze into the side and place on the headset again while R15 starts the takeoff process once again. Glancing up to Shmi, seeing her staring towards the faraway horizon before her, you begin to feel glad that she didn’t ask about Cliegg— if that was even Cliegg as you don’t actually know for sure— and is focused on something else. A sigh trickles out into the air before you and you and glance up to R15.

“Okay R15, time to head back to Naboo.”

        The ship lurches forward, sending you sliding a bit on the smooth surface. To make up for the loss of comfort from giving up your seat, you try reclining back and watching as the sky turns darker and darker while a smile passes over your lips.

        Mission accomplished.

        … 

        Mostly, at least, you still need to head back to Naboo and drop off Shmi, but it’s pretty much accomplished and all is beginning to look well.

——

—

        The moment the roof moves away, revealing a blue sky rather than the void of space, you spring out and let out a groan. Standing perched atop one of the wings, you stretch out your arms and your legs, struggling to regain the freedom of movement after having lost it for quite some time.

“Are you alright?” asks a voice and you turn to see Shmi climbing out of the cockpit with some difficulty. You quickly switch gears to helping her out of the thing that must be so foriegn for her.

“Just sore and still too used to having no room,” you answer while guiding her along. “But alright.”

“I am still very sorry that you had to sit like that,” Shmi begins with a deep frown when her feet finally touch solid ground. “I wish I were a bit smaller. Perhaps if I were, you wouldn’t have needed to sit on the ground like that.”

“No, no. Really, it’s fine,” you assure with a chuckle, looking away from her to retrieve the droid from the cockpit as well.

        It’s not too strenuous, really, you’re just feeling tired from all the events that transpired. Mentally tired, you suppose, would be the right words for the situation, but still you manage to get Threepio out in one piece.

        Now with the exposed droid’s body just sitting up on the ground of the landing area, you look up to Shmi and ask, “do you know how to turn him on?”

“Oh, yes, there’s a button right here,” Shmi answers before crouching down and pressing a small button behind a small panel on the nape of his neck.

        Within a few seconds, Threepio’s eye-things light up and garbled sounds leave his mouth as he slowly recovers his speech and movement. 

“Have we arrived at our destination?” Threepio asks while looking around.

“Yes, we—” You grunt as you lift him off the ground, finally righting his body on his feet before sighing— “Yes, we’re here. The place where you’ll be staying from now on, Naboo.”

“Oh my, Naboo is wonderful!” Threepio chirps and you laugh. 

        Once you retrieve the mask and return the headset, you say your momentary goodbyes to the astromech and look away from the ship to see a man and one of Padmé’s attendants walking towards you. 

        It appears that Padmé was waiting for you this entire time, supposedly believing that you would indeed show with an older woman and not empty handed. You’re thankful that the Queen had such faith in you, but you do wish that maybe she didn’t have so much faith because it could have gone wrong.

        So, very wrong.

        The fact that your plan even worked is a surprise, but quite a welcome one, especially since there were so many risks that you needed to take.

        Eventually you make it back to the room you knew as the throne room. To Padmé and her court, you assume that that’s not what they call it— or maybe it is— but it did have a throne-like chair in the centre. With Padmé’s nearly soul piercing eyes on you once again, you offer a small bow.

“I’m back with Shmi Skywalker,” you state with pride in your voice even though it must be clear to Padmé that you’ve indeed brought back Shmi.

“I’ll have lodgings for you set up immediately,” Padmé says to the older woman with you before smiling pleasantly. “I was thinking of having you live with my family in their home.”

“Oh no, that’s alright. I don’t want to intrude,” Shmi assures quickly, frantically trying to avoid being a nuisance within her first hours of being a freed woman.

“You won’t be intruding at all, Miss Skywalker. I’ve already spoken to them and they would love to open their home to you,” Padmé says before she stands up from her chair. 

        You glance at Shmi to see her smile almost painfully, relaxing her shoulders and the fingers wrapped around the cloth of her bag. The room is silent for a single heartbeat before Padmé nods to the attendants at the door. You hear one make her way to you in the centre.

“My attendant will take you to the residence,” Padmé explains to Shmi before her eyes shift over to you, “and you will need your clothes. I assume you’ll be leaving as soon as possible?”

“Yes, I can’t let the Jedi Order catch onto what I've been doing,” you answer with a shake of your head.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, would you like one of our technicians to wipe the navicomputer and your astromechs memory of your trips?” Padmé questions curiously and you think about the offer.

        You never really thought about all of that and now you’re just really glad that Padmé was thinking on her own time on how to help you out.

“Yes, that would be great,” you answer before you pause, realising something about your situation that could be used for your benefit. “Actually, you can keep the first trip to Naboo. I’ll need a cover story for why I’m out for so long.”

        The smile that you send towards Padmé is downright mischievous. “Would it be possible for you to be my cover story?”

“Of course,” Padmé answers without hesitation.

        Good.

“I can tell the Order that I came here, chatted with you for a little while, and then left to head back to Coruscant,” you declare and Padmé smiles with another nod.

“I’ll be sure to remember the plan if the Order contacts me.”

        Though, you sure hope they won’t do that.

“I’ll accompany you to the room I’ve left your clothes in,” Padmé offers before stepping up to you. 

        Without even waiting for your reassurance that she wouldn’t need to spend her time doing something like that, she turns her attention to Shmi and bows her head slightly before asking, “would you like to join us before you leave? I’m sure you must have some questions for Padawan [l/n].”

“Oh, you can just call me [y/n],” you offer quickly with a grin, “we’re already partners in crime.”

        Padmé’s smile nearly grows sly at such a comment. “I suppose you’re right. Well, Miss Skywalker?”

“Just Shmi is fine for me as well,” Shmi states before she smiles as well. “And yes, I would love to join you.”

        Padmé nods and you file out of the throne room with the others. It’s in the silent trek that you glance over to Shmi to find her hands slightly pale. Or, paler than they should be. You assume it’s from carrying her bag, so without another word, you reach out and take the bag from her hands.

“I’ll handle this for you,” you offer before Shmi frowns.

“No, you don’t have to,” Shmi rebukes, “you’ve already done so much for me.”

        And she even sounds weary.

“If I had a limit to the good things I do for people, then I don’t think I’d last long as a Jedi,” you quip back with a teasing tone that’s enough for Shmi to be shocked into a stupor.

“You’re very unlike the typical Jedi, aren’t you?” Padmé comments goodnaturedly and you smile.

“Oh, definitely. Master Windu always says that I’m quite unconventional for a Jedi.”

“I think you’re an incredible Jedi,” Shmi assures. 

“Quite so!” chips in Threepio, “a fine Jedi indeed! After such a mission as saving Mistress Skywalker from slavery, I do say you are so much more than just a Jedi.” 

“Thank you, thank you,” is all you can answer back. The sudden downpour of compliments is as nice as it is embarrassing.

        Whatever merriment and conversation that had been fluttering about seems to melt away, and when Shmi speaks again, it truly flickers out.

“You won’t be telling Anakin about this, will you?”

Chapter Text

        Luckily, you’ve already arrived in the closed room with your clothes still sitting where you left them, but with a question like that, you figure that there are a great deal other things to talk about first.

        The voice doesn’t sound scared or worried at all. Rather, the tone seems calm and curious. The “will you?” within the sentence isn’t assuming or anything. Instead, she sounds like she’s only making sure, voicing one of the many questions no doubt swimming around within her mind.

        You turn your head to Shmi once the question has floated over the group for long enough before you shake your head.

“If I tell him, he might try to come here. I can’t have him violating the Code with his do-before-thinking mindset,” you answer simply. “That’s why I came alone. I wouldn’t tell anyone about today and I can trust myself with this secret.”

“Will you ever tell him?” Padmé asks from your other side.

“Maybe,” you confess. “Depends.”

“On?” is Shmi’s attempt to get you to continue.

“If it ever feels like the right time to.” You frown before shaking your head. “Hopefully, one day the Force would just guide him to you, just like it did for me. Preferably, he should come to see you instead of me bringing him to you.”

“So you won’t be telling him?” Judging by the face Shmi is making, this is the last and final time she’ll be asking for a clarification of this one fact. It’s as if, after you tell her the answer, she’ll be resolved to accept it.

“I don’t think I’m the right person to tell him,” is your answer. 

        This is especially so when your eyes catch a glimpse of Padmé. With her here, she can be the one to tell Anakin one day.

“Despite the fact that you were the one to save me?” Shmi rebukes and you glance up at the older woman. She seems convinced that you should be the one to tell Anakin rather than someone else and your eyes flicker away as a guilty feeling spreads over your heart.

        It’s not that you don’t want to be the person to give him the good news and see him smile because of your actions. It’s just that maybe there’s someone else out there— namely next to you— who would benefit more from something like that.

        There’s just someone else who’s more suited for that sort of truth.

        You’re silent, no longer wishing to speak about the thoughts that rush through your mind, but you do look up when you see someone approach you. Shmi, namely, who stops before you.

“I’m happy my son found someone as trustworthy and kind as you. I had been worried, you see, of the people that Anakin would surround himself with,” Shmi tells you. “Now that I’ve met you, I no longer have to be worried.”

        The words that Shmi said so easily really strikes a chord within you, creating a strange wave of warmth that washes over your body like a refreshing reminder. Even if you didn’t want to, you find yourself smiling at the feelings that surface.

“Of course,” you say, lowering your head. “It is my pleasure.”

“No,” Shmi whispers as your eyes lift to hers again, “thank you.”

        And with the pleasant air lingering around you, you feel a bit safer. The plan is complete, Padmé will help you with any tying of loose ends, and Shmi is safe and alive.

        All is well, truly.

“One of my attendants will stay with you so they can take you back to your ship. In the meantime, I will be helping Shmi,” Padmé explains and you nod, letting Shmi reach for her bag within your arms.

“Thank you again for everything,” Shmi says softly just before the bag leaves your arms.

“It’s no problem, really,” you answer back quickly, not wanting to accept too much of her thanks for a situation like this.

        You watch as Shmi starts to turn around for the door before she freezes halfway as if something has just caught her attention. She turns around and you regard her curiously, scanning her sudden movements for some sort of answer.

“How much did you pay for me?”

        You’re surprised at her question, furrowing your eyebrows and deflating your previously happy shoulders. Lifting a hand to the back of your head, unable to answer at first, an uncomfortable and heavy silence fills the room.

        But you know the woman wants an answer.

“Eight pieces of ore from a miner’s horror. About the size of two fingers each piece,” is your answer. “If you happen to know what those are.”

        And judging by the expressions of everyone in the room with you, you can tell that they don’t. Not that you can blame them. You still don’t really know what it is.

“I’m afraid I don’t know how much ‘ores from a miner’s horror’ are worth,” Padmé states before her face scrunches up a bit, “Actually, I don’t know what miner’s horror even is.”

“Don’t worry, neither do I," is your reassurance to her confusion.

        A shrug passes over your shoulders before you place the mask down onto a nearby table. An attendant picks it up and you thank her under your breath, watching as she nods once before walking off with the accessory. Probably to have it cleaned before returning it. After all, it’s a bit dusty from some sand and such that thankfully didn’t tumble into your eyes after all this time.

“But apparently it was worth a lot,” you continue casually. “Watto looked as if he couldn't believe his eyes when I offered eight pieces for you.”

“Surprising Watto like that…” begins Shmi with a concerned expression. “Something like that would take a lot, wouldn’t it?”

        It sure would, considering his greedy nature. Still, you shake your head before offering the two women a reassuring smile as you slip your outer robe off.

“To me, Anakin’s happiness is worth more than a few pieces of metal— or, ore— so it was not an issue for me,” you assure before leaning the robe onto a nearby chair that holds your discarded clothes from earlier folded neatly into a pile. 

        You unhook your lightsabers and reach into your pockets, pulling out Shmi’s transmitter, which you should hand over to Padmé and… a dark grey shard?

        Confused, you lift the metal up and frown, inspecting the familiar object held between your two fingers. Last thing that was in this pocket was the bundle that held the four ores you were going to give Cliegg. And you did. You gave the bundle away, so, why did you have this?

        You didn’t happen to only give Lars three… right?

“Is that the ore you were talking about?” asks Padmé’s voice and your attention is stolen along with an affirmative nod.

“It should have been in a bundle,” you explain, “that was supposed to go to someone.”

“Was it given to the place where we went before we came here?” Shmi questions. 

“The Force led me there. I didn’t need it so I gave it to another man who seemed like he could put it to better use,” is your casual answer.

        You notice Padmé take a step forward, followed by Shmi closely behind. Padmé closes the distance between you first and reaches out with slow and steady hands, wrapping her fingers around the ore, and you relinquish the small object to her gasp. 

        Suddenly, you remember the device in your hand and lift it up into view as well. Staring at it for a few seconds, you finally hold it out to Padmé, who takes it out of your outstretched hand with a puzzled expression.

“Shmi needs surgery to get a chip that’s connected to this out of her. You’ll probably need to check to make sure the transmitter has been correctly and truly deactivated,” you advise to the queen who’s luckily more interested in your words about the device than the ore. 

        But that leaves Shmi to take the ore from Padmé’s hand, inspecting it curiously as she flips it around and around in her hand.

“Where did you get this?” Shmi asks, her eyes leaving the ore and meeting with your own eyes.

“It was from the place where the Jedi Order found me.”

        You glance over at the two to see them staring.

“What?” comes your confusion with eyes looking back and forth between the two.

“You’ve given a lot up for this,” answers Padmé. Her expression is enough to tell you she’s feeling crestfallen and maybe even a little guilty.

        The same topic has been brought up before so all you do is shake your head. “Like I said, it’s for Anakin.”

        You can tell Shmi wants to say something to that, but one glance to her direction specifically seems to silence her thoughts, whatever they had been.

        Which is fine, you suppose.

        Her hand reaches towards you, returning the ore to you. One look from her to the ore is enough for you to shake your head and wave your hand dismissively.

“You can keep it. I have three back at home,” you assure but all you receive is Shmi’s frown deepening.

“I can’t keep this. You’ve already used so much for my sake.” 

        Her hand inches closer to you and you furrow your brows. You don’t exactly want to keep it as it was meant for someone else, but Shmi won’t take it because she feels bad about you having given up so much for her already.

        What a situation to be in… Maybe this is the storm that was fated to come after such a calm mission.

        A sigh passes your lips and your hands take the ore back, weighing it in your palm. You raise an eyebrow at the piece and take it within both hands before resting your thumbs on the underside of the bar-shaped piece. With a considerable but expected amount of strength, the piece snaps in half pretty cleanly. The metal was actually quite easy to break, as if it were made of something with the strength of gold but stronger, or something. 

        In any case, you hold out the pieces towards the two women.

“If it’s really as valuable as Watto says it is, you two deserve it, or at least parts of it. Besides, I’m a Jedi. I’m not supposed to have attachments.”

        If your words before weren’t enough to convince the two, the words you say about the Jedi forbidding attachments seem to be enough to change their minds, at least enough for them to reach out. They look unsure with the result of their insistence for you to keep the darn thing, only to get it split into halves and then offered back. You guess you must’ve caught them in their surprise because they accept it back without refusal when you press them into their palms.

“Partners in crime, everyone,” is what you say when their hands accept the gift as if you were passing around drinks of celebration.

        And that comment, at the very least, is enough to bring smiles to their faces. 

        At last, things seem to be alright.

“Perhaps it’s time to leave you to your clothing,” Padmé’s voice rings out, also noticing that this would be a good place to end things. “You still need to return to the Temple before anyone questions how long you’ve been gone and what you’ve been doing.”

“But it was worth it.” Your body folds into a polite bow, one that you’ve practiced quite often since coming to the Jedi Temple. “I hope we’ll get to meet again soon in the future.”

“I hope so too,” Shmi says and those seem to be her last words to you.

        Only, she doesn’t leave yet. Instead, she moves forward just as confusion seizes your body. Her actions pass so slowly in your eyes that you don’t know what she’s doing until she’s got her arms around you and over your shoulders, pulling you into a tight embrace. It’s a nice hug actually, one very befitting of a mom hug, but this has come on so suddenly that it feels kind of awkward.

        Unable to form a response other than just hugging her back, you manage to react quickly enough to return the favour. That should be fine, right?

        She pulls away, wearing a tender smile on her face before Padmé steps up like someone waiting in line for something. She bows instead of reaching for a hug and you're thankful that she picked such an easy way to bid farewell. Your body leans forward for another bow, this time in farewell, and a pleasant air drifts over you three.

“Hopefully our paths will allow us to meet again,” Padmé states like she’s promising something for the future.

“I’ll look forward to it,” you agree happily and the two walk towards the door. 

        Once they do move, you catch a glimpse of Threepio standing quietly at the doorway.

 “I hope I’ll see you again too, Threepio,” you make sure to say to the droid. “You’ve been quite helpful.”

        Not really, honestly, but he did help Shmi pack, or at least you assume he did, and it does feel a bit off to not say farewells to the droid.

“Have I?” Threepio asks with awe. “Well, that is only because someone as reliable as you have been the one to lead me.”

        A smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you nod to the droid. “Until next time, Threepio.”

“Yes, I look forward to the next time we can meet again, Master Jedi [y/n].”

        This time, you make it to the point of opening your mouth before the three exit after one last bow. Two attendants follow behind them, and the one that stays with you walks to the door, bows, and then steps out. 

        Well, you’re just going to have to correct Threepio another time. You’re sure you’ll be able to see the droid again, so it should be fine.

        Now alone, you begin undressing the clothes Padmé lent to you, inwardly apologizing for having tracked so much sand all over the place. Within minutes of quick dressing, you're finally ready to leave the planet and head back to the Temple. 

        Making your way back to your ship feels like a blur and the emotions that come with successfully saving one Anakin’s most treasured people makes you feel giddy. It was a clean sweep of a victory, allowing you to sigh and close your eyes. Relaxing equals meditating, you repeat to yourself, and so you try to do just that seeing as you probably deserve it. Though, you do consider the idea of sleeping at this point of time rather than meditating.

        …

“R15, could you wake me up five minutes before leaving hyperspace, please?”

        Affirmative chirping responds and the system screen relays to you that yes, the droid will do just that. With that settled for you, you shift into a more comfortable position and close your eyes, letting out some of the residual stress in the form of yet another content sigh.

        It’s been such a lucky few hours that no words within your vocabulary could accurately describe them. Well, “miraculous” might end up fitting the bill pretty well.

Chapter Text

        It’s the loud yet familiar beeping that rattles you out of your sleep that reminds you that you’re in a ship and quickly approaching Coruscant. You’re quick to thank the ever faithful droid, earning a far less alarming sting of beeps in your ears before you chase away the last of your sleep and ready yourself for the epilogue of all of that.

        And for what might be a difficult time with all the explaining you might need to do.

        Unloading the hyperspace ring passes just easily as landing, and soon enough, you’re able to continue on foot for what might be quite the busy day that follows.

“Always the best, R15!” you cheer as you climb out of the cockpit. The said droid chirps with joy before popping themself out of the ship, cheerily watching you leave the hangar with almost a bounce in your step. 

        psh. thnk, goes the door, and for better or worse, your eyes that are searching down both ends of the hallway reveal Mace already striding towards you looking more relieved than you would have expected.

“I’m back,” you report happily, walking up to him with your mind ready and raring to finish off the rest of this dizzying plan.

        All that’s left was to finalise the fact that you had been out for a Force trip and nothing more. If Mace believes you and accepts that you were back from something Force related and not off galavanting through desert planets freeing slaves, then you could consider yourself safe.

“So you are,” he says with a breathy chuckle. “Tell me, did you find an answer? Or at least something to explain why the Force led you off planet?”

“Not really. The Force led me to Naboo, and so I went and talked to the queen. Nothing really happened after that,” you explain with a shake of your head, feigning a frown as you do so. “Perhaps I acted too soon. Unless the Force wanted me to make friends with the Queen of Naboo.”

        A puzzled expression makes its way onto Mace’s face as he contemplates your words. You haven’t had any need to lie like this to Mace before, so you’re pretty sure that upon hearing such fruitless endeavors would strike that lie-sensing nerve. That coupled with the fact that your ship only indicates the fact that you had gone to Naboo and that Padmé has agreed to becoming your alibi, your so called “trip” seems foolproof. There aren’t any ifs and buts about your trip unless someone purposely tried to dig deep for a truth that might not even exist.

“The Force works in mysterious ways,” Mace finally decides on, rubbing his chin with his fingers as if still thinking.

“It does,’’ you agree. It’s good that he’s accepted your fabricated story as truth and truth alone, but when you glance up to him and catch his eyes on you, your worry does creep up on you again.

        Still, all he does is smile. “Now, about you seeing just how much you’ve improved, [y/n].”

“A spar?” you suggest and Mace smiles, as if you knew exactly what he wanted, not what he might have known about your secret mission. Assured that he doesn’t know and may never know, you let yourself relax in his presence.

        Mission success.

——

—

        The evening of your successful mission consists of one major activity.

        Thinking. From the topic of the mission, the people you’d finally gotten to meet in person, to… 

        Between your fingers sits the holograph from a time before you. Truly, it’s a wonder you haven’t simply buckled down one day to just think about the things that have since come to be since the first day you opened your eyes in this world. Though, considering how much you busy yourself with all sorts of Jedi business, it’s no wonder you never really got the chance to really think about your supposed origins.

        And so, with time now, your finger presses the button in the middle, watching as the holograph housed within it appears into view. Your eyes wander the image, taking in all that you could see before they pause at the portion detailing the shooting star tumbling into the Father’s hands. The you from before pointed to it, according to Qui Gon, like it meant something important.

        But what was the reason for that? Was it something important specifically to you? Or perhaps something to the you who inhabited this body before? You’re not entirely sure where you’d even start in your search for answers to questions like those. Perhaps in the Force as all Jedi Masters would tell you to look, but a voice in your head seems to disagree. It’s not as though the Force has every answer anyone could be looking for, after all, even if you had the time and patience to go searching.

        Even though it might seem impossible, for better or for worse, you’re going to need to rack your brain for some sort of answer, or at the very least, a theory. Leaving something like this behind to be unanswered seems too much a dead end for something like this.

        A shooting star… There’s that superstition about how they supposedly grant wishes to people who see them. You don’t grant wishes though.

        “What am I,” grumbles a voice in your head, “some sort of magic wielding fairy?”

        You’re not, the last time you checked.

        “Or am I?” returns that voice in your head.

        Well… 

        It’s true that you’ve been saving some people off to the side and have been working to change the future into something better but it’s not like you're granting any wishes. Or, well, you suppose you could consider granting your own wishes, that’s for sure, but that can’t be your reason to be. 

        So far, you’ve saved Qui Gon and Shmi, and that technically means you’ve granted wishes for Obi Wan and Anakin respectively, right? But that can’t be it, right? Could you be the granter of the Force’s wish in saving the universe from Palpatine and the Dark Side? In the case of the true story, the one where you were never here for, this wish is granted by Luke, isn’t it? Far later into the future, at least. 

        Could it be that the Force no longer wishes to sit idly for a saviour to finally appear in the distant future? That would make this world something like a parallel universe, right? 

        Perhaps your introduction to this world was enough to bump this world off course, and pretty wildly at that. Then, if that’s the case, anything that should happen might not even happen.

        … 

        … … 

        What a headache.

        Just what sort of world is this? What’s your role in this world? What are you supposed to do and what are you supposed to be? Are you really what you’re making yourself out to be? A granter of wishes?

        There are just too many questions and too little answers.

        knock knock

“[Y/n]? Can I come in?”

        Judging from the voice, it’s Anakin behind the door, but judging by the time, he definitely isn’t here for something typical.

“Yes, come in.”

        psh. thnk

        You press the button to the device and the picture disappears just before you notice the way his eyes stare directly at the device in your hand. 

“Sorry, was I interrupting something?” Anakin stops in his tracks just in front of the door. “I can leave if that’s the case.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” you assure him while waving a hand. If anything, you’re quite glad to know that you can get a break from all that. 

        A simple gesture for him to come closer is all he needs to seal the deal and he takes a seat nearby you.

“Sorry again, for bothering you. I didn’t mean to come so late, but I had some lessons with Obi Wan during the day.”

        You were also pretty busy during the day so it can’t have been completely Anakin’s fault. “Don’t worry about it, Anakin. Is there something wrong? You don’t normally come to my room just to see me.”

“I wanted to talk,” he starts quickly and rather confidently before fidgeting with the hem of his robe sleeve. 

        His eyes aren’t meeting yours as if the things he’s about to ask about are things he would rather keep to himself. You’re about to reassure him that if he didn’t want to speak about it, then he didn’t need to, or at least that he didn’t need to force himself to speak now, but he beats you to the punch by opening his mouth again.

“It’s about something that happened recently. Do you remember?”

        The short answer is no, you don’t really know what he means. You’re sure it has to be about something out of the ordinary, after all he wouldn’t bother you at such a time about it, but it’s hard to figure out just what he means. 

        He can’t have known about the mission to free his mother, so that can't be it. But what else could it be? What happened recently that relates to Anakin directly and enough to call him to your room with such a worried and concerned expression?

        Well… 

“I guess there was one thing,” you start with uncertainty, remembering how you had reached out for a clue as to where Shmi lived. 

        There was that strange vision that you received in return— to you it seemed like something the Force just threw at you. An image of him or something as you reached into memories or something swirling within the mist and fog of the Force. You never expected or thought that it might not actually have been an image but… Anakin himself.

“Did I see you ?”

“I… I think so. I remember seeing you for a brief moment. I tried to talk to you, but I could hear you telling me that you couldn’t hear me,” Anakin explains to you, and seeing as that fact should only be known to someone who was there, he must be telling the truth.

“I didn’t tell Obi Wan about it and I wondered if you knew what happened,” Anakin continues, looking a bit fidgety. “After all, it was you who was calling out to me.”

        Makes sense to you. To hear what it might’ve been like for someone on the other side fills up some of the holes you had leftover after the Force just dropped that over your head.

“I don’t actually know what that was actually, now that I think about it,” is your answer at first.

        You try to come up with an answer to what that even was but nothing comes up other than Anakin’s own theory of you having contacted him through the Force. It’s not like you're gifted with an in-depth knowledge of the Force to come up with something that sounds any better than that anyway.

“Do you remember what you were doing?” Anakin asks curiously and you pause before you answer with something you’ll regret saying.

        After all, you absolutely cannot tell him that you were searching for Shmi through him. 

“Thinking about you,” is the answer that pops up first and foremost, slipping out of your mouth almost too easily before you see his eyes widen. 

        Seconds pass in the awkward silence and you, only then, realise the weight of your words. You move away from him, flashing the palm of your hands towards him as you hold your hands up in the air defensively.

“I was bored on the ride to Naboo, that’s all! I was wondering how you were doing back at the Temple,” you quickly try to explain.

        The mention of Naboo makes him sit up straighter and your own spirit hurt.

“Naboo? You went to Naboo?” 

        Still, Naboo and Padmé are better topics to talk about than your own slip of the tongue.

“Yes. I spoke with the Queen, Padmé Amidala. The one you talked about in your stories,” you as simply as possible.

        Anakin falls silent, face revealing that he’s just… thinking. Without making a single sound or motion all the while. Eventually, you can see the way his hands loosen from his cloak before tightening again.

“Could you… could you do it again?”

Chapter Text

“What?” is all you can say to such a request. You stare into his eyes, watching as they stare back into yours with an unnerving amount of focus.

“What you did before,” he answers curtly, his tone almost seeming a little rude with how he speaks. “Can we try it again?” 

        You aren’t exactly sure what he wants from you since you aren’t exactly sure of what happened before in that weird contact that you had with him before so you just stare on with confusion. When all he sees is your confused and unmoving body, it seems he knows, at least vaguely, what to do because he reaches out slowly and carefully.

        You watch as fingers wrap around your wrist, and before you can do anything— not that you can since your mind still hasn’t come up with any solutions— you watch as Anakin tugs it towards his chest. He pauses just before your guided hand is about to touch him, flickering his eyes up at you like he’s checking up on you.

        Now you understand what he wants from you. The gesture is familiar to you, especially if you try to remember the exact same thing happening. He wants you to do what you did before when you were tracking Shmi down. It’s strange to you for him to want to repeat this so adamantly, but you can’t really just say that to him. Whatever his intentions might be, it seems important to him. 

“Why do you want me to do it again?” Saying it like this would give you some sort of explanation without seeming rude and secretive.

“Because I saw things when you did it. Things from my childhood,” Anakin answers with an uncertain tone as if the act of confessing these things was hard for him, “and I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”

        And as much as you want to press on about why he feels that way, you’re sure that this isn’t the right time to interrogate him. You’re sure he’s worrying about something but you’re not just going to up and ask him to spill about his worries. He’ll spill if he wants to.

“Alright, I’ll try it again,” you relinquish in defeat, looking up to meet Anakin’s eyes. 

        All he does is blink like he’s surprised that you accepted his request, and then he smiles. It’s dripping with relief, warming your body from the heart out and the hand he has wrapped around your wrist loosens before pulling away completely. He seems so at peace now that you’ve at least decided to humour him and not chastise him about being too caught up in things that might be dangerous to the Jedi mind, but whether he’s thinking about that at this moment is beyond you. 

        The silence that he gives you is enough to be your signal to start and so you close your eyes. Now comes the hard part: repeating what you had done before.

        Breathing out a sigh you force your mind into a gentle calm while pushing aside any thoughts and other obstructions to your focus, you try to dig deep into the Force again. You try to repeat that desperate search you did before and it isn’t until you’ve gone a sizable distance within your mind that you see him, you think, in the distance. You press your hand forward, like you’re reaching for the image you see in the distance, and that’s when you feel the cloth of his robes within the physical world.

        You press on towards that image in your mental world, noticing the warmth of his body ebbing forward into your skin the harder you concentrate on his person. In the world within your eyes, your hand is getting close to grabbing the billowing cloak flowing in the unfelt and unseen wind of this strange world.

        But then, a strange feeling erupts from within you and something seems to fall over you like a veil. You can see a dull beige start to bleed from the darkness in front of you and your mind tells you to pull away and… 

        …and… 

        Run.

        This is nothing like before. This feeling is actively trying to keep you away, which is strange because it was so easy the first time.

        Ignoring that foreboding feeling, and probably making a mistake of a lifetime, you continue along on your trip and manage to wrap your hands around the cloth. But just as you do, the world around you immediately falls into a chilling partial darkness where patches of beige create a sense of dissonance. You swallow back the strange yet unsettlingly familiar feeling that accompanies your return into this world and concentrate strictly on the world in front of you.

        Which isn’t all that hard since you can still feel the cloth you’d caught earlier in your hand.

“[Y/n],” you hear a voice call out.

        In this state, you can’t really tell where this voice came from. Was it from the outside world or had it been from somewhere in this world? It certainly didn’t sound… bad.

        Before you can scan the surroundings for the origins, you feel the cloth underneath your hand seemingly disappear from within your grasp. Instead, something warm slides into it’s place and envelops your hand within something bigger and strangely… familiar. It isn’t until you feel something closing over your hand— fingers, they’re fingers — that you can finally see some sort of strange change to the world around you.

        Another colour blossoms from the world with nothing within it but yourself and this strange entity before another joins in to fill the world with splotches of colour. Both the colours of red and golden yellow mix together on their own somehow, now shining brightly above as if mimicking a sunset lit sky.

“You're… " breathes out a now-familiar voice from closeby.

        This catches you off guard as you had been watching the world for any changes that might give you some insight as to what’s happening, only to see nothing. A flinch rushes through you as if something had been forcibly disconnected, pushing your body to pull back and away from whatever is in front of you enveloping your hand.

        Suddenly the world is falling right before your eyes and you close them once again. It’s darkness and nothing all around until you feel something hard collide with your back. A groan passes your lips and you open your eyes to see the ceiling of your room, meaning you had fallen out of whatever that was and into the real world again.

        And onto the ground, evidently.

“[Y/n]! Are you alright?” Anakin’s face pops into view from a place hovering a good distance over yours, clearly concerned.

“I’m fine,” you answer with a wave of your hand to him. 

        His frown deepens but he doesn’t seem all too displeased, at least not obviously, and he holds out his hand for you to take. You do, letting him haul you up from the ground and onto your seat again.

“So what happened? Anything noteworthy?” is what you ask when you’re finally ready for conversation again.

“I saw Tatooine again,” he answers softly as he stares at the floor beneath his feet. He doesn’t continue right away, and you patiently wait.

        After several moments, his eyes travel back up, looking directly into yours in a different way than all other times he’s ever looked into your eyes. “And I saw you.”

        You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Not even one of the many burning questions festering in your mind. As much as you wanted to ask any of those said questions, none of them leave your mind no matter how hard you try to move your lips for them to acquire a form in the real world. 

        Why would he see you? 

        Does he know you went to save his mother? 

        Does he know about any of that?

“Anything else? Did you do anything?” is what you find yourself asking. His face scrunches up slightly and his eyes fall.

        In the silence, your mind recalls the memory of the hand and voice, reminding you of the strange presence from your point of view.

“No, nothing. I didn’t… Nothing else happened,” he answers with a voice just a tad bit higher than a whisper.

        You notice the way he pauses mid-sentence, but you try not to dwell on it. It’s great that he didn’t see anything that might jeopardize your situation and you would hate to pry more deeply than you needed to.

“Okay.” By adding a nod, you feel more reassured already. “At least we know it wasn’t a one time kind of thing.”

        Anakin looks back up, seeming a little more confident now that you’ve switched gears and changed the topic at hand. He sends you a small smile before saying, “yeah. Whatever it is, at least.”

        Then he seems to hesitate a bit. “What about you? Did you see anything?”

        You have half a mind to mention the voice calling for you and the hand that you felt but couldn’t see. When you feel your face scrunching up instinctively, you shake your head. It’s probably better to keep that to yourself for the time being.

“No, I saw nothing. I didn’t even see you this time. I didn’t last very long in that place.”

“I see,” Anakin mumbles to himself rather pensively before he grows quiet. You blink at his sudden loss of outward energy and let out a soft sigh.

“Well, at least it doesn’t feel dangerous. At least I don’t think it’s dangerous,” you comment, looking at the hand that had been connecting you to Anakin. Or at least the one you think helped in creating a connection to the teen before you. 

        Looking back at him, you search for anything from the Force around you and him, but nothing stands out. Or at least at first. The longer you seem to stare at Anakin, the warmer the air begins to feel. It seeps into your own body, making it feel like you’re… happy, or something, like you’d just gotten great news. 

        Which is weird because you’re sure that’s not your happiness. You certainly don’t feel this way yourself since there really isn’t much to feel happy about.

        Strange.

        You shake off that feeling but continue staring at Anakin in case there’s something else he wants to say. His eyes flicker up, no doubt meeting your intense gaze searching him for answers and he fidgets.

“That’s true,” he agrees with a nod. He says nothing more, even going as far as lowering his eyes back down to the ground again. It’s clear that Anakin has nothing else to say now that the deed has been done.

“Well, you must be tired. You want to head back to your room?” To avoid seeming like you were just trying to get rid of him, you add, “unless you want to stay for a little while longer?”

“No! No, no, it’s fine,” he assures while standing up. He smooths out his robes and gives you a bow. “I’ve already kept you up late enough.”

“It’s not that late,” you assure him with an unoffended tone— something he probably was expecting. “Regardless, you must be tired. If you need anything else from me, my door is always open.”

“Thank you, [y/n]. I’ll leave now so you don’t keep bothering you,” Anakin continues quickly, already making his way to the door.

“You’re never a bother,” you interject and he seems to finally run out of words to say.

        He’s overcome with silence again and his usual confidence is thrown out of the window. With a small smile and a curt nod of his head, he manages to say, “yeah, thanks.”

        Standing up from your seat, you follow him to the door but stop just before the doorway. As his robes are pulled further and further from your reach, you find that it reminds you of the way the robes from that state of mind simply disappeared from your grasp.

“Goodnight, Anakin,” you make sure to say.

“Goodnight, [y/n],” Anakin repeats to you after turning his head, sending you a smile as he does.

        Anakin’s footsteps echo through the halls as your eyes watch his figure move farther away. Your mind can’t help but linger on the sorts of things that have happened in these past few moments, even as you decide to get ready for bed.

        That’s especially the case when your mind decides to pull up what you had seen and heard. The hand felt like nothing more than a hand, now that you think about it, which gives you some reassurance about something that you can be sure of. Unlike all the other newly created mysteries… 

        But the voice calling for you… The longer you have the memory repeating it back to you does seem to be something you know and can place. In remembering how Anakin said your name just as he was about to leave, you’re sure that the voice you heard in that vision is the exact same, if not only slightly different, than Anakin’s own voice.

        It was nothing like the cold… Like hot molten. It was warm.

        … 

        Humming lowly to yourself, you shake your head violently. Nothing physical like a good shake of the head would clear your thoughts as much as you might like, but it’s worth a try. On the basis of those grounds, you can’t help but wonder what happened back there.

        Here you are again at the first base of “I have too many questions and too little answers.”

Chapter Text

        Striding through the hall as you always do, you try to keep your mind off the strange meeting with Anakin and the risky mission and try to focus on other things. Such as the shelved issue of your ability.

        Last time you left off, you believe, you were thinking about whether or not you could take the Force from someone. You’d dabbled in some pondering on the subject since you’d first brought the idea into existence, but you never really went any deeper than the surface. It’s not like you have anyone to practice on since there’s no one here to take from. You highly doubt just anyone would accept being a guinea pig for something like that.

        In that case, it’s probably better to be experimenting on yourself rather than someone else. Still, if you consider all other options of skills to try, it all ends up winding back to taking it from someone. But the only person you can imagine yourself taking that from is a Sith. You definitely can’t practice that here since, well, there aren’t an abundance of Siths in the Temple to try that on. 

        And in just theorizing… Perhaps when you can try something like that, perhaps you can try taking from them to render them powerless and yourself stronger. It’s an interesting idea and would probably benefit you on the battlefield. Only if you managed to cultivate it into a skill you can actually use, of course. Though, would taking in the Force that had been inside a Sith’s body be a safe thing to do? Would it end up tainting your own body? No one’s tried before, at least to your own knowledge, so you wouldn’t know without asking.

        Which you didn’t want to do.

        In any case, you could just toss it right back into the open. That way, it wouldn’t really have to come into contact with you. It would be nice to be able to practice something like this, but here you are again. Stuck with the fact that you need to practice.

        But on who?

        Anakin’s face pops up first, but something about fooling around with his Force makes you think you might overload with how much the Force favours him. Besides, you already tried that weird thing where you two connected, or something, so it’s probably for the best if you avoid doing Force stuff with Anakin for a good while.

        Just in case it ends up with you dropping dead, or something… 

        But Obi Wan… You could ask him. You trust him and you’re pretty sure he trusts you too. You’re pretty sure he’ll say yes if you ask him nicely enough, especially since this is about you trying to figure out the extent of your ability. 

        You run through a list of everyone you knew who should be in the Temple at the moment, thinking of someone you could trust.

        With that in mind, you begin searching. His Signature lingers within the Temple grounds, which is good, but just as you suspected, it’s a little difficult to get to a place you only have a feeling of, not the directions to. By searching for someone through the Force, you’d know someone is off in a certain direction, but then you’d get closer and realise that there’s a wall and another room in your way, which means you have to go around.

        Then that brings up the possibility of getting more and more lost because of the growing number of obstacles in your way.

        Which certainly isn’t what’s happening to you. 

        Definitely not.

        It takes what feels like hours, endless halls with an equally infinite number of rooms that seem to just appear in front of you before you find yourself in the Room of a Thousand Fountains with plenty of green to finally melt away the monotony of the halls you’ve had to navigate.

        It doesn’t take long before you find a head of copper staring into one of the fountains. Once close enough, you’re about to call out his name, only to be beaten to the greeting when Obi Wan speaks first.

“Anakin, I said—” he starts with irritation barely covered up before turning around. You watch with confusion as his annoyed expression and his furrowed brows soften at the sight of you.

“You aren’t Anakin,” is all he says.

        You certainly aren’t, last time you checked.

“Am I supposed to be? Should I get him? It sounds like you two have some things to sort out,” is what you offer. This seems a bit more important than your experiment idea.

“No, it’s alright and thank you, [y/n],” Obi Wan assures quickly. He glances around, bowing to apologize to the others within the room who had been troubled by his words, before turning back to you. “Did you need something from me?”

“I wanted to ask if you could help me with my Force ability. I have an idea, but I need some help to see if it actually works. It might be a little…” Even if this is Obi Wan, you do hesitate to tell him the truth about all of this. “Dangerous?”

“Of course,” Obi Wan states, seemingly without stopping to think.

“Uh, wait, are you sure?” you ask with some concern. “I’m not bothering you, am I? You don’t have anything else to do? And like I said, it could be dangerous.”

        You’d hate to be pulling him out of something he has to do just because he feels compelled to help you out with your sudden request.

“You don’t have to worry about me. At some point or another, training can become dangerous and that could be especially the case with your abilities,” Obi Wan assures before stepping towards the door. “Fortunately, I have a free day today as well.”

“Oh, okay,” you find yourself saying before walking up to his figure to catch up with him.

        Once he sees that you’re at his side again, he resumes his walk and you do your best to keep up with his rhythm.

        And now that you have the chance to— “So… Are things well with Anakin?”

        The first thing Obi Wan does is sigh. “He lost his temper during our spar this morning and I sent him to practice the basics to cool off,” Obi Wan answers somewhat frostily.

        The image of Anakin being a little too heated for Obi Wan’s tastes is something you can easily imagine.

“Well, Anakin will be Anakin,” you note before Obi Wan shakes his head.

“And that’s what I worry about in the future,” he responds lowly, “that he won’t be able to tell when he can win a fight and when he shouldn’t try to win. His arrogance may be the death of him, [y/n].”

        Well, that conversation just took a turn.

“He’s still young, I’m sure he’ll smarten up when he gets a little older.” You grin towards Obi Wan’s curious gaze. “Besides, you’ve got a little arrogance in you too. Though, I guess that’s from your confidence.”

“I am not arrogant,” Obi Wan corrects with a huff and a frown.

“Okay, okay, you’re confident. Sometimes just a little too confident.” You watch Obi Wan open his mouth before closing it promptly. He seems to consider your words with a hum, rubbing at his beard as he does.

“I suppose it must seem that way to you,” Obi Wan starts before he smiles. You blink at this sudden shift in mood and his smile grows. “You’ve never been one to see yourself any more than a newly appointed padawan. You’re nearly as skilled as I am so it’s quite a pity you can’t see it the same way.”

        It’s rather sudden to have him complimenting you like that and your mood swells. Your smile does just enough to burn off some of that happiness.

“Well, it’s true that I’m not that good at some things,” you confess quietly. 

        Really, to compare you to himself… Obi Wan must be losing his mind.

“You‘ve always been one to downplay your strengths, [y/n],” you hear him say before you feel a hand to your shoulder. 

        Looking up, his smile is all you see. Suddenly, the warmth on your shoulder feels so much warmer and you have to concentrate much harder on walking and keeping your eyes on the man who just doesn’t seem to know how attractive he is.

        There’s a shift in your vision and you realise that you’ve tripped like you were half expecting to. A hand grabs your arm, in any case, and it stops your descent just as suddenly as it had started

“You should be more careful, [y/n],” advises Obi Wan as if he doesn’t know that this was his fault. 

        Not that he would know that.

“Yes, I know, I know,” you reassure him before his hand leaves your arm. “Thank you for catching me.”

“It’s no problem. This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you like this.” His voice sounds cheeky, like he’s poking at all the times you’ve fallen or almost fallen and giving him the chance to help you up.

“Very funny,” you grumble as you regain your composure. 

        Making sure to send a little glare towards the man, all you receive in return is Obi Wan’s chuckle. As much as you’re a bit peeved that he made a comment like that, you are thankful. So you avoid the temptation of tossing another snarky comment towards him. Even if you did say anything else, his ever-so genius mind would easily come up with another comment in retaliation.

        But you do remember something to ask about.

“You called me Anakin earlier. What was that about?” you question curiously, looking up to him. “Did you feel something other than the emptiness?”

“Well, you aren’t empty, remember? There’s still a bit of you within yourself,” Obi Wan corrects quickly before getting to the point of answering your curiosity, “and as for mistaking you with Anakin, I’m very sorry. It’s just that…”

Chapter Text

I'll label each section by their designated number in the chap summary, so feel free to only read the ones you care about! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)ノ

(Defintely read #1 though because its about what ill be doing with the story for the next while!!)

——

1. story rewriting (because my old writing hurts me)

its all done hehe

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2. possible updating schedule change (perhaps to something more often than every 3 months????)

did not do that hehe

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3. i never addressed this fics biRTHDAY (ive got no idea if yall care LOL but i feel like i should talk about that)

The finisher!!! Thank you to any reader still here. I just wanted to say a few things before the end of the note about how old this fic is now. I missed it's 1st birthday and it's now like 1.5 yrs old (I....really don't want to have to do the math, so 1.5 will have to do.) 

I never thought I'd get this far in this fic, and considering how emotionally dense this kind of story is (as some of you might've noticed, I focus a lot on relationship building rather than the events haha) I'm surprised it's still alive and still growing larger and larger with more ideas that I end up throwing into the planning documents I have. I've got a lot of things that I hope to get to, but it will take some time and by then I fear this fic will be like, I don't know, 50 yrs old LOL (I'm sure it won't, please don't take that too seriously).

(I would like to think that) It's only going to get more wild and wild and I hope the ending isn't too cliche or boring or something you all hate, folks!!! I'm honestly terrified that the ending I have in mind might not.....be......the best...... but we'll keep trucking along to the future and see what happens!!

As always, I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for (reading this far in this author note, it must've been a chore) remaining with me on this journey! (  ｡>ω<｡)･ﾟ･ I'm not sure you all believe that fic writers like me literally cry over every comment and kudos we receive, but I sure definitely do! Without you all leaving those comments and sending those kudos my way to surprise me every day to remind me that this fic is actually loved, I think I would've lost the drive to see this story to the end quite a while ago...oof.... Each and every bit of love you send me becomes energy for me to give our little love triangle the ending I've been wanting to write for forever but have been (and still am) terrified to write for fear that it might not be the ending you all wanted or thought would come to pass) ∑(°ロ°)

I'm also quite glad none of you mention my glaring mistakes that litter the fic all over the place. Seeing them in my reread made me want to roll on the floor and lay there for hours. Yes, each one.

Chapter Text

        You watch as he turns to you, clearly showing that he has something quite heavy on his mind in his blue-grey eyes, before his hand suddenly seizes you by your shoulder and halts you in the middle of the hall. 

        Huh?

“You…” he starts before trailing off again. 

        You watch with more than just sight worry fear as his eyes narrow because that can’t possibly be good. He does let his hand go from their hold, but…

“Your Force Signature, it’s exactly like Anakin’s. At least a part of it is.”

        The statement catches you off guard completely because that definitely should not be the case. Your Signature should be your Signature and unlike all others down to the finest details.

        So in the end, a single, “what?” is all that comes out into the real world from your mouth.

“That’s why I mistook you for Anakin. I sense him in you—” and then he stops. 

        It’s as if someone with a remote control connected to the man had decided to press that one button to suddenly freeze time. Time has definitely not stopped seeing as you can see people walking around, so it must just be Obi Wan, but the conclusion only serves to make you feel a little more worried.

        Regarding him with even greater confusion than before, you watch as his face goes all blank, like he’s trying to process something.

        Then, Obi Wan’s hands return to you, grabbing both your arms and dragging you towards the side of the hall to the windows, which definitely can’t be a good sign. When he finally stops, he lets you go for the second time and leans closer while glancing about.

“I heard a rumour about Anakin coming to you a few days ago during the evening,” Obi Wan notes softly, quite careful about the words he’s uttering as if they were some ancient Jedi secret. He stops and takes in a deep breath to settle the disruption of nerves you can practically sense jumping around his body. “I’m not accusing you of anything, I really am not, but did you and Anakin… stay together that night?”

        It takes you a few seconds to comprehend his words. First, the accusation has to sink in and you have to understand it. If the sentence had been said to you in a foreign language, you wouldn’t have seen the difference. It was just that otherworldly. 

        Something like that? With Anakin? 

        What?

        What?!

“No!! ”

        Your hands could fly to your mouth and clamp it shut, but the deed has been done regardless. You watch as he flinches at the volume of your voice and you wince yourself when you catch the sight of a few other Jedi stare with concerned expressions. Nothing you can do can erase your sudden yell so you send those onlookers a quick bow to apologize for your behavior. 

“Sorry for yelling, Obi Wan,” is your tentative apology to the man you’ve probably blown the eardrums off of.

“No, it should be me apologizing. I should have known better than to accuse you of something like that,” assures Obi Wan as he pulls back with a grimace. 

        You look away from him and back towards the few Jedi within the halls. When you catch their eyes seemingly watching your every move— or Obi Wan’s— you hold out your hands and push the man forward.

“Let’s just keep walking,” you whisper softly and luckily Obi Wan nods in unequivocal agreement.

        Considering the situation… such as Anakin’s Signature melded with yours apparently, You really can blame Obi Wand for thinking that. Considering the theory work you’ve done before as a youngling, the only way something like this might happen is some really, really deep Force thing or whatever.

        …

        Well, technically deep Force stuff did happen.

“Regardless,” Obi Wan starts again with a cough into his fist as if to refresh the conversation, “there’s something off about your Force Signature. I can sense Anakin inside of you as well as your own. Have you two possibly, well, mediated together? It’s possible that meditating together has, in a way, molded you two together in a way that, well, intimacy is supposedly capable of.”

        He ponders for a moment, adding, “though, I can’t say for certain I know what this situation even is.”

        This thing is definitely way out of the league of your knowledge. If Obi Wan didn’t know, then you weren’t going to find out anything unless you tried your luck with Yoda. You wince at the though of needing to explain some sort of situation to the Jedi Master sometime in the future. 

“Me neither, but I don’t think it’s from meditating. However, I do believe that I connected with him through the Force.” You try to explain what might have led up to this point, but you’re not too sure if it really does justice. “He wanted to try it again, which is why he came by a few days ago, and when we did, this change must have taken place.”

“Strange,” Obi Wan comments before sending you a glance, “has Master Windu noticed this?”

“No, I just learned of it with you just now,” you answer while shaking your head. You have a nagging feeling that telling him will be both good and bad. After all, nothing about this seems very intune with the Force and what they teach padawans.

“Your ability continues to become more mysterious as time progresses,” Obi Wan comments before his frown changes to a small smile. At the very least, it is nice to know that even if this might cause a panic, not everyone would think bad of it. “You could say you’re one of the many mysteries in this Temple.”

        Great.

“I don’t think it’s that strange,” you grumble because it’s not like that’s really a compliment, “Anakin and I just have this strange bond through the Force now— like a Force Bond, in some way.”

        Or whatever that was. It’s not like you’re too sure about Bonds made through the Force outside of Training Bonds.

“Have you ever seen this happen before? Maybe in the records? You are older than me,” you ask curiously but Obi Wan shakes his head.

“No, I haven’t. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard of sensing another within someone else, but I have heard of Force Bonds of course, though mostly in the case of Training Bonds.” Obi Wan turns to you and hums. “Perhaps you’ve established the rarest kind of Bond that not many have seen. Your case sounds like it matches the general description of the rarer sort of Force Bonds, after all.”

“It does?” At your question, Obi Wan nods.

“It’s often established when two Force sensitives have a deep and trusting Bond between them. Considering how rare it seems to be, as these Bonds happen outside of the typical cases of Master and Padawan, I would assume they would need something like a catalyst to form.”

        Trust Obi Wan to have so much information stored in that head of his. It’s good to know that all hope for answers isn’t lost.

“My weird connection with Anakin might’ve been that, then,” you note with a nod, finally feeling some degree happier now that you have a great deal of information to work on before eventually meeting with Mace.

        At least you won’t be meeting them empty handed now.

“Perhaps. Can you sense him now?” Obi Wan asks curiously, like he’s testing the extent of your strange Bond.

        You try just to check, focusing on that supposed string tethering you to Anakin. You can sense his Signature somewhere far off doing whatever it is he’s doing, and in order to pull more from that simple observation, you concentrate a little harder. Just as you’d done before, you dig just a bit deeper before hearing a familiar hum in the air.

        And suddenly, the world around in front of you isn’t the hall anymore, rather it’s the Training Dojo, though a little blurry as if your eyes can’t focus on it. In this strange vision, Anakin is staring back at you with a training saber in hand and clearly in the middle of what you can only assume was an intense workout before you interrupted.

“Anakin?” you call out in a lowered voice and the Anakin that you see narrows his eyes while peering around your surroundings.

“[Y/n]? What’s happening? Why can I see you?” Anakin questions all too normally.

“I don’t really know what’s happening myself, but Obi Wan said he sensed your Signature in me.” The answer makes him obviously more lost. “We figured we had something like a Force Bond and I tried to search for you, but it looks like we… connected instead?”

“[Y/n], who are you talking to?”

        A glance to your side reveals Obi Wan with furrowed eyebrows and eyes watching you with an intense look like he's trying to make sense of something he can’t make sense of.

“I’m talking to Anakin. I connected us. He’s over there,” you answer while pointing to Anakin. Turning back around, Anakin seems to be staring at your side where Obi Wan is with squinted eyes.

“Is Obi Wan with you?” Anakin inquires while cocking his head to the side.

“Yes, he’s right here,” you answer, staring to feel like you’re just speaking into a vacuum, gesturing to Obi Wan standing at your side.

“Are you sure? I don’t see him, [y/n],” says Anakin with a crinkle of his nose.

        Huh?

“It seems the Force Bond you two share doesn’t allow for outsiders,” you hear Obi Wan say with a low tone. You look up to him to see that he has quite the narrow eyed stare.

“I suppose so,” you mumble, unable to say anything else.

        You look back up to Anakin to see him rubbing the sweat from his cheek, regarding you with silence. The longer you seem to stare, the more strange feelings start to crop up within your body. It’s foreign, you know that for a fact, but you can’t tell where it’s coming from.

        It reminds you of the previous night when you felt some strange emotions that you were sure you weren’t feeling. Whatever it is, this foreign feeling of… well… interest? Curiosity? It starts to fade, and so does the image of Anakin within the blurry sights of the Dojo. You see Anakin scrunching his face up a bit at this strange fading effect, but he says nothing. All he does is blink and send you a nod like he understands what’s happening or is feigning his understanding. 

        Left with nothing else to do, you nod back just before the scene melts away completely for the hall again.

        More questions. Great.

“Let’s just keep going,” you say, tugging on Obi Wan’s sleeve.

“What happened?” Obi Wan questions while following after your hurried steps. “And has Anakin left?” 

“Nothing much happened, and yes, Anakin’s gone. Our connection didn’t last too long,” you answer. 

        You're still a little unsure about all this “Bond” stuff and it’s definitely not a Training Bond, that’s for sure. Those need time and gradual trust to be made. You're pretty sure you’re supposed to have that one with Mace considering that, but… 

        Did you even have one? Training Bonds allow the Master and Padawan to connect much more deeply than many other kinds of pairs, you're pretty sure, but the way that the two of you go along makes you wonder if you even have a deep Bond. 

        Sure you trust and respect the man, but is that the extent of it? It almost seems like you’re just skimming the surface, not to mention that Mace doesn’t even seem to notice anything wrong with the Force around you most of the time even when he probably should. Unless you’re actually incredibly talented in covering your emotions, shouldn’t he have noticed your lie about your rescue mission?

        …

        Or maybe there’s something else at work.

        You know for a fact that you aren’t exactly the epitome of a Jedi, especially not compared to someone like Obi Wan. To say that you’re a terrible Jedi is also wrong, but you know for a fact that sometimes you aren’t completely composed and calm like you should be, yet nothing terrible happens. The anger and sadness that come with being a normal human have exploded before, you know that, but there are times when Mace doesn’t mention it. 

        And since he’s never really said anything, that should mean that he can’t sense it. Considering this, there’s no way he’s just not noticing you. There’s no way he’d just let you carry on with such Dark Side emotions. There’s got to be a reason for why he doesn’t mention it, but the only reason you can think of is that he just doesn’t sense it? Maybe there’s something that’s not allowing him to make that connection?

        Since this isn’t too dangerous of a topic to bring up with Mace, you make a promise to yourself to ask him about it later. It seems quite important, and whatever answers you find, perhaps they’ll lead to other helpful developments as well.

“[Y/n]?”

        You stop your heavy thoughts and look up to the man you’d been walking with for the past few minutes. When your eyes meet his, he raises and eyebrow, peering at you with concern and worry.

“You looked as though you were thinking about something rather distressing,” he notes before turning his sights back to the hall in front of him.

        At the very least, Obi Wan has always been quite good at reading you. A little more than Mace.

“It’s nothing too distressing. What you said… It’s made my mind wander a bit,” you answer simply. 

        If you even wanted to tell him what was on your mind, you don’t want to be voicing any of your deeper thoughts until you’re at least in a more private place.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

        Just before you’re about to respond with an assurance that you’re fine, you catch a glimpse of his face to find something strange. 

        He’s smiling. And not just any sort of smile either, but cheeky. He tilts his head just enough to stare back at you with both eyes and his lips rise ever so slightly at the corners and you can tell he’s trying to one up you as he normally is apt to do.

        It’s a memory of those same words that he’d just uttered that remind you why he must seem so amused by his own words. After all, you’ve heard those words before when you yourself had asked him the exact same thing so long ago.

“No, Obi Wan, I think I’m fine,” you answer while rolling your eyes. But you do feel a smile rising forth.

“I see,” is all Obi Wan says as if he hadn’t tried to flip the metaphorical table between the two of you.

        He turns away soon after so that his nose is pointed down the hall again, but his eyes remain on you. They watch you as his smile stretches further across his cheeks and you can only shake your head. Still, you do thank him even though the gratitude echoes only in your mind. The heavy feelings that came with your rambling thoughts flutter away with the sight of him acting so light and cheerful.

        It’s like he knows when something’s wrong.

        … 

        Maybe he can feel that you're feeling off? Feeling the Force change around you in a way that Mace doesn't?

“Obi Wan?”

“Yes?”

        He never fails to answer.

Chapter Text

“So how do you, well—” You pause for a moment, trying to figure how to word it properly— “How do you always seem to know how I feel? How do you do it?” 

“I can sense it, of course,” Obi Wan answers matter-of-factly. “I can tell that you try to hide it, so it’s faint, but it’s there. It takes quite a lot of work to find it, but it’s worth knowing how you are. You’re not often too verbal about it otherwise.”

        It’s touching to know that he’s doing so much to see how you are, but it doesn’t erase the fact that had it been that simple, surely Mace would notice something off about you. 

“I see,” comes your response. There are just more and more reasons why you should speak to Mace.

        And soon.

        Though it does feel nice to know that he worries enough to check in on you.

“But that isn’t all,” adds Obi Wan like he’d been withholding some sort of important information for the sake of the surprise factor. “We’ve known each other for a very long time, [y/n]. I can tell when something is bothering you, my friend.”

        Obi Wan calls you “friend” but his voice is so light when he says that simple word that it leaves it dancing around your mind. You can’t help but smile as the warm feeling that comes with such a statement floods through every inch of your body.

“It’s nice to know that you know me so well,” you confess, sending him a glance to which he smiles at. 

        He chuckles ever so lightly, practically blinding you with another one of his radiant smiles. You basically have to grab a tight hold of your inner self from tripping again because seriously, a Jedi shouldn’t feel so much affection for any one individual.

        And even less so because this is Obi Wan. At that thought, you can feel your mood take a bit of a tumble. Curious, you sneak a glance towards Obi Wan when you notice how fast your thoughts have spiralled down to check whether the copper haired man has noticed your sudden drop in conversation, but his eyes are on the path before him. 

        How typical of him to be focusing on the present and what’s there before him.

        To avoid drawing attention to yourself, you turn back to the floor too. Upon remembering the sorts of things you were talking about before, you begin to wonder if he’s managed to feel your change in mood. Maybe he did but doesn’t want to pry. 

        Maybe, maybe not. 

        Being a Jedi with so many opportunities to be able to read others sure leaves quite a lot of unanswered and half answered questions. Or perhaps he isn’t expending energy to be searching your mind.

        Despite your lamenting and convoluting thoughts, Obi Wan doesn’t say anything more so you know you can assume that he can’t hear everything. Which, overall, is a reassuring possibility.

        The walk continues on just as the world never stops to allow you to collect your thoughts and it doesn’t end until the two of you have entered a training room far from all the others, courtesy of your reminder of the nature of your abilities.

“I’d nearly forgotten about that,” he notes as he enters behind you, low tone filled with regret.

“It’s fine,” you reassure quickly. If not for the fact that you’re used to taking up the far end of the Training Hall, you might not have remembered yourself.

“Then, shall we begin?” Obi Wan offers, stopping near some seats situated close to each other. “I’m sure you must have quite a few things to try out.”

        Truthfully, the simplicity of his words seems like an understatement, but you do glance affirmatively at the man’s suggestion. With that, the two of you take a seat near each other.

“Well,” you start, mind sifting through the many reasons for bringing him here.

        One is to be able to take the Force out of someone. Of course, to practice this on Obi Wan, you’d only take a little bit and then see if he becomes weaker or if he’s even affected by it.

        Second is to cycle the Force from around you in the air into someone’s body. Basically, you’d be taking and putting back the Force into Obi Wan. 

        It should all be fine, right?

“Well, I wanted to see if I could take the Force out from within someone. I do well to move the Force externally, and since I can take in the Force, I wanted to try doing the opposite,” you explain slowly, mildly fearing for whatever Obi Wan might think of you for such a ludicrous idea.

“So, what you’re saying is you would like to try and remove some of the Force from within me?” Obi Wan clarifies and you nod. 

        He doesn’t get angry at you for such a crazy idea. All he does is just hum pensively, lifting a hand to his beard as he rubs his fingers over his chin in thought. 

“In theory, I believe it should work,” is what he tells you.

        Oh.

        Oh.

“And that’s why I wanted to try,” you blurt out, this time with a little more confidence as it seems as though you’ve found a great experimenting partner and not an obstacle. “That and the idea of putting the Force into someone, like the way you’d pull it into yourself.”

“But it is a different principle,” notes Obi Wan with a curt nod, “drawing in the Force is very much different than pushing the Force in and out of someone. Despite that, do you wish to continue?”

        You’re determined to see this through, and though his words sound awfully like a warning, you’re ready.

“Yes.”

        Surprisingly, you're met with another smile, this one almost changing Obi Wan’s eyes into crescent moons, as he regards you with a kind of proud air. Or, at least that’s what you think you’re looking at. You can practically feel the happiness radiating off of him and a feeling of joy rises from you in response. 

“Then let us begin,” Obi Wan declares before you nod in tandem. 

        And so starts the preparation for such a strange idea. You take in a deep breath, shifting into a more comfortable position before closing your eyes. The inner workings of your body and mind are calmed and you focus on the Force around you.

        You can vaguely sense the way it ebbs and flows around you, and the most obvious thing you feel is Obi Wan’s presence in the room. As he’s a Jedi, the Force that he has in his body is like a beacon in your eyes. All Jedi are essentially that, as you’ve noticed, and being so close to them while meditating this way makes his Signature feel quite bright.

        Pushing past that, you delve your mind into the task at hand and focus on the swirling energy in the room. You can sense it drifting towards you, fueling this meditative state, but you try to centre your attention to Obi Wan this time. You can sense the miniscule amounts drifting into and out of the man if you look hard enough, and with your sights on the figurative tap draining the Force from him, you try to nudge more of the Force to leave. 

        The body, you noticed early on during training such as this, naturally lets the Force flow out just as it naturally lets the Force flow in. It seems to be part of a cycle that seems as natural as breathing. So natural that, from what you’ve noticed, is that the only way to differentiate a natural outflow and an induced one would be the amount that leaves and at what speed. A natural flow was slow and steady whereas the commanded would flow faster and a little less controlled.

        When you noticed the amount leaving Obi Wan increase by a bit, you let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Still determined to find out the effects of the draining, you try to push it to let out more— which really doesn’t manipulate it any further as you can’t choose how much drained out at once anyway, only the speed— and wait as the trickling stream continues to run at the same speed as before.

        You don’t stop your induced outflow until a minute or two have passed. Opening your eyes, you see Obi Wan with his own eyes closed and seemingly fine. However, when you look a little closer, namely at his hands, you notice that the man isn’t actually as fine because they’re clamped around his knees. Truly, he looks like he’s about to lose his last meal at any second.

        What… what happened?

“Are you okay?!” you ask while jumping to your feet. 

        Shifting one step closer gives him time to open his eyes before he smiles again. His lips quiver for just a second as if being held down to quell the obviousness of the motion, but you catch it.

“I did not expect to feel so weakened by that, but perhaps I should have,” Obi Wan answers with a casual chuckle. 

        And you didn’t expect that such a small change would affect him so terribly.

        He pulls his hands from his knees and straightens his back, leaving you to fall back onto the cushions behind you as the massive weights of relief are thrown off your shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” you ask breathlessly, still recovering from the shock of seeing him looking somewhat awful, and he nods.

“Of course, [y/n]. It’s not enough to cause me to faint, but I do feel a slight yet clear… loss,” Obi Wan explains before he nods minutely. “I hope it’s safe to assume that you’re the cause for that?”

        An affirmative hum and a nod is your answer. Allowing a sigh to pass your lips, you let the feeling of being glad to know that Obi Wan is fine pass completely before continuing to worry just a little bit. 

“Are you feeling sick?” you continue to ask, just to make sure you reach all the bases. “Maybe nauseous?”

“I believe my queasiness is related to the unnatural feeling of losing the Force inside of me, so I suppose I must be wholly fine,” Obi Wan answers thoughtfully with a tone that seems to prioritise reassuring you. “It must be the body’s natural response to such a sudden imbalance.”

        In other words, there aren’t any negatives directly related to sucking the Force out of someone other than a weird sick feeling that looks to be quite the regular bout of nausea. In terms of advantages in battle, perhaps making your opponent feel like they want to puke would give you some time and opportunity, but… Then again, it requires quite a lot of concentration, and in comparison to simply taking the Force into your own body, this skill needs a lot of work to make usable, if at all, in battle. 

        And this isn’t even considering the fact that any self respecting Sith would try and kick you to the ground before you can even try. Obi Wan is a willing target, as well. Just how annoying might a Sith’s mental shields be? Considering how pale Obi Wan looks, you don’t really want to have to try it out today.

        Or maybe ever unless for a very good reason… 

“Alright,” you say aloud, dispersing and concluding your own thoughts. Looking at Obi Wan, you decide to move on. “Now I’m going to test giving you the Force. Is that okay?”

        Obi Wan chuckles at the bold declaration, returning his hands to his knees. If he wanted to take a break before trying another strange thing, he doesn’t say.

“Well, if the first test has shown me anything, hopefully this one won’t make me feel like I’ve eaten too much.”

        The sudden jab at the situation has you silent for a quick moment to really let the comment sink in. When it does, you feel your mood brighten within seconds. 

        Really, you’re quite sure that only Obi Wan would make light of such a thing.

        Without any further ado, you ready yourself to start a process you often do to yourself daily, hearing soft shifting cloth that must be Obi Wan readying himself as well. With the success of the first test sinking into your mind, you have no doubt that this one should end just as well.

        But then you hit a wall— figuratively and literally— and you feel your mood drop drastically.

        Here come the difficulties you were dreading.

Chapter Text

        Unlike before, when you could imagine some sort of faucet to control the naturally escaping Force, taking in was a different process because it seemed to be quite the sporadic process. The release of the Force happens almost equally and is balanced all throughout the body yet the Force that entered the body was more often than not happening more in some places than others. Because of the variability in the intake of the Force, theoretically, this is impossible.

        Moreover, it seems like these places are at least partially guarded by some kind of wall.

        But then again, what part of your own existence hasn’t already broken several impossibles? Surely you should be able to overcome this issue.

        You pause and open an eye to look at Obi Wan. To your luck, his eyes are closed again, hiding you from the possibility of being caught knowing nothing of what to do next. He looks like he’s concentrating too, probably readying himself for whatever wave of nausea is waiting for him. That or he’s just sitting there and observing your cautious knocking on these walls, if he can even feel them.

“[Y/n]?” calls Obi Wan’s voice and you flinch out of your watch of him.

“Y-yes?”

“I’m not sensing anything anymore. Did it not work?” Obi Wan inquires, peeking open an eye as well. When he sees that you're watching him, he opens both eyes and his hands relax a bit from their grip on his legs.

“Oh, uh, no, it’s just that I haven’t tried,” you stutter out to the eyes seemingly watching your every move. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

        You watch as Obi Wan stares on with vague surprise, before his lips twitch into a smile. He closes his eyes and lets out a soft chuckle just as his hands return to his knees. At least someone looks like they’re having fun, even as they’re just closing their eyes.

        Then one opens again, eyeing you with a single grey-blue iris. “Anytime now, [y/n].”

        The teasing edge of his voice makes you roll your eyes and shift into a comfortable position again. Fueled by his prodding comment, you try restart the process again, only to find yourself observing the walls locking you out from pushing the Force into Obi Wan.

        Fortunately, it seems as if they’re quite thin walls, nothing like the walls a Jedi puts around their minds as a means of protection. It seems like something much more… primitive? It’s hard to explain, but you can tell that it’s probably easy to break. Whatever it is, for that matter.

        Well, maybe not break but perhaps slip past. Breaking implies something rather violent and painful and you definitely wouldn’t want to hurt Obi Wan by forcing your control through, of course. 

        Unfortunately, even that doesn’t seem easy, shielding the older Jedi from your grasp and you can’t help but frown.

“You may feel some… discomfort?” is what you report to the man as you continue observing the walls.

“Thank you for the warning. Do what you believe you must do, [y/n]. I trust in your judgement.”

        A part of you was hoping that maybe he’d stop you from going forward so that you might’ve been able to avoid needing to go through the front, but it looks like that’s not the case. Swallowing back your apprehension, all you can do now is hope that nothing bad will happen. The first testing didn’t hurt him and you were taking something away from him. This, by that logic, shouldn’t hurt him either, right?

        … 

        Hopefully… 

        Well to start, prodding the wall didn’t work, so you need more force. You'll just have to make sure you're keeping tabs on Obi Wan and remain ready to halt your actions in case it all goes south.

        Lifting a hand into the air and holding the palm towards Obi Wan, you draw the power you have to a concentrated spot in the centre of your palm directed towards Obi Wan. Though you can’t see the process, you can feel it surging to the obstacle standing in your way. Of course, you make sure to slow it down just before it meets with the wall, hitting it with a strength not too unlike a gentle slap.

        Then, you press harder. You're just about to increase the amount of power as even that doesn’t seem to be enough, before you hear a soft grunt that sends everything to a standing halt. Even your own breath and anything else that could tip the situation into something horribly worse.

“Keep going,” you hear Obi Wan whisper and second doubts begin to arise from the idea of carrying on. It’s almost strange how he isn’t questioning the sudden bombardment on his body by you.

“But Obi Wan, what if it—”

“I can handle it,” he interjects and you draw in a breath. “I want you to see this through, [y/n]. Whatever discoveries we make of your power, the better it will be for you.”

        His words bring back enough of your confidence for you to steel your nerves and gather your strength together again. Deciding that you should do as he says, you press forward with what should be enough power. The wall standing before you seems to warp underneath your renewed assault, bending back slightly like stretchy cloth, only to stop so far and eliciting a crack you don’t hear with your ears, but from within your mind.

        Obi Wan takes in a sharp inhale and you pause again. The wall seems to dissipate after that, like a fog plaguing the early morning just… breaking away. You're left with seemingly free access to the reddish blonde. 

        You definitely don’t like how it’s suddenly not difficult anymore.

        Your eyes open, and from what you can tell, he seems wholly fine.

“Are you okay, Obi Wan?” 

        The first part of just finding a way into Obi Wan’s reserves deep within his body are completed, leaving just the giving part left.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he answers with a deep exhale. 

        You watch him for a few moments as concern crawls its way up your spine again. He opens his eyes, smiling.

“It didn’t affect me as much as you must think it does, I promise. Judging by the worry in your eyes, I must be making it seem a lot worse than it actually is.” His tone is light and the concerned part of you hates his easygoing tone.

“I see,” are the only words slipping past your lips. 

        You narrow your eyes at the way his breaths slip past his lips a little faster than normal and the way his shoulders seem to have fallen from their typical height. He looks tired and not at all completely alright as he says he is.

        A touch jerks you out of your thoughts and you flinch, looking down and away from Obi Wan’s face. There’s a hand resting over your shoulder and it’s Obi Wan leaning forward to close the distance between you. He’s regarding you with a telltale warmth in his eyes and a smile hidden beneath his beard despite the obvious fatigue in his furrowed brows.

“I’m not as weak as you may think I am. My body can handle this much at least,” he whispers and you can feel his fingers press a little harder onto your shoulder in a way to really give weight to his words “The feeling is passing and I am alright, I promise.”

“Okay, alright,” you say softly, finally admitting defeat and handing over victory. It’s hard for you to say anything else when he pushes you like that.

        You can feel his hand moving slowly down your arm, inching along in silence as his eyes continue staring into yours. It’s not intense, no, it’s far from that. It seems… 

        Well… 

        You can’t explain the feeling behind the eyes that watch you, and by the time you realise that, the warmth over your hand seems to increase. It spreads over your fingers and the back of your hand with a weight presses down firmly yet gently, doubling the temperature of your own flesh and blood. With your heart hammering like this, Obi Wan wouldn’t need to consult the Force to find out how you are.

        A deep breath enters your body and your brain tells you to look down at your hand. 

        You don’t.

        And so you watch as Obi Wan stares on, taking in the way his hair falls over his face, framing the way his eyebrows arch over his hauntingly beautiful eyes. Coloured in such a heavy yet light blue with hints of a shadow in the way the blue tips into grey, you're lost in the moment Obi Wan has created with a few, simple words. With lips parted slightly, almost like he wishes to say something, end up revealing nothing.

        He almost looks lost, actually. It’s strange to see someone like Obi Wan seeming so missing from the present.

        Forever finally ends when Obi Wan blinks and then blinks again. He pulls away while clearing his throat, darting his eyes to the side. Leaning back to his typical, well-mannered sitting position consisting of a straight back and tall shoulders, he finally drags his eyes back to you. You can tell his cheeks are flushed a tad beneath his beard, but the cause is unknown to you. 

        Shame? Embarrassment? You’re not too sure of what the right answer is.

“Shall we continue?”

        You’re a bit glad that he’s just brushing off the earlier exchange and you nod. It’s not like you have any inclinations to bring up what had happened earlier either.

        So you return to what you were doing before.

        A quick check on his state of being tells you that he’s the same as always and that there isn’t anything terribly wrong after breaking that strange barrier. When the memory of his touch from earlier manages to creep back into your mind, a sour taste rises to your tongue. 

        … 

        It’s easier to forget about it and move on, just as he did.

        You close your eyes and the sight of the Force returns in your mind’s eye despite the strong image of Obi Wan’s eyes flaring up behind your eyelids.

        You breathe out a heavy sigh and try to concentrate on the Force around you, guiding it gently towards Obi Wan. At first, the Force just glides past his now barrier-less figure, but with a harsher push from your end, the Force finally begins to drift into Obi Wan general person. It's arguably an easy process and you’re given very little work to do as the Force just moves in. It’s almost as if it only needed a single and weak shove to kickstart the process.

        But then, something happens. Nothing good, at least at first.

        You see something like liquid coloured in a deep orange bleed over the darkness of your mind and a feeling of wanting to pull away falls over your mind. You recognize this feeling, remembering this exact feeling from before when you were with Anakin. But because you know it shouldn’t hurt you and because you might learn what this is all about, you hold still.

        Suddenly, the world is flooded with that deep orange colour with the top of your vision darkening while the bottom brightens, creating a gradient of orange. Surrounded by such a beautiful view, a brief thought that this is what the sky looks like during a sunset passes in the calm silence.

“[Y/n],” whispers a voice that seems there yet not at the same time and you're reminded of what happened before with Anakin. 

        You hold your breath and try to prepare yourself this time for whatever might come. You don’t want to jump away and run from a possible answer.

“[Y/n].”

        Something wraps around your wrist. Forcing down the urge to rip your body away and turn around instead to meet the voice calling for you in a familiar way. 

        And then, you're met with Obi Wan’s face filled to the brim with shock. You watch his lips move but his voice doesn't drift past them. Instead, something like a breeze rushes by, tugging your hair back and forcing you to squint your eyes just so that you can keep your eyes on Obi Wan.

“[Y/n], I—” is what you manage to hear before the wind seems to drown it all out. It rushes faster and faster towards you, pushing and shoving until your body finally seems to give out against the strength.

        Finally, you force your eyes shut and then the telltale sensation of falling follows. Then, pain explodes all over your back. Gasping at the sudden feeling, your eyes shoot wide open and you're greeted with the sight of the ceiling rising far above you, seemingly mocking you and prompting you to remember that you’d gone through this exact ordeal just last night.

        At least this time you’re not that high off the ground.

“[Y/n]! Are you alright?” You see Obi Wan moving closer to crouch next to you and you breathe out a sigh.

“Good but my back hurts,” you grumble, shifting to adjust your body and groaning when your back seems to retaliate with a throb of pain. 

        You weren’t sure if falling onto your back last night left a bruise, but considering the fact that you’d fallen onto it again like this, even from a only a little ways up off the ground, you wouldn’t find yourself surprised if one would appear soon.

“Thank the Force,” Obi Wan breathes out, practically bathing in relief and holding out a hand. You take his offering and he pulls you up, guiding you back onto the seat with gentle hands. “What happened?”

“I don’t really know,” you answer at first, “but I saw you. You were trying to say something to me but I suppose the Force didn’t want you to. I was pushed out again.”

        You watch as Obi Wan face stills, glossing over with the same blank expression from before. He blinks once before finally moving and carrying on the conversation.

“‘Again’?” he echoes.

“Last night with Anakin,” you answer while rubbing your back with an incoherent grumble to your strange gravitation to falling to the ground. “The same thing happened before— The exact same thing. I was pushed out from my connection with him too.”

        This time, Obi Wan hums as he turns his head to stare off towards the side in thought. You watch as he falls into silence, shifting in your seat while half heartedly nursing the throbbing in your back.

“How are you feeling? Not sick, I hope?” you ask, bringing Obi Wan’s attention back to you. 

“The nausea from before seems to have disappeared. Perhaps you returning the Force into my body helped balance the removal,” Obi Wan answers and you breathe out a sigh of relief. It’s good that he didn’t feel sick anymore.

“That’s good.” You simply repeat the words swimming in your mind when no other words seem to step up to be said. 

“At the moment, I’m more worried about you, [y/n]. Are you sure you’re alright?” Obi Wan leans a little closer and his eyes are wandering your face, no doubt looking for any signs of contradictions to your inevitable promise of being well.

“I don’t feel horrible at all,” you reassure him. “I really am fine.”

“And your back?”

“Just sore. I did fall on it twice so far.”

        Obi Wan finally pulls away and you take this as a break from his worry. He shifts in his seat, blinking at the sight of your eyes.

“Could this all be considered a success?” He stares on with interest, smiling with only a slight tweak of his lips. Yet, the little action seems so bright in your eyes. 

        Nodding, you let your eyes fall to your legs, staring at them instead of Obi Wan. Overall, yes, everything was a success. Both theories seem to check out and work without much problem other than the fact that you need to practice both skills in order to utilise them well.

        Plus, you did get to be with Obi Wan for a while, which is nice.

“Yes, it was a success.”

        Your eyes climb back up to catch the sight of Obi Wan’s smile growing bigger, warming the heart within your chest. After something like this, you can’t help but feel just a little closer to your goal of saving the universe and the world, and not to mention, closer to Obi Wan.

Chapter Text

        Chaos is all there is to this scene. 

        You have half a mind to remain still, watching as everything falls into disaster after disaster. Of course, to stand by and watch as everything burns to the ground before you isn’t a better alternative either, so you don’t. There’s just so much to be done, and if you look away for a second, the worst thing you can lose is your life. 

        Which is bad, very bad. You need to be alive for what you want to do.

        To think that very little had happened to lead up to this point. At least in your point of view, it wasn’t much. There’s only so much a person like you, basically a background character, can do as those main players trapeze about, sending dominoes after dominoes tumbling. Your sideline role means that you can only watch your friends wander into danger after danger until things escalate to the boiling point known as the battle that starts it all.

        You have seconds to figure out your next moves.

        You watch as Mace is knocked over the side of the balcony and plummeting into the stadium below. Jango seems to glance at you for a moment before turning away and following behind the stronger Jedi with his jetpack igniting the air behind him. You’re left standing up there and luckily not within the direct presence of Dooku himself as he strides off with a group of droids. 

        He’s watching you though, seemingly goading you to approach and take him on.

        You know for a fact that you can’t take him on by yourself, and considering the amount of droids with him, it’d be best not to. So you turn your attention to Mace and Jango and Dooku seems to let you be.

        Big mistake on your part, but you’ll let him figure that out on his own in the future when you’ll hopefully beat him down to further your own plot of peace.

        Your mind whirls at the stress and pressure of the situation and you remember what happens with Jango and Boba and how it guides a path into the future. Even after all these years within this world, you remember vividly how he’ll grow up with a vendetta against the Jedi, and with the constantly churning motion of the future that almost promises you that nothing would go as planned, the vendetta could actually end with a major death.

        A major death that would no doubt be bad. 

        And so you leap after them instead of risking a tussle with Dooku, who just watches carefully as you glide through the air towards the ground. Against someone like you, what need is there to have such a huge group of droids protecting him? He could easily take you out without Mace near you. At the thought of this, your blood chills and you rip your eyes away from the older Sith.

        You have other things to deal with. If he wasn’t going to come to you, then the better it is for you.

        The Force cushions your fall and you immediately race towards the sight of Mace’s purple saber that’s poised and ready to slash right through the Mandolorian’s neck. Seconds tick by as your body charges towards the purple light with your own humming blade. No sound is left undistorted, leaving you with a blur of action all around you.

        Then, almost too soon, the light from your saber collides with purple and you thrust a hand to Jango’s chestplate with as much of the Force from around you as you can to send him flying into the colosseum wall. The sandy cement cracks under the sheer speed and sudden weight and dust billows out from the cracks all around Jango. His body collapses onto the ground and you rush forward to now restrain him.

“[Y/n]! What are you doing?!” you hear Mace yell from behind you and you turn to face his rightfully angered expression. 

        Pausing halfway to the collapsed body, you find yourself in a dilemma now. You can’t tell him that you’d just saved him a world of danger, but perhaps you can convince him that what you’d done was loads better than what he’d have done.

“Jedi don’t kill!” you find yourself yelling back. “Weren’t you the one who taught me to be mindful of my actions and choices? What if his death means something worse down the road?!”

        Mace flinches at the volume of your voice. It’s reasonable that he would be surprised. If you think about it, you don’t think you’ve ever yelled at anyone before for fear of being labelled too angry or too negative. Now, in this chaos, your patience is slipping faster and faster than your self control can accomodate for. There’s just too many other things to worry about right now.

        You turn away from Mace and see Boba looking up from Jango’s body. You hadn’t noticed when he reached his father’s body, but he’s there now. His face scrunches up in anger and grief and suddenly he reaches for Jango’s blaster. Alarm surges your mind and you thrust your hand out towards the gun. If you'd been more careful, the gun would’ve flown right into the palm of your hand, but you’re not. You’re acting in pure instinct and the desire to move quickly means that there’s bound to be mistakes.

        krrtch

        skrrt skrtch chk

        The blaster soars in the other direction, colliding against another section of the wall before carving a line into the sandy ground. Before you can move, you see a blur rushing past you and then Mace wrestling with Boba to keep him from doing any more damage to anyone or anything.

“Find something to restrain them with!” Mace yells, snapping you out of your bewildered stare. You hadn’t expected him to cooperate with you after such a shaky apprehension of his actions.

        "But that’s easier said than done, Master," you think to yourself, but you bite back that retort and rush to Jango’s body, looking for something— anything — that would work to bind someone. He’s a bounty hunter so he’s got to have something meant for restraining, but you can’t find anything. Glancing out into the centre of the colosseum, all you see is chaos and it’s a miracle that neither of you have been shot at by a droid yet. 

        Turning away from the chaos, you continue your search for something to use. You don’t stop until you catch sight of your long sleeves.

        Sleeves made of cloth, to be more specific.

        You have more, you tell yourself. Neatly folded in your closet, your spare change of clothing will have to become your main change. With a solid plan in mind, you tug your outer robe off before tearing through it as quickly as you can with the help of your own saber. Not time for careful handiwork means jarring edges, but it doesn’t matter when it means that both Jango and a snippy Boba are tied up.

        It’s only when Boba’s aggressive insults and shouting strike the last patience you have that a quick hand lashing out to the side of his neck, courtesy of all your combat training and learning from you many mentors finally appears to silence the child. At least until he manages to wake up from being knocked out.

        After sharing a nod, Mace and yourself end up stashing them away in a nearby entranceway, mentally taking down a note to come back later. Another nod shared with your master is enough to now rejoin the fray. Now free to move with greater intentions than disarm and knockout, you detach the other lightsaber from your hip.

        Your blades dig into the enemy’s hard shell, melting circuits and destroying plating as your trained body carves a line through the figure. The poor B1 droid screams out for a moment before the lights of its eyes flicker off and the limbs go limp. Wrenching the two blades out of the metallic body, you’re able to then leap to the next, and then the next, dodging and weaving around the shower of red all around you.

        But the situation proves to be pretty hopeless and that fact doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. The droids dwindle in numbers and swell back again, while the Jedi can’t come back once they breathe their last. The droids end up coming back in the same numbers as before. 

        You’re surprised you’re even still alive as the battle rages on.

        Eventually, you’re somewhat hidden from the droids behind Mace’s back within a small crowd of Jedi. Gathered together in a clump like this in the middle of this death trap of a fighting ground, you’re basically sitting ducks. You knew this would happen and it did, so all you can do now is trust in your training and hope that you can still say that you’re lucky to be alive after this.

        A bump to your shoulder pulls your attention from the battle and you look up to see Anakin looking down at you with a shaky smile.

“Glad to see you’re alive!” shouts Anakin loudly, probably to beat the cacophony of the battle raging around you so that you can hear him.

“You too!” you answer before noticing his lack of weapon. “Where’s your lightsaber?!”

“It broke!” he answers, this time a little softer. 

        Well, he won’t fare very well without a weapon. Even if he’s the Chosen One.

“Here, you need one! Lengthen the blade!”

        Holding out the shorter of your two lightsabers, you watch as he lifts a hand for you to place the deactivated saber hilt into his palm. His fingers curl around it, tightening for a moment. 

“Any harder and you’ll break it!” you tease before turning back to the droids advancing on the dwindling group. You can hear him chuckling behind you in amusement and you let out a sigh to calm your nerves. “You better return that to me after this is all over!”

“Then I better see you after this, [y/n]!”

        You crack a smile. It’s weird to know that even in tense situations such as this, Anakin’ll find a way to bring a smile to your face.

        With a gaze shifting off of Anakin, and past Mace and someone else’s arm, you see what looks like seemingly endless waves of droids. They creep closer and closer, shooting a hailstorm of red blaster shots towards the group as the Jedi Masters and much older padawans do their best to deflect each shot to protect those at their sides and behind them. It feels so… strange to know that only a small handful of Jedi will survive when Yoda arrives with clone troopers. And being forced to watch as you all get picked off one by one… 

        It really sucks.

        Anxiety floods your body but before it grows any further, you feel a touch to your shoulder. It’s hesitant at first, but then it presses closer, enveloping your shoulder in a weird and uncertain way, as if the owner of the hand doesn’t really know what to do. It’s Anakin who’s glancing down at you with eyes hardening yet warm in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder again, practically sending a message to you through his fingertips and you try to swallow some of your fear, nodding before turning back to the enemy.

        He must have felt your concern. 

        You look around your surroundings, but no ones’ eyes are on you. It seems as though only Anakin felt your concern, which is strange, and you remember that time when you realise that the same could be said about Obi Wan.

        Right. You needed to talk to Mace about that.

        After this, in any case.

        And then you hear a whirring past the noises reverberating throughout the colosseum battle that had become white noise to your senses with how long you’ve been here. It’s a weird kind of whirring, like a machine, and you look up when you realise it’s coming from above you. Lo and behold, a clone gunship is what meets your gaze.

        You breathe out a sigh as a single ship lands, paving the way for a few others to settle on the ground. Just the sight of these ships are enough to reassure you in a way that not even Anakin could and you can see Yoda in all his glory, standing there amongst the other clones. 

        The white armoured men rush out from the ships, charging into the battle while shouting and hollering, holding up their own blasters and overwhelming the many droids surrounding you.

        The Jedi almost immediately disperse with the reinforcements, moving towards the droids that are now caught in a pincer attack and using the increase of numbers to their advantage. You move quickly with the crowd, swinging your lightsaber through metal while dodging attacks that seem to be raining from all directions. Like before, you fill your time with protecting others and yourself. 

        There’s nothing else to do in battle. Not even time to really think.

“He’s getting away!” 

        You look towards the sound of this action to see Anakin rushing to board a clone gunship with Padmé racing by his side. You see two droids readying their blaster to take aim for the ship and Anakin catching sight of this though all too late to really be able to do anything himself. So, you spring into action yourself.

        They need to get out of here, after all.

        You make it to the droids faster than you expected with a leap larger than any you’ve ever managed to pull off, landing on their blasters and dragging them down to the ground below. Before your surprise can waste the opportunity given to you by fate itself, the hand holding your remaining lightsaber slashes out a wide arc that catches both necks.

        Their heads tumble to the ground and you almost do the same as you stumble trying to get off the weird perch quickly losing stability. Once on the ground, you catch a glimpse of Anakin and Obi Wan staring at you from the gunship. 

        It’s lifting off the ground, and with little time to spare, you can only offer a nod and a thumbs up. The two nod their response and then they’re off, leaving you to turn and face the few droids that had made their way over to you. For the third time that day, you jump into the action again, dismantling droids left and right using as many Jedi tricks and such Mace has ever taught you.

        It’s a mindless and seemingly endless endeavor, but to stop isn’t a choice either. With the thought that you need to get out of this alive to fuel you, your strikes become far deadlier with greater precision. If you stopped now, who’ll be the one to help correct this world? Who’ll be the one to bring happiness to those oblivious to their sad fate?

        Today marks the start of the dreaded Clone Wars. If there was a certain time you’d really need to pour all your energy in keeping yourself alive, it’s now until the end of the war. 

        And hopefully, that end will mean no longer needing to worry about seeing tomorrow anymore.

Chapter Text

        You can’t bring yourself to sit around in your room but Mace insisted that you get some rest, especially after what happened. And this is especially after the long funeral procession the Jedi Temple went through for the dead Jedi from the Battle on Geonosis. 

        Only, you don’t feel as tired as Mace probably thinks you are. Sure, you’re physically tired, but your mind is whirling and swirling without any signs of slowing down. Something like that makes it a tad too hard to sleep or get any decent rest. Blinking up at the ceiling, you breathe out a sigh and try to clear your mind.

        Not for meditation, but to simply relax. After all, war is upon you now. You won’t be able to catch any breaks in the next long while until something ends the large scale fight. Or you. After all, death could be considered a break from all the war. Though, the ending you’d definitely prefer would definitely be the one with you ending it.

        Your lips curl downwards and you shift in your spot, eyes still watching the single sheet of colour above you seemingly melt over your eyes. The uneasiness of too many possibilities winds its nasty talons around your heart and you sit up, losing all desire or want to sit around in your room lost in your thoughts. You need to find something to do that could give you rest— just in case Mace catches you somewhere other than your room— and some space from your rather pessimistic mind.

        Nothing specific comes to mind but you start moving anyway.

        Your legs carry you through the room even as your mind wanders in its search for something to do. Your arms instinctively grab your outer robe from the hanger next to the door and your body begins to drift along through the halls.

        The Temple is quiet and even more so than usual. You can sense countless Jedi in their rooms meditating, probably, grieving in their own ways for the lives lost without coming too close to the supposed dark emotion of attachment. You try not to focus on those bodies gently hovering in places hoping to keep to themselves, deciding that it would be best to worry for your own thoughts rather then pry into others for now.

        But even as you make your way through the halls, slowing down your steps so that you cruise along past the grand windows that span the whole wall, your mind still tumbles about. When you pause, letting your eyes wander from the almost dreary sight of the Jedi Temple hall, your robe billows to a standstill and your eyes turn to ever-bustling Coruscant. 

        Dots speed through the air in controlled bursts, following each other closely as lanes upon lanes fill the sky. There seems to be so much energy that seems to fill the void you wish you weren’t surrounded with. You kind of wish you could be that at peace. After all, war is upon you and all that really awaits you are more headaches like this one and bloodshed. Nothing like the sorts of worries a regular person out there driving along would worry about. 

        Or at least, you’d like to think that they aren’t worrying about the same sorts of things you’re worrying about.

        It finally sinks in that you’ve never really known what war truly is, and seeing how technologically advanced this place is, the war here is quite insane. You’ve already dealt with nearly infinite waves of droids and you’re sure that worse is waiting for you.

        What a mess you’ve gotten yourself into indeed.

“[Y/n]!”

        You turn from the window at the sound of your name being called just in time to see Anakin holding his hand in the air as if to try and reach out to grab your attention. It’s a surprise to see so much energy these days, but perhaps it’s actually good for him to retain such energy after what had happened. 

        Still, considering the fact that he’s already returned your lightsaber, you wonder what he needs from you.

        As he approaches, you notice the distinct way his chest seems to be rising and falling much more than usual. His lips are parted just enough for short breaths to come out in puffs as if he’d been working a lot harder to get to you than what you saw.

“You look like you’ve been jogging for a while,” you comment as he nears you, watching him slow to a halt. “Did you need something? You could’ve comm’d me if it was important,” you suggest with a small smile.

        But his lips don’t move and he stares on at you with a straight and blank expression. 

        There’s clearly something wrong, but without an emotion to read from, you’re just as lost as if you had no supernatural way to read someone. You feel your own smile fall and worry begins to veil your mind again, but this time due to something other than the dreadful idea of war. If you'd done something to anger the man, you wouldn’t know. You’re barely done anything for the entirety of the day but toss and turn within the confines of your room.

“We need to…” Anakin’s voice trails off and he lifts a hand to the back of his neck. His eyes flit off of yours, darting to the other side of the hall, and you watch patiently as he gathers his thoughts.

        It’s a long and rather uncomfortable silence before Anakin finally returns his eyes on you, lowering his hand from his exposed neck. He wears a tired expression and his eyes no longer have the shine they normally do when you see them. Even if you can’t read his exact emotions of what could be creating the strange expression on his, it’s clear that there’s a lot weighing on his mind.

        You can vaguely recall an expression similar to this one from when Anakin had been younger. In those days when Anakin felt more distant with the Jedi within his supposed new home, he was burdened with thoughts of the depressing sort quite often. There were countless times where you did your best to try and cheer the young boy up. After all, it’s not like you don’t know how it feels to be disconnected from the other younglings around you. Though your situation was different than Anakin’s it didn’t erase the fact that you had trouble relating with others just as he did.

        Perhaps that’s why it seemed a little easier to put yourself in the young padawan’s shoes. Obi Wan probably wouldn’t have liked to know that you spoiled the boy with so much emotional help, but it’s not like something he doesn’t know will hurt him. After all, Mace did ask you to support Obi Wan in this endeavor of raising the supposed Chosen One. If providing unsolicited and hidden support would make Obi Wan’s job easier, it was something you would do without hesitation.

“Talk,” Anakin declares and it takes a moment to realise that he had found the word to finish his previously unfinished sentence. “I want to speak to you about something. Can we go somewhere more private? The Gardens, maybe?”

“Sure,” you answer before giving him a small yet strained smile, “whatever you need.”

        There was no reason to reject his wish. Not when he seems so desperate for some help.

        He nods at this and you notice how tense his movements are. Even as he walks, the same could be said about his limbs. On top of that, on the way there, neither of you speak a single word. His mind seems elsewhere, and you being unable to find any words to say that could make him feel better in this instance, you decide to stay quiet. You don't want to risk making his mood worse than it might already be. It would be best, in this case, for him to figure out what he wants to say and what he doesn’t want to say on his own.

        So you let him think, slipping your eyes off the profile of his face and towards the hall in front of you. Once in a while, the two of you would pass by other Jedi or younglings and you would nod your greeting to them, earning one in return before they continued along doing whatever it is that they’re doing.

        No one seems to be outwardly grieving, from what you noticed, but a little dip into the Force and seconds taken to read their mood tells you that there definitely is something weighing on everyone’s minds. There’s no joyful peace to be found anywhere in the Temple today. 

        It was gone yesterday too, and the day before that. 

        It takes a long, suffocating silence, but eventually you make it to the Gardens. Even as you enter, Anakin doesn’t speak until you’re deep within the greenery with a small waterfall rushing rather peacefully next to you. Here, if one spoke in voices low enough, no one should hear the contents of your conversation from anywhere in the Garden lest they be next to you. 

        You can only assume that’s why Anakin brought you here specifically— to have a secret conversation between the two of you and no one else.

        But about what? Well, any guess might be as good as correct, really. A quick scan of your surroundings tells you that you are indeed alone in this section of the Temple and that no one is milling about to accidentally walk in on your conversation.

“So, you wanted to talk?” A small nudge in conversation shouldn’t tip his negative emotions— if there are any in that mind of his at the moment— over the edge.

        It shouldn’t, of course, because Anakin is reasonable. He’s just… unable to talk at the moment. What he wants to talk about must be hard for him to put into words, whatever it is. That sort of realisation only serves to make your worry grow.

“Yeah,” is Anakin’s simple answer before he falls silent again.

        Your eyes wander their way up to see a face staring back at you. The depths of his blue eyes swallow you immediately, and you swallow back your unease. You can trust him, you know you can, so there’s no need for you to worry. Besides, if he does have a problem, then he definitely has a reasonable explanation for it.

“It’s about my mother.”

        Your heart practically leaps out of your chest before you feel it skip a beat completely. Or maybe it skips a few because time seems to freeze. It’s as if Anakin had found the one word to utter that makes it difficult for you to breathe. But he doesn’t know what you did, does he? Only Padmé knows and she wouldn’t tell Anakin.

        … 

        Would she? Has she? They were together for quite some time.

“Did something happen?” you ask curiously, hoping to coax the answers you needed from Anakin without arising too much suspicion in yourself. 

        Just in case you need to hide from the truth he might not already know.

        And then Anakin becomes a blur. You barely have time to take in another breath as he rushes forward towards you. Warmth explodes all around you and it only takes a second or two for you to realise that his arms are wrapped around your shoulders and that he’s hugging you very, very tightly. 

        In fact, it almost feels like he’s trying to crush you with how much strength he’s using to hug you. He even has face shoved into the nook between your head and neck but you’re left with confusion.

“—nk you,” is all you catch from his rather furious whisper and you furrow your brows at his display and unintelligible words.

“What—” You shift in his arms but his grip is relentless— “What are you talking about? Anakin? I’m worried, Anakin, what’s wrong?”

        At the very least, this act on his part must mean that there’s nothing bad on his mind. Still, it would be nice to get some context for this.

“My mother,” he breathes out and his voice seems to choke its way out from his throat. 

        You feel his warm breath on your skin and you try to remain calm. It’s your growing desire to know what exactly caused this situation to arise that keeps you from simply falling quiet to just stand there in shock.

“What are you talking about, Anakin? What about your mother?” you continue before he relaxes his grip for just a second. Then, his arms wind around you tightly again and you feel him press his face into your shoulder instead.

“You saved her. You helped her. You did so much for me,” comes his breathless yet strained voice and you breathe out a soft sigh of your own. 

        So he had found out the truth after all. Worming your arms out from their uncomfortable position pressed against Anakin’s body, you mirror his hug with your own arms. Craning your head back, you take in the way his eyes seem to be ready to let loose the waterworks he has held back at any moment.

“Did Padmé tell you?”

        Anakin doesn’t answer verbally but he nods his head. You lift a hand, though slowly at first, to the crown of his head and smooth his locks over with reluctance. The intimate gesture deepens when you feel him sink a little further into your arms, as if he’s relieved that you didn’t push him away. He doesn’t seem to hate your touch either and you allow yourself a single pat upon his head to reassure him a little more that you won’t be rejecting him in his moment of weakness.

“I told her to keep it a secret,” you murmur to yourself, not at all as irritated at Padmé as you make yourself out to be. Frankly, you feel a little happy that the secret’s finally out for Anakin. 

        It’s good that he knows. It’s good that Padmé’s the one who told him. 

“Sorry I never told you.”

“You could’ve,” he mutters, and with his face pressed so deeply into your shoulder, you can’t tell if that’s irritation that you hear in his tone.

“Sorry. I didn’t want to risk the Council realising what I did,” you explain and his hands tighten around you for a moment. “Don’t worry, they don’t know. The only people that know are me, Padmé, your mother, and now you. No one else knows anything about it, at least on Coruscant.”

        Anakin is silent and you feel his hands shift, grazing across your back in a way that causes you to tense up at the action. They stop, thankfully, resting themselves on your back in one spot. His warmth feels nice and the hug feels even nicer, but something about it makes your heart sting. The Force sings around Anakin’s body and you close your eyes at the painful yet nice feeling. 

        Resting your head against his, you hear him breathe out a sigh against the skin of your neck.

“Thank you, [y/n],” he repeats softly and his fingers tighten into your robes. “I don’t know how to repay you. Padmé told me that you paid for my mother’s freedom. I don’t— I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

        There’s a heavy guilt in his voice and the way he sounds with his usual confidence thrown to the wind is enough to break your heart. He’d always been a rather headstrong boy on most occasions that seeing such a weakness feels wrong. Your hands tighten up again and you try to renew that energy in your body for the journey to give him a good future.

“Just saying it is enough, Anakin,” you whisper back softly. It’s not like you wanted to save Shmi because you wanted Anakin to repay you in any materialistic way.

        When Anakin doesn’t answer at first, you wonder if the waterfall had swallowed your words within it’s torrential currents. It’s loud enough to drown out your own voices from anyone nearby so it definitely has the capabilities of drowning your own words from the person you’re trying to talk to.

“I did it for you so you wouldn't have to worry. Just don’t go talking about it to other people, okay? I'll get into a lot of trouble if the Council finds out,” you continue, hoping that if you ramble, Anakin might chime in when he feels ready to.

        Then Anakin mumbles something, but you don’t catch it. This time, the waterfall really does swallow words. The only record of his voice ever creating words is the ghostly touch of his lips tracing the shape of his thoughts that lingers over your skin. The idea of his lips being so close to you snaps you to attention.

        This is dangerous.

        You open your eyes and you’re reminded of the Gardens that you stand within. The waterfall reminds you of the Jedi Temple, and most of all, the fact that you have a goal that you have to achieve. It’s in no way the same as the goals shared by the Jedi themselves, but to a degree you all work for the same thing. Though yours is more personal, the Jedi fear of the universe being at stake is similar to your own plight because to you, the world is almost mostly two certain people you must save.

“Come on, we can’t be seen like this,” you say in a quiet voice and Anakin stirs. 

        For a brief moment you wonder if he even wants to get up and the thought that he might not want to leave your embrace warms your heart. But of course, he moves and the feeling sinks away quickly.

        He stands up again to his full height and you try to force the pain in your mind to fade into the background. His expression tells you that he’s fine and not at all troubled like he was before and the Force that had been singing around his figure quiets down. With renewed vigor evident in his blue eyes, you begin to feel relieved that the conversation resulted in such a positive turn of events.

        That is, until something sharp stings at your heart in a way that you’ve never felt before. It feels distinctly like the Force, you’re quite sure of that at least, but you don’t know what it is or why it happened. Nothing about sudden and fleeting sensation gives you any answer as to what it is, making it all the more concerning. 

        …

        Again with the foreign feelings, perhaps? Did Anakin feel something too? Did you imagine it?

“Thank you, [y/n],” repeats Anakin again and he gives you a smile so tender and soft that it makes you forget about the impending doom that is the Clone Wars completely for a moment.

        …

        Maybe the pain really is from your heart. Or something like that.

“Of course. We’re friends, right?”

        Then comes the same pang again. It definitely feels like the Force and it definitely feels foreign, but is it really? From where else could it be from if not your own person? It’s not like you share your body with any other person. No one should be sending you pain signals from another source. That definitely doesn’t sound like something that exists in this world.

        Then again, it’s not as though you know everything there is to know about the Force. Far from it, actually, especially considering that you’re something of an anomaly and that nearly every single question you had since the beginning remains unanswered.

        Perhaps it’s just that your heart is in a dangerous place. As it always has been.

Chapter Text

        With arms wrapped tightly around the shoulders in his embrace, Anakin can’t help but think back to a time when things were a little different. When his mind swam with uncertainty every step of the way. It all started with one word— one tiny lesson his mother passed to him. 

        Beautiful. 

        He didn't really know what the word beautiful meant when he was younger, but his mother always used it to describe the endless skies stretching into eternity at their fingertips, the stars that dotted the darkness of night watching over them with blinking eyes, and the two suns that razed heat over them in their proud thrones in the sky. He didn't really get it, but when he called his mother just as beautiful as the sky, the stars, and the suns, she laughed in the way that she always did. In a way that could put any music to shame. 

        She thanked him, of course, but all she said was to save those words for when there was someone else he found who rivalled the sky, the stars, and the suns— maybe even triumph over them.

        But what could be more "beautiful" than those three? Anakin certainly didn't know. He couldn't really see what was so special about them. The sky was blue and annoyed him with how free it seemed to be floating above him as if claiming superiority. The stars blinked and glimmered and watched, but they didn't save him from those days when Wattoo got irritated about yet another little thing and stared on as Anakin took the fall for it. And the suns? Hot and boring. 

        He didn't get it.

        But the way his mother seemed to take in a deep breath, sighing with the wind flicking at her hair... something about that seemed to tug at his heart.

        His mother was beautiful. A little worn like the metal parts he needs to work with in the shop, but she was beautiful.

        Right?

        He didn't really know.

        And then someone else appeared. She walked like the sky was at her feet, bowing down to her in a way that seemed natural. Her eyes looked at him and him only, unwavering in its gaze, with a warmth far greater than the cold, unfeeling light of the stars. Her smile made him feel like he was staring at the sun for too long, but to look away from her was harder than looking away from the sun— much harder.

        She overthrew them all in seconds just like his mother had said someone would. That's why he called her an angel. She was full of colour, not just blue; she twinkled with dazzling lights each step she took; she glowed even against the sand that reflected and doubled the intensity of the sun.

        Padmé Amidala was her name. He wouldn't forget it, no. Not when she was so beautiful. His mother never seemed to forget the world that made her go quiet with a smile on her face, and if she never got tired of looking at the new day past their tiny window, then he also didn't think he'd ever get tired of looking at Padmé. If he could, he'd free up the rest of his life to be with Padmé.

        But he was just a slave.

        And then he wasn't. In the blink of an eye, the world that never seemed beautiful at all changed, and a part of him didn't want to leave it. Suddenly, the sky didn't seem so taunting, the stars didn't seem so apathetic, and the sun didn't seem so blinding. He didn't want to go. Not without his mother, at least. 

        Yet, he did, and into a whirlwind of experiences that seemed to have him on his toes the entire time. So much had happened, yet so little at the same time. He wished he could tell his mother about how beautiful the stars were up where the world could rush by without grabbing at his hair.

        He wished hard, but he didn't get his wish. Instead, he was whisked away from Padmé for the Jedi Temple with Obi Wan Kenobi, someone who was really nice to him. At least, much nicer than Wattoo. The old man, Qui Gon Jinn went to sleep. Apparently he’ll be sleeping for a very long time. He knew Obi Wan was sad about it, but Anakin didn't understand why. He loved to sleep, personally, because it meant the day was finally over.

        Still, he didn't ask what was troubling Obi Wan. He never asked his mother why she sometimes sat alone at the dinner table, covering her face with her hands, so he decided not to ask Obi Wan. The air around him felt cold and kind of sad. He looked like he needed the same room he gave his mother on cold nights.

        Instead, he concerned himself with Padmé. What could she be doing? He didn't really know. She was the queen of Naboo. He wasn’t too sure what queens do, but he’s pretty sure they’re extremely important. She spoke like she wasn’t afraid of anything in the world, after all. He missed her just like he missed his mother. He never thought he'd even come to miss the blue sky, the stars, the sun, and an angel so much.

        Especially in a place that didn't seem as warm as Tatooine. Of course, there was nothing wrong with the temperature, and as long as he was with Obi Wan then things felt okay. But with everyone else, things felt wrong. Almost worse than with Wattoo. Almost.

        But not with one certain person. Nothing ever felt wrong with them around.

"Would you like to be friends, Anakin?"

        They weren’t someone who made him feel like the world was parting away like Padmé did. They weren't like the sky, the stars, or the suns like Padmé was. 

        But they were warm. Like Qui Gon, he felt like he could relax whenever they were around. After a while, he learned that it was because their Signature wasn't as trained enough to be like the distant walls around the other Jedi Masters. They were still a padawan, kind of like him only older and not someone like the mean old people he saw in the Council telling him he wasn't enough and too much at the same time. They seemed so serene and calm, just like his mother, and they were welcoming and warm at the same time.

        Just like his mother.

"[Y/n]'s really nice," he'd said one day, not exactly paying attention to the work Obi Wan had meticulously picked out. His said Master— though the word left a weird and sour taste in his mouth— looked up from his datapad and blinked at him.

"Yes," Obi Wan said, and for a tiny split second, Anakin caught the way his lips curled. "[Y/n]'s quite nice, aren’t they?"

        He smiled the same way his mother did when the two of them had the spare time to stare out at the sunset together. Hand in hand under the slipping warmth, the way her lips curled was a memory Anakin would never forget even if it killed him. And there it was, on Obi Wan's face, even though it disappeared much too soon. It almost looked natural to see his face like that, but a part of Anakin's mind told him not to say that.

"The world around us holds many beautiful things, Ani, you just have to find them," his mother would always say, and even though he didn't exactly understand, he nodded each time.

        After seeing Padmé, an angel from somewhere where his wish must’ve drifted to, and a sight that was more than just sand, sand, and more sand, he was certain that "beautiful" was indeed found in the most unexpected of times and places. 

"Master?" he asked after seeing that smile on Obi Wan's face dip away out of existence.

"Yes, Anakin?"

"Do you think [y/n]'s beautiful?"

        Obi Wan almost dropped his datapad and Anakin saw the pink dusting Obi Wan's face, but didn't really get why. Was he too warm? He didn't think so. The library was always at a good temperature. Maybe he was sick? He wasn't coughing or anything, and Obi Wan was a responsible person. If he was sick, Anakin was certain Obi Wan would be sprinting to the Halls of Healing to quell any and all symptoms before they could have any chances of getting worse immediately. 

        A cough from Obi Wan told him that maybe he really was getting sick. Still, he wasn't in a rush to the Halls of Healing. Maybe he had something in his throat. 

"Y-yes, I would consider [y/n] beautiful," Obi Wan said rather unsteadily, and for the first time since their relationship of Master-Padawan began, he didn't meet Anakin's eyes when he spoke.

        That was weird, but Anakin didn't ask about that.

"What about Padmé?"

"Padmé Amidala? Well, she's beautiful as well," he said, but the weird pink and the unsteadiness was gone. Something about his words didn’t seem as… well, Obi Wan didn’t say it the same way as his earlier words about [y/n]. 

        So was [y/n] a different "beautiful" than Padmé? He didn't know. He didn't think they were "beautiful" like Padmé. They were more... 

        He couldn't describe it, but being with them was like those days where the day passed too quickly to feel sad about anything. Days where he could sit with his mother and admire the faraway world from his own contained one. Sometimes, being with them was like sitting in that Naboo starfighter with R2 again, soaring through space again like he was never just a slave boy named Anakin Skywalker. Their presence made him feel like he was a bit more and that feeling was nice.

        Maybe he just didn't understand what "beautiful" meant or maybe he didn't get the right one that his mother understood. Maybe he'll one day understand what it means in the same way his mother and Obi Wan understand it to be, but he's not super sure.

        He thought that maybe the answer had come when, in a brief flash of something he saw [y/n] in a way he’d never seen them before. Cloaked within the Force even more so than he could ever be even as the Chosen One, standing in a place across from him where it was only the two of them. He’d been meditating— or trying to— when his concentration was forced towards another direction and his eyes suddenly staring at a world far from anything he’s ever seen before.

        And there they were. Ethereal was one way to describe the sight he saw, but it was in no way helpful for answers. Instinctively, he considered this sight of [y/n] beautiful, but why he thought that, he didn’t know. Perhaps it was the Force guiding his thought, but he didn’t know. The word just came to him naturally. 

        And when they approached him in this strange world, placing a hand onto his chest, he wondered if this was even [y/n] at all. The warmth from their hand told him yes. It was, but it was strange. He’d never thought things would seem so right for them to look like this in his eyes. 

        Was [y/n] always like this? Did their touch always make him think of home? Of the sky, the stars, the suns buried within the coarse grains of his memories? He wished he could put these questions to rest. He wished he could understand why is it that whenever he tried to think of the sky, the stars, and the sun, the face that appeared in his mind ceased to be Padmé at some point.

        When did that happen? He wasn't so sure. 

        He was sure that maybe, just maybe, the answer to why he considered the sky, the stars, and the sun all mixed together to be [y/n]'s gentle warmth and voice would come to him one day.

        For now, he was satisfied with the fact that yes, [y/n] was beautiful in a way he couldn't really understand. Just like when he was still a young boy stuck on Tatooine with too many things way out of his reach to ponder in his free time.

        The answers would surely come to him eventually. Obi Wan always said so, so it must be true. All Anakin needed to do was wait. And wait he did because [y/n] wasn't going anywhere either. They’d stay by his side like Obi Wan would, helping him whenever he needed another hand.

        To him, [y/n] was like the faraway memories of the sky, the stars, and the suns of Tatooine, only, but they were also within his reach. The dusty and sandy planet that used to be home wasn’t close at all.

        Anakin could wait until all the answers came to him. 

        What “beautiful” really meant. 

        What Padmé was to him now. 

        What [y/n] meant to him. 

        A part of him knew he could find these answers and that same part spurred him to try to wait for the right time to come. 

        And so he waited. He waited for so many years that eventually, the only faces he could call upon when thinking of the Temple as home were Obi Wan’s gentle and joyful smile full of pride for him and [y/n]’s warmth and unconditional support. 

        Where Obi Wan wasn't, [y/n] was. Always. Though, he’d always sought out one or the other. To fill his days with those two was always a conscious decision on his part.

        In those passing years, some answers were found while others still remained dormant somewhere. No matter how often he tried to meditate on these thoughts, something Obi Wan said might help as it did for him, no answers came from the Force. He spent many sleepless nights pondering it all. 

        Even when the day came to see Padmé again, accompanied by many feelings of anxiety and giddy excitement— a day he knew many things would be sorted out for him— more questions just kept springing up in the back of his mind.

        Padmé had grown more beautiful than he could ever imagine, but the only person he could think of was [y/n]. Even with the opportunity to travel to Naboo where he would keep watch over Padmé under the guise of bodyguard protection, something in his mind told him that something was wrong.

        Wrong with him? Wrong with Padmé? He didn’t know. 

        He caught the glances tossed his way from the woman, and how much he wanted to be able to return those faraway glances was so much more than he could bear. He could barely put them into words in his own mind. He wanted desperately to be able to conjure Padmé’s face with as much ease as he could with others. In fact, he could even imagine Mace’s scowling frown more easily than Padmé’s dazzling smile.

        Did it have something to do with the fact that, in the corner of these moments he could recall Mace's face in, he could always count on [y/n] to be there? Half the time, when he saw [y/n] in the halls, they were with their Master working on whatever it was they were working on, after all.

        Something was wrong. 

“Padmé?”

        She’d requested to go into the idyllic fields of the grasslands surrounding the Lake Country, mostly as a way to pull away from the world of the bustling city, responsibilities, and the general feeling of entrapment. Anakin watched her guide him along a markerless path before inviting him into a spot that seemed to call for her to sit even though there was no indication of such in the Force or otherwise.

        Anakin couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be led around by something that wasn’t the Force. By the heart, he supposed.

“Yes, Anakin?”

        He chose not to ask her when she stopped using his childhood nickname with him. He abandoned the inquisition completely when he realised that not even [y/n] had ever called him “Ani.” Even Obi Wan sometimes called him that when his mind warped under the tumultuous waves of the Force too strong for a child’s mind to manage much less comprehend. Why hadn’t [y/n] ever taken it upon themself to call him that?

        The way they said Obi Wan’s name, though not different in any form, seemed different compared to the way they said Mace’s name or anyone else’s name. Yet another thing he didn’t understand.

“What does it mean to be beautiful?”

        Obi Wan gave him half answers whenever he managed the confidence to ask, but his explanation was similar to his mother’s: something you never got tired of looking at and something that could be found anywhere with eyes opened and willing in search of beauty.

        He couldn’t find it in the little things like Obi Wan mentioned. He barely could find it anywhere in the “everywhere” they claimed beauty to be in. 

“I think it means different things for different people,” Padmé had answered as vaguely as all the rest and Anakin wondered if this was how politicians normally talk. Riddles and puzzles that led to more questions than answers. Kind of like the other Jedi.

        This wasn’t helpful in the slightest. That meant he needed to change it up a bit. Try and worm the answers out from her. This time, with someone as kind as Padmé, he’d get his answers. 

“What does it mean for you?” he pushed further.

“I suppose it’s something that makes me feel happy to have been alive to see,” she said, absentmindedly running her fingers through the long grass. “Something I want to protect so that others can see too. Beauty isn’t eternal, but there are some that I wish were.”

        There was a longingness in her voice, but Anakin needed to dip his sense into the Force to sense it. When had such a distance grown between the two of them? Was it due to the many years apart? He wasn’t sure but neither did it seem to be a major concern for him for some strange reason. 

        Padmé had looked to him and asked him the same question he couldn’t answer. 

“What does beautiful mean to you, Anakin?”

        Anakin did not know, but she took his silence as his answer, it seemed. She continued with eyes cast off towards the horizon as if an answer could be found there. It wasn’t, not for Anakin at least. His answers could not be found in either the Force nor the horizon. 

“Is there someone in your heart, Anakin?”

        There was sadness there, but it was slight. It was yet another thing Anakin didn’t understand and more to fill his plate with. 

        He figured he could at least satiate this one question in need of answering. “Is there someone in yours?”

“No, I don’t suppose there is. Not at the moment at least. Not now.”

        There was a faraway grief in the way she conducted herself. He’d seen it before, this much is obvious to him. He’d seen such a distance in many people at the Temple. To separate oneself from sadness was a Jedi teaching, but for Padmé to do it so easily was beyond him. After all, he wasn’t very good at separating himself from the turbulent waves inside his heart, and he knew that. He heard it constantly from people like Obi Wan and the ever so judgy Mace. 

        At the very least, [y/n] never seemed to push him to surmount these irresistible urges to follow his emotions. They seemed happy to know he was trying.

“Emotions are a part of being human. Above all things, Anakin, even as the Chosen One, you’ve got a mind and a heart,” they said to him once as a quick comment that passed almost too quickly for his young mind. He managed to catch it, of course, since he always made sure to pay attention to [y/n]’s words, and they remained embedded in his mind.

        And now here, Padmé smiled. It was sad, he could tell, but she smiled. Like the few he’d seen on [y/n]’s face whenever he tried asking about where they were from, they held a deep shadow of pain not yet healed completely.

        Yet, already he could see Padmé’s healing. Slowly but surely, the Force that swirled around the woman already seemed to be gathering up the loose ends and recovering. When he called upon [y/n]’s Signature, something a pair could only do if they shared as deep of a Bond as they did— which was something he was happy to brag about— he caught a hint of it far, far away. 

        How Anakin could do this, he didn’t know, but he sure kept it a secret away from everyone else. To know that only he could feel them so intimately like this made his heart skip in a way that was almost addicting. He knows he’s been able to sense the minute changes in their Signature and heart since he asked them to connect with him again, just like that moment when he saw them in the surreal world, but that was the extent of it. He didn’t dare to ask anyone about it, so not even Obi Wan heard a thing about this. He wasn’t too sure if [y/n] knew either, but if they weren’t then telling them might end up ruining it all. So, he stayed quiet.

        When his senses managed to reach their Signature, it felt the same as the many years he’s felt it for. Frayed and hurt and only partially healed. There was a hint of a grieving period that had not yet ended and may never end, considering the state of it.

        And to feel their pain felt as acute as his own, his mood plummeted from the initial high of simple curiosity back into the reality of his incapability to find answers within himself. He remembered the image of the criss-crossing green lines of the grass bending beneath him. 

“How do I know if someone’s in my heart, Padmé?” he asked, beginning with an innocent and light tone, only for it to manifest into something heavier with the weight of his mind. "What does it mean to think of someone as beautiful? What does beautiful even mean? How can I find the answers? What am I not understanding?”

        All of these feelings inside of him hurt, especially the ones he couldn’t name. There were just so many of them that he felt as though he would burst. Being the Chosen One with so many midichlorians in him wasn’t always a good thing. He’d already known that from since his early padawan days when his untrained mind felt as though it would shatter under the weight of it all.

        And now, he felt like he wanted to cry. He felt like he just wanted to run into [y/n] and share his troubles with them, working with them through these terrible feelings welling up in his heart.

“Oh, Anakin,” Padmé had cooed to him, sounding more heartbroken than the Force around her relayed. He remembered her warm hand on his shoulder and how the only person he could think of was [y/n].

        It was only ever [y/n] these days. 

        He didn't have anyone else to ask about this. He didn’t have anyone to turn to. Obi Wan would never condone such feelings, he knew that for certain, and Padmé seemed to be at a loss on her own. Not to mention, she was healing something he didn’t want to interfere with, whatever that might be. [Y/n] was the topic of his almost nauseating thoughts, so he couldn’t ask them no matter how many times they assured him that they’d be a willing ear.

        And when his thoughts turned to someone who could help him. His thoughts were yet again swarmed.

        His mother… His mother. He’d been so preoccupied with his conflict between Padmé and [y/n] that he’d almost forgotten his mother’s suffering back on Tatooine.

        “Almost” seemed like an understatement to how terrible he actually felt with such a disappointment to his mother’s memories. 

“I need to see my mother,” he’d said with a voice strained and cracking. He was crumbling under the weight of it all and he craved to be hugged and whispered to by his mother again. “I need— I want to see my mother.”

“Anakin, are you sure—”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he managed, fully aware that a trip to Tatooine would mean going against his assignment to remain on Naboo where it would be safe for Padmé. He scrambled onto his feet fueled by the remorse of almost having forgotten about her. “I need to go to Tatooine. I have to go back.”

        He’d made a motion to start walking, turning back to look to Padmé with eyes conveying far more than his shaky voice could ever. He couldn’t leave her here all alone without Jedi protection. Like this, staring up at him with hopelessness in her eyes, Padmé looked too small to be left on her own even if Anakin knew she could handle herself. 

“Padmé, you have to come with me,” he said, barely holding back the desperate plea rising from his throat to at least keep some of his Jedi serenity. “I have to see my mother on Tatooine but I can’t leave you here alone.”

“Anakin—” she said, gathering her dress from the pool of fabric atop the grass— “Anakin, hold on!”

“No, Padmé! I can’t 'hold on!'” he shouted back, and when she shrunk away slightly, he instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

        His “I’m so sorry”s continued until his voice could no longer sustain the shape of his apologies, ringing out true to the world that was watching him. He felt so lost and so gone that all he could think of was the immediate relief he’d get from his mother. He wanted to be free of all this pain, be able to understand why his heart squeezed in his chest, and why his mind couldn’t create a coherent thought.

        He was just a huge mess and he wished he wasn’t. 

“Anakin?” Padmé called from somewhere near him and he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He didn’t know when he’d crumbled back to the ground into a tight ball. “Anakin, your mother is fine.”

        He could only feel bitter betrayal from such a faraway promise. He’d heard it often before whenever he asked Obi Wan during the early days of his padawanship. After consistently getting answers like that, he learned not to ask anymore. Maybe that was why he forgot so easily. It was easier to try and focus on his training than to worry about his faraway mother. It kept all the stares he received to a minimum whenever other Jedi sensed his worry, at the very least. But there was no way his mother was fine on Tatooine where she was forced to be a slave until her dying days. There was no fine in any of that. 

        Yet Padmé would never lie to him. No matter what Obi Wan said about politicians being untrustworthy, Padmé was good. Almost too good for this world so broken in Anakin’s eyes. 

“How do you know?” he asked her, cringing slightly when his own voice sounded weaker than it ever had in his entire life.

        When he looked up from the ground to see a blurry image of Padmé that only cleared when he felt her fingers running along a gentle course underneath and over his eyes, she gave a soft smile.

“Because I saw her last week, Anakin,” she said, almost too softly for it to have been a statement but a whisper instead. “We had tea and we talked for hours. She’s here, Anakin, she has been for a very long time. She’s safe.”

        That was when he swore the world was crashing onto him. But in a good way, of course. He couldn’t believe his ears nor Padmé for a moment.

“What?”

“I was told to keep this a secret, but…” Padmé flashed him a tightlipped smile. “I’m sure [y/n] would forgive me.”

        [Y/n]. There their name was again. Always haunting him in ways that sent his stomach dancing and his mind swirling. What had they done for him? What did they do?

“What’s going on? Why does this have anything to do with [y/n]?”

        Padmé looked almost too unsure to answer, but it didn’t need any further questioning from Anakin to get her to explain.

“[Y/n] went to save your mother from slavery a few years ago. They told me that they left with a claim that the Force led them to seek me out here on Naboo.”

        Anakin remembered that day. The day they left on an independent mission like the others they’d embarked on before, but this one had been no less worrying to him. He sensed an uncertainty in them the day they left, one that he’s never sensed before whenever they had to leave. Something was off about that one but how could he have known they were lying to everyone about everything?

        They’d lied to him and Obi Wan and that much made him angrier than he’d ever felt before, but the cost of lying meant his mother had been well these past few years.

        How was he supposed to feel about all of this?

“Why didn’t they tell me?” The question was more meant for his unfocused brain than Padmé.

        But she answered because she had the answers he didn’t. “They were worried the Council might find out. They knew you would find out one day. [Y/n]’s quite wise and knowing, so they must’ve known you were going to look for your mother one day. I think they knew that I would get the chance to tell you.”

        "Instead of telling me themself," Anakin had thought to himself sourly. But he regretted it soon after the thought passed. [Y/n] had lied, but it protected them from the eyes of the Council. In a way, being unable to tie their name to such a justice done for him must’ve been harrowing for them as well. 

“I’ve hid her from you for long enough,” Padmé said, and he felt her hands taking his from the grassy ground below them. “You deserve to see her. I can only say that she’s safe, but I know that you want to see her safe.”

        She led him back down the hills and the grassy earth to the not-so-little Lake Country home where she arranged for a ride to be ready in seconds and the trip underway within an hour. He was the embodiment of excitement with legs bouncing with energy in his seat. It felt like he was going home— not home as in the Jedi Temple, but home-home in the form of his mother.

        All that while, all he could feel towards [y/n] was gratitude. No more of that stinging betrayal, but thankfulness because his mother had been well and it was all thanks to them. 

        And when he dashed through the halls with Padmé following closely behind within the family home he’d never seen before, directives from Padmé of where to go were all that he could hear past the blood rushing into his pounding ears.

        He was so close that it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on much else. 

        He didn’t mean to slam the door open and end up scaring the woman standing out in the garden previously with a tranquil smile on her face. He didn’t mean to sprint to the older woman and almost tackle her to the ground. He didn’t mean to almost crush the woman in his tight hug.

        He just missed his mother that much.

“Anakin, oh, my dear Anakin,” his mother whispered in the way that made his legs go weak beneath him. All of the Jedi composure drilled into his body disappeared in that moment and his mother followed suit, but he felt nothing of the impact at his knees. All he felt was his mother’s familiar embrace and something warm yet cold running down his face.

        He missed this. All of this. How his mother pressed down his hair in smooth strokes. How she whispered words into his ears as naturally as the wind does. How everything in the world seemed to finally calm down around him. Nothing mattered now that he could see his mother so well dressed in clothing that made her seem as incredible as he believed she was and living a life he knew she deserved. 

        He wanted to pause his life right then and there and remain like that forever. He never wanted to leave his mother’s arms again now that he was able to feel her warmth again. 

        But just like before, life tore him away from his mother’s touch and everything good suddenly turned to everything bad. 

        It started with a distress call that was delivered to him late due to his preoccupation with his mother. After all, he was supposed to be in the Lake Country, not Padmé’s family home. Then that led to a poor decision on his part to try and rescue his Master from Geonosis, partially incurred by the adrenaline of seeing his mother still coursing through his veins.

        And suddenly, right before everything was about to begin with his first steps on Geonosis, a hand holding something out to him stopped him.

“This,” Padmé had said in that moment, “has someone else to go to.”

        The beads of the japor ivory necklace clicked in the silence. It looked well taken care of without a single worn edge and that’s what made Anakin want to say no. He made it for her, after all. For his angel who seemingly saved him from the sandy planet so long ago.

        Even if there was someone in his mind who shone brighter than Padmé did, the person he had in mind while making that necklace was the one who was most special to him after his mother at that moment. It was Padmé’s through and through— his special person of that time.

        But she wouldn’t have his silence. She took his hand within hers, placing the necklace into his palm with more strength than he thought she had.

“You should give this to them, the one in your heart right now.”

        He couldn’t find the words to say no, so without any means of rejecting her idea, he nodded. He felt a little bad about it, but the idea of giving something like this to [y/n] wasn’t terrible either. In fact, it made him a little lighter, like he could float away.

        And then what came after all of that? A battle of Jedi versus Geonosians before droids showed up in swarms.

        Sure, Anakin prided himself in his saber techniques and his great physical abilities, but even something like this pushed everything a little too far over the edge of what he was comfortable with.

        And seeing [y/n] after all that’s happened to him was… surreal.

        It’s true that he still felt a little angry with them for having kept him in the dark about his own mother, but seeing them like this, ducking and weaving through the crowd of droids with sabers drifting through the chaos, he can’t help but lose all of his troubles.

        They looked truly beautiful. In that moment, they seemed to truly embody the beauty he’d seen within them in that strange vision they shared. He was certain they deserved such a title in the same sort of awe Obi Wan referred to them with. 

“Here,” they’d said to him, handing over their saber after they met in the middle of such a messy turn of events.

        Actually, he was the one who inched himself closer to them. They seemed more preoccupied with keeping themself and those around them alive and he didn’t blame them. 

        “A Jedi’s lightsaber is their life, Anakin,” Obi Wan had always mentioned to him, and it was that thought that cycled through his mind.

        He did his best to stay cool, accepting the offer of— technically— their life being handed to him as easily as breathing. With their saber in hand, he felt stronger than before. With them nearby, he felt like he could take on the world with as much confidence that Padmé always seemed to have. He felt a sense of completion falling over him in facing danger now that the warmth of their presence was within reach again.

        Even when the battle seemed to tilt their mind into something more negative, all Anakin felt was reassurance. They helped him feel at ease so he helped them. It was only right to share his suddenly found confidence with the one who’d given it to him. At least, it felt right to. 

        And the battle persisted. He admits to the fact that he can’t remember all parts of it seeing as they all seemed to be like a blur to him, but he does remember staring at the end of a blaster aimed at the gunship he’d boarded with Obi Wan and Padmé on the spur of the moment with adrenaline pumping. How two droids threatened their chances of catching up with Dooku and putting an end to it all. 

        He remembered, in those few seconds, how effortless it looked for [y/n] to cut them down. The very sight of it sent his heart tumbling down a steep slope and all he could do was stare as they watched them be lifted off and carried away. At the very least, he saw their thumbs up and determined eyes practically begging him to remain safe.

        He feared, for quite a long time that maybe leaving them to fight with the other Jedi in the colosseum might not be the best idea. He was scared that when he returned from defeating Dooku, they’d be dead.

        That he would never find the answers he felt he was so close to getting.

        So when Padmé was jostled out of the ship, he felt more alarm then ever before. In Padmé’s kind support to him, he saw [y/n], and in seeing Padmé collapse onto the sandy dunes, he saw [y/n]’s fall. He needed Padmé around for the things he couldn’t go to Obi Wan or [y/n] for. He needed that support her warm hand gave. Obi Wan forbade him from dropping down and checking on Padmé, but to know that one of the clone troopers could do that for him was reassuring at least. 

        He could only hope that the [y/n] back in the terrible fight they’d just left would be okay. More than okay, actually. He wanted them to be alive and well. 

        By the end, the complete opposite of what he expected of the future happened. Dooku defeated Obi Wan and himself easily and avoided Yoda’s attempts at capturing him. [Y/n] wasn’t dead after the battle in the colosseum, and judging by the tired expression they wore while standing with Mace facilitating the gathering of their dead numbers when he returned to receive medical aid, he could see that they were okay. 

        And that was enough to keep him calm despite the fact that he’d lost an arm. His mother won’t be happy about this fact, but that was okay. Everything was okay. He was glad to know that at least Obi Wan hadn’t sustained anything as bad as his after such a disastrous run in with Dooku.

        The idea of having a part of him more droid than human bothered most of the Order. Their Chosen One had sustained too grievous of wounds to allow for anything less than a cybernetic limb. Anakin didn’t mind too much but the perception of everyone else’s opinion bled in his. 

        But [y/n]?

        It was passing and too brief an interaction to amount to much, but it meant the world to him. They’d been one of the last to receive treatment for some simple cuts and bruises, and in seeing them within the Halls of Healing, they seemed to be in a rush to head off. They seemed to politely blow off all conversations that tried to pull them in, claiming that they had a meeting with Mace to begin, and repeatedly tried to speed off.

        Only when their eyes caught sight of his own did their need to rush off waver and they slipped over to him quickly. They said no words at first, eyes only wandering down to his hand sporting exposed wiring and circuitry. He wanted to hide it from them because he felt ashamed he had failed against Dooku and even lost an arm in the process, but they moved first. He couldn’t feel through this arm in the same way his old hand could anymore, but artificial nerve receptors relayed sensations of pressure and general touch. He couldn’t feel the warmth of the fingers slipping around his larger and now metallic palm, but he did feel the way their grip tightened just slightly.

“Don’t push yourself. Be sure to rest,” was all they had time to say before they slipped away with a smile and their cloak billowing behind them.

        They were so much that there was no way he could ever explain them with words alone. Not that words could ever do them justice anyway. In stark comparison with the other Jedi Masters and such, [y/n] concerned themself with matters of him, not the Chosen One.

        It made him feel all tingly with some feeling he couldn’t really describe. 

        Which leads to what precedes the present. Arms around the one who’d give him so much happiness without ever asking for anything in return and his face buried into their shoulder. His arms had their body pulled into his chest so deeply that the prospect of them not being able to breathe actually passed through his mind.

        But still, he persisted. There were too many things in his mind and body he also had to deal with that made this tight hug the least craziest thing he could’ve chosen to do.

“Thank you, [y/n],” he murmured, unable to find anything else to say. His hands shift, dragging fingers over the curve of their back. He felt them stiffen in his arms, but nothing of a warning willing for him to cease his actions seemed to seep out from them.

        The anger at them for their secrecy melted away. The sound of the waterfall drowned the incessant nature of his mind enough for him to feel more in the present than ever before. Holding onto them like this felt so much more natural and nicer than anything else. It could probably beat hugging his mother. 

“I don’t— I… I don’t know how to thank you.” He wished he knew. He wished he could give them anything they wanted to make them as happy as he was in that tiny microcosm of a moment. He wanted to share these feelings of pure joy with them, but didn’t know how without just simply opening his mind to them and letting them seep into his.

        But doing something like that might end up exposing much more than he could bear to let them know, at least in that moment, so he bit the temptation back. 

“Just saying it is enough.”

        This is when it’s as if the world seems to fill with colour in his eyes. The present feels so alive in his perspective and he shuts his eyes to try and remind himself that this is the world [y/n]’s kindness allowed him to have. The gratitude welling up inside of him was calling for words he didn’t have the capabilities of comprehending.

        But he was able to vocalize them. At least, he could for some of it all. The culmination of everything. The truth came to him in the form of the world exploding with colour, dragging behind it the answer he had been searching for all this time. 

        [Y/n] is truly more beautiful than anyone could give them credit for. Obi Wan, probably also having known how stunningly kind [y/n]’s heart was for those around them, must’ve known all this time how truly beautiful [y/n] was, and like him had been unable to really put such knowledge into words.

“You’re beautiful,” comes his soft whisper, “I think I love you.” 

        But the waterfall drowned out the words to the point where even he couldn’t hear them. They couldn’t have heard it, and when he detects no change in their Signature, he’s relieved yet vexed by that fact.

“We’re friends, right?”

        Their words hurt him, as if a piece of shrapnel was shoved into his chest, but he tries not to show it. They were friends now, yes, but he’ll change that. [Y/n] was going to be there with him forever. He could stand waiting a few more days, or weeks, or maybe months just being their friend— or close friend, actually. He’ll have time to tell them. Maybe once things have calmed down and he no longer feels the hints of worry and concern plaguing their Signature, he can surprise them with his feelings.

        Someday soon, he’ll tell them.

        Anakin can wait because they’ll be there waiting for him like they always have.

Chapter Text

        The Jedi Code is a finicky thing and Obi Wan knows that.

        A Jedi is to form no attachment, yet remain open and vulnerable to the world around them. To love all with compassion, but not love one life too much as possession can possess even the strongest of hearts.

        From the experience of having Qui Gon as his master, perhaps one of the biggest lessons he learned was that life cannot be ruled by word-for-word guidelines, as he was prone to do as a young adolescent. Life was to be governed by the present. After all, a Jedi with no flexibility and ability to reform their judgement based on the world around them was no good Jedi. The heart can be a place of answers one seeks, perhaps, but it is in the Force where many if not all answers can be found.

        This was the slight distinction that Obi Wan had come to dislike somewhat.

        He didn’t know when it happened, but it happened. 

        Love.

        Now, he wasn’t so versed in the details of such a thing, but Quinlan had always gossiped about things like this. Things like romance, attachment, and other Code-banished ideas. As a child, Obi Wan vowed to be the greatest Jedi of all Jedi, which meant he couldn’t concern his mind with things like this, and he was close. So close.

        At some point, something changed. Again, he asked himself, when did this happen? When did he choose to ignore such a crucial part of the Code he's dedicated his life into following? No answers could be found. Not even in the Force. He definitely couldn't have asked Qui Gon, and if he was dumb enough to ask Quinlan, then he'd be digging his own grave. There was one he could’ve gone to, but they were the same object— or person— of his thoughts. 

        [Y/n], the young and up-and-coming Jedi who threw the entire Order into a muted fervour. 

        It started as an innocent arrangement of tutelage. He didn't mind instructing them, he truly didn't, and their strange ways didn't bother him whatsoever. He thought they were interesting. At least, far more mystifying than anyone else he knew. They were different, that much he was certain of, and the more time he spent with them, the more he saw someone else sitting before him in the Library. They were more than their exterior of a child, but he tried not to make mention of that at all. He didn't want to overload the poor child with more rumours and words that filled the halls, after all. They definitely had to deal with enough of that already. 

        They were... Truth to be told, they were exactly the sort of person he wanted to be. Someone hard working, knowledgeable, and wise enough to even garner the attention of his own master. Qui Gon didn't exactly have model master behaviour, but he was his master and a Jedi Master. He cultivated respect even if people didn't show it all the time, and from what he saw between [y/n] and Qui Gon, he knew they were leagues ahead of him even though they couldn't read or write Basic.

        Their mind was like a deep reservoir of things Obi Wan didn't have, and that bothered him. He was jealous, he knew that, but he never said it aloud. How could he? [Y/n] was tasked to be taught by him, and here he was, jealous over their quickly blossoming abilities.

        He disliked that part of him severely. He had been an unwanted youngling and he sorely needed to produce results to show his worth. He desperately wanted to feel like the Jedi he wanted to become. He wanted to be like [y/n]. He didn’t want to say he was desperate, but he sure wanted to pull ahead. 

        He was older than them too. He just didn’t have the time to simply hope he’ll improve. Obi Wan knew that there was nothing beneficial in being caught up with immaterial hopes and wishes. To compare himself to another and think the worse of his own abilities was detrimental and not the least bit self improving. Still, knowing this didn't stop him from being concerned about himself and his progress. [Y/n] was improving everyday while he was stagnant. 

        He was lacking and that fact hurt quite a bit.

        When Qui Gon notified him of cutting [y/n]'s tutelage short, he was devastated, actually. He wanted to help [y/n] become the best they could be, though maybe that was because he himself couldn't see their potential in him. His final lesson with them was difficult because of that fact, but their spirit was as regular if not more confident as usual.

        Even so, he was haunted by his weakness and everything else that came with being Obi Wan Kenobi, the youngling no one wanted as a padawan. The one who could've been sent to the Agricorps on some faraway planet. He had nothing against the Agricrops members, but he wanted to be a Jedi through and through. 

        So his days were hard on his mind. It didn't help that his padawanship started rocky, seeing as their ways of doing things were almost two opposite ends of a spectrum of Jedi conduct. Obi Wan respected Qui Gon, but some days he couldn't understand how and why he did things and still have everything work out. He couldn’t do it the same way his Master could. Was it some sort of lesson he needed to learn. Was it some ability he had yet to unlock?

        Will [y/n] surge this far in abilities by the time he sees them again yet again?

        He couldn't stop putting himself beneath them. He wishes he could, at the very least, find a place as their equal in his mind.

        So when he returned with more free time than time to shower, change robes, and head out for another mission after reporting to the Council and writing said reports, he sought [y/n] out. They'd become quite the wonder of the Temple, often seen alone or working until they could probably pass out from it all. They never did, or at least he never heard of such news. 

        To a lot of awed padawans and younglings alike, [y/n] was the model to follow. Perhaps not their overworking habits, but their hard working ones. To the other Masters and senior Knights, [y/n] was an inspiration and the face of the possibility for the next generation of Jedi to become the most well trained yet. Everyone seemed to follow in their shadow, seeking to become as incredible as they were.

        Again, he felt the distance between them crack open much more than he liked. It all felt harrowing to him. He knew he wasn’t losing to them, as this was never a competition to begin with, but he couldn’t help but feel that way.

        They were even chosen by Mace Windu to become a padawan. He wanted to feel happy for them. He really did. He desperately wanted to reconcile the conflicts in his heart and mind, so he attempted at exactly that when he finally found them. 

“I may not have gotten a master when I did. I wanted to thank you but I never found the chance to until now.”

        Obi Wan knew he was slipping and he couldn’t figure how to continue holding on.

“Forgive me for such a tardy thank-you.”

        There were so many emotions in him. All of it seemed to swirl and gather at once. Normally, he’d keep them reined in with a careful eye, but with [y/n], things felt different. During their instructor-student days and even now after a long time of not seeing each other, they still maintained the gentleness he remembers being there in their eyes, hidden like buried treasure. Everytime he looked into them, he wanted to let things go. The control he normally had over his heart and the accursed feelings of anger and irritation wavered.

“You really are something special, [y/n].”

        And that was what came out. Anger and irritation hidden behind words halfheartedly veiled with kindness.

        Obi Wan didn’t mean it. At least, he didn’t mean for it to come out like that. He meant the meaning behind the words about how they were so entirely special that no one could compare. How they were like a faraway star for him to chase after. He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it was that bitterness that shone through.

        Yet, [y/n] didn’t drift away from him after such a scathing remark. They couldn’t believe in their abilities as being superior to any other, thinking of themself as inferior compared to those around them. Could it be true that maybe he was overreacting in thinking [y/n] was so much better than him? No, he was certain that was not the case. [Y/n] was truly as incredible as he thinks. He knows he isn’t terrible at being a judge of character and ability. 

        At least he’s pretty sure.

        But to know that the rumoured perfect youngling and soon-to-be Padawan known as [y/n] [l/n] wasn’t all that perfect after all soothed him. If someone like them can have faults, he thought to himself that night, then so can I. And like them, he would just need to work hard to overcome the hurdles set before him. He’ll get better and better until he can stand next to them and feel at ease with enough pride for himself and [y/n]. 

        He’ll simply have to break free from the shell he had been: that little boy no one wanted. Then he’ll be happy. He’ll feel better with standing near [y/n]. He’ll be able to feel the rightness of thinking of [y/n] not as a faraway dream, but as a rival he could compare himself to in order to find motivation for self-improvement. No matter what, Obi Wan was going to be a great Padawan and a great Jedi because with someone like [y/n] near him, how could he fail their presence with his lack of attempt?

        So he promised to devote himself to it all to become as close to the incredibleness that was [y/n]. But, he didn’t think that things would change so drastically, so soon, and in such a way.

        Hands holding onto one of the few flimsi he’d received from [y/n], his eyes narrowed as he stared at the words written here. He couldn’t discern them himself by heart, but by comparing the letters to the letters already written to form his name.

        I _o_e yo_.

        Obi Wan could only discern those few, and to be frank, the very first thought that struck his mind almost sent the paper fluttering to the ground.

        [Y/n] was just a young child with an exceptionally older maturity. Could they have fallen in—

        He didn’t finish that thought. Instead, he shoved the flimsi far into the back of the one drawer in his room before taking in deep breaths to calm himself. This wasn’t something he should know about [y/n]. Whatever they’re going through, he had no reason to pry or theorise like someone preparing to spread rumours.

        But the thought came and went constantly when he wasn’t policing his thoughts. The not-so perfect [y/n] was turning out to be even less perfect with each passing month as he slowly learned more about them. There was something they were hiding from the rest of them, but what that was, he didn’t know. Did he want to know? He wasn’t sure.

        He could barely think over the other feelings churning in his heart. Why did he feel slightly hurt knowing that the [y/n] who only ever seemed to smile brightly around him had their heart wrapped around the idea of someone else? They were allowed to have friends, of course, and Obi Wan saw them in the presence of people their age when they weren’t alone. It never bothered him to see them with others. 

        But they trusted him in many things they didn’t even trust their own master with. Things like their strange Force abilities that seemed to mutate and grow every passing day. They spoke to him like he was their confidante, and something about being held so closely within their inner circle made it hard to not think about [y/n] sometimes. 

        Quinlan even had the audacity to ask Obi Wan if, along with the pubertal changes they were all going through, some pretty other had ever caught his eye. To think that Quinlan had the gall to implant yet another fear in his mind made him even more concerned about where his heart was going. What if he were developing feelings? Were they even real feelings? What were these feelings to begin with?

        To go to his master for advice was a bad idea. If this strange feeling was indeed any form of love, it would lead him down the path of attachments and that was bad, period. He couldn’t let himself become attached to [y/n]. Not when they were both Jedi and aspiring to become someone greater.

        Obi Wan needed to make sure of his feelings so that he could figure out a way to will them out of existence. He couldn’t be feeling such things towards someone he thought of as a close friend and them to him.

        And the test arose out of nowhere as if the Force was lending him a hand. A test in the form of the young Duchess of Mandalore named Satine Kryze. The mission entailed protecting her from the aggressive forces seeking to bring back the regime of violence to Mandalore— something Satine had been loudly against.

        Now, Satine was beautiful and Obi Wan had no trouble admitting to such. He was definitely blown a little speechless the first time he met the blonde teen about his age, and the more he spent time with her in their desperate survival mission that would last for Force knows how long, he started enjoying the parts of her that made her stand out from the girls he’d met before.

        Yet, no matter what… no matter how Satine seemed to bewitch his mind, it was only momentarily. Obi Wan could only ever think of his conflicting feelings of [y/n]. With that realisation, everything came back at full force all at once in the middle of such a situation. Though, he knew he should have at least been a little thankful that Qui Gon hadn’t once come to him with a question about why his mind seemed to be whirling during every waking hour of the day.

“Are you alright?”

        Even on the days when the violence seemed to still for some small moments of peace, Obi Wan was still just as battered and bruised by his mind. Qui Gon had chalked it all up to the mental strain of their situation, insisting that he get some rest and leave the overnight watch to him instead of splitting it in half as they normally did. His protocol-following desires led to a small disagreement that led to Qui Gon’s defeat.

        And at that moment, Satine appeared with her golden hair shimmering under the light of the moon. She looked much more rugged than the Satine he first met weeks ago, but she retained some of her graceful beauty. If she were out there in the middle of the night, Obi Wan was certain his Master was inside the small cave sleeping to regain his energy. The older man snored, after all, and Obi Wan knew for certain that Satine didn’t enjoy the sound.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

“You’re lying.”

        Satine was trained from a young age to watch those she was speaking to with a careful gaze and a mind ready to tear their words apart. She was to be a politician, after all. To think that he could be read so easily made his blood run cold. Were all politicians like this? He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to find out the answer to that question either.

        But there were just so many things on his mind to solve. So many that not even meditating for hours could help. With his Master sleeping soundly, something he could feel in the Force that bound him to his Master, he felt at ease with knowing that what was exchanged between them would remain between them.

“Satine, have you ever fallen in love before?”

        It was his attempt at hiding one of his desperate questions behind the guise of an innocent and casual conversation. 

“I believe you told me that Jedi weren’t allowed to fall in love, Padawan Kenobi.”

        He hadn’t said that. “No, I believe I said that the Jedi aren’t allowed to become attached.”

“Is that not the same?”

        That was the truth that he didn’t want to hear, at least not at that moment. A part of him reminded him that he knew the answer to all of that and that he was just setting himself up for disaster by asking about it. He wished he was in a dream so that he could wake up and be the right sort of Jedi he wanted to be again.

“Obi Wan, to love is natural."

“Yes, but as natural as the feeling may be, they are forbidden for a Jedi.”

        He still remembers the frown on Satine’s face. How they covered her face with more shadows than the forest floor could ever hold. She definitely didn’t like what he said.

“Being a Jedi must be quite the endeavor, then.” She had turned away from him, allowing the displeasure to drain from her features as she shifted her gaze to the moon. “To be asked to love all things equally, yet when you find the one you wish to give yourself to, you cannot.”

        To have put it that way, yes, the Jedi Code was looking less and less savoury in his eyes by the second. Did love entail wanting to give everything to the one of your affections? He didn’t have much to give someone like [y/n], who already seemed to have quite a lot compared to the little he had. Even if he did have something to give them, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. 

        What he wanted was to be with them and to stand as their equal. He wanted to maintain the relationship they had when it was just the two of them in the Library. That’s what he wanted. To be the one next to them where the two of them could support each other in places where neither could do anything on their own. 

        So maybe Obi Wan wasn’t in love. 

        And he convinced himself of that. That he wasn’t in love with [y/n] and that maybe it was just something else confusing him and making things harder for him. He remembered hearing from one med droid that as his mind developed, transitioning from adolescence to adulthood, his emotions would be harder to control and understand. Once his thinking mind became more developed, he’d surely be able to understand such feelings.

        That was all he could do and what that was all about— something to grow out of. He was certain, but even certainty can erode with time. 

        And everything seemed to be chipping away at it slowly but surely. Starting with the moment it seemed like every sense within his body was pulling him towards them. Words in a rhythm though hesitant whispered of a place he couldn’t imagine but knew existed. It was as if the Force sang alongside the little bit of their voice striking through the darkness.

        He’d never heard anything like it. In fact, he didn’t even know anyone shared his same enthusiasm for something more than the rhythm exercises younglings always had to go through. Something about it called him even closer to them.

        And he let himself be strung along to the one the Force seemed to be guiding him towards.

        Even when they struggled with their powers and a poorly made decision, he didn’t hesitate in taking their hand within his own when they seemed to be desperate in finding something to hold onto. Their eyes shone strangely in this state, but as incredible as it seemed, he sensed their fear beneath it all. He wasn’t surprised his hand made it to [y/n]’s even before Mace’s. It felt natural to be there for them like that.

“It’s alright, [y/n],” he promised them that day, hoping that he was going to be able to bring the comfort they needed at that moment. “You’ll be alright.”

        He told himself that he wasn’t in love. He wanted to help them by being the one to take their hand whenever they needed one. He wanted to be the one to reassure them that everything was fine. That their powers, their progress, their everything wasn’t as bad as they feared.

        He steeled his mind to this. He’s always been good at shielding his mind from prying eyes and working to let go of those unwanted feelings, but the Force worked in mysterious ways. Suddenly, yet another test had thrown itself into his path to make him question the very foundations his weakened heart had to support itself upon.

        He’d fallen on top of [y/n] before, especially during spars and the like, so being pressed against them like this shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it actually did. Yet, something about all of this made his heart skip a beat.

“I don’t mean to say I’m uncomfortable— I’m not, at least not a lot— but are you sure you’re comfortable?”

        He felt his control unwind completely with just those few words. How could they simply say that? Did they not have someone else in their mind already? To be so close to him like this, did it not bother them in the slightest like it bothered him? He needed to rethink his defenses. He needed to reorganize his brain again to understand the world around him again.

"Is there something specific bothering you?”

        There was. There was so much bothering him, but he couldn’t tell them. No, he couldn’t. He had to find out who [y/n] was to him on his own. He couldn’t depend on their watchful gaze to find the answers hidden in the depths of his heart. All he could do was continue watching their figure constantly in front of his, leading him along, for answers. Even as they threw themself into a risk he wouldn’t have minded doing himself, they placed themself in front of him as if they found more reason to protect him than let him protect them.

        When had they grown taller? When had they gotten bolder? When had their heart gotten stronger than he could ever comprehend?

        When had these feelings grown when he had them locked away for so long?

        Having their shivering body curled up within his arms, these were the only thoughts racing through his mind. Holding them close only seemed to help them a little bit with their troubles. Was this the extent of his help now? When did they slip out of his grasp again?

“I’m sorry. If only I were more capable,” were the words that had slipped out. Then they wouldn’t need to be the one throwing themself forward. He could do that in their place. They barely stirred and he figured they must’ve not heard. That was fine.

        He heard it, this promise of his. Obi Wan wanted to do more for them and that was what he’d do.

        But to give his effort for them… Was this the same as giving something of his to them? Satine’s words haunted the borders of his dreams and mind as if they were foretelling a future in which he’d end up giving up a piece of the Code he regarded so highly. Couldn’t he have both?

        … 

        No, he couldn’t, and for the sake of their futures as Jedi, he could let these feelings go into the Force where all other dangerous emotions went. Though letting them go would hurt, his heart would heal and he was sure of it. Even though he still couldn’t feel certain about the right label to these feelings, he could afford letting them go. And Obi Wan tried. Saying his “thank you”s and “goodbye”s to [y/n] before his mission to Naboo would’ve worked well enough as a proxy to saying his “thank you”s and “goodbye”s to the feelings that have kept him company all these years. 

        But he couldn’t do it in the end. He had hesitated after so easily thinking he could do it and that fact worried him.

        They were right to assure him that he’d have time after. He’d just have to tell them after the mission ended.

        But “after” seemed so far away. A trip to Naboo and a detour to Tatooine stood in his way. He did his best to be patient, he really did, but even when he arrived to see [y/n] again, shirking his responsibilities to the Council with his master in an attempt to calm his mind, he couldn’t find the time or energy to say what he wanted to say. He was just so happy to be back at home and be able to see them after such a tumultuous time. More so, he was happy to be at home where [y/n] was. When had he begun thinking of [y/n] as a home different than the home the Jedi Temple was?

        After all, leaving their side for his mission again sure felt like needing to leave home once more.

        …

        Yet another question to add to the ever growing pile.

“You’ve had quite a lot on your mind this past while, my Padawan,” Qui Gon’s voice rumbled at some point during the mission. He believed this was during the few moments of peace they had together before arriving in Naboo again. 

        He didn’t want to make it seem like Qui Gon read his thoughts like he was an open book, but he did. An obvious flinch coursed through his body and he felt his spirit shrink. It was inevitable that Qui Gon would eventually catch on.

“Yes, I…” he said, but he was unable to continue. What could he say? How would he start? If he confessed to the crime his heart had committed, wouldn’t [y/n] be dragged down with him?

        He couldn’t do that to them.

“I think if I manage to find some time to meditate, I’ll be fine,” he assured quickly. He needed to protect [y/n] from the weakness of his own heart. It wasn’t their fault he’d failed the Code.

        Despite the glint in Qui Gon’s eyes and the way he watched him walk alongside him with a careful and almost knowing air, the older man said nothing. He seemed to accept Obi Wan's hastily crafted lie. At least, for that moment.

        And that’s what scared Obi Wan the most, but if Qui Gon was hoping to speak more on the topic, the chance never came. The next time they had a breather to say anything unrelated to the mission at hand, Obi Wan had just slipped into the Dark Side of the Force for a split second, his master was on the floor just barely holding on, and a blockade battle was raging above their heads over the atmosphere of Naboo. Qui Gon seemed to only have a few seconds left of words to say to him, and once they had been said, Obi Wan felt his head spin.

        Was this the result of his mistakes?

        He peered down at the face staring up at him with serenity muddled with pain. It took all his strength not to break down right there and then. Just seeing Qui Gon’s expression made every desperate thought and wish that maybe all of this was a dream— another fruitless hope. There was sweat dripping from his forehead and Obi Wan felt his grip tighten around his weakening body.

“I’m sorry,” were the only words Obi Wan could say. 

        Sorry for being weak. Sorry for not following the Code. Sorry for letting his anger get the better of him even if it was for a split second and even if it helped him win. 

        He was sorry for not being strong like [y/n] always seemed to be.

“There is nothing for you to apologize for,” wheezed out Qui Gon. A shuddering breath made the older man’s body quiver in Obi Wan’s hands and it broke his heart.

        There was nothing he could do either.

“I’m sorry.”

        He couldn’t help it.

        For a split second, he swore his master had gone still. He watched with lips tightening into a fine line as his master’s eyes closed and his breathing slowed. He was losing a bit of him more and more with each passing second. Yet, before anything could be done, he sensed something inside the Signature of his master’s. A distinct and barely there feeling of…

        [Y/n].

        Despite having sat there for a few minutes dumbfounded and bewildered, his master was still breathing and barely holding on. He didn’t seem to be dying, at least not yet. Obi Wan didn’t find himself questioning it at all in the end. He knew that if [y/n] was around doing something across the galaxy, then everything would be okay. Gathering himself again and rubbing away the tears that had started to gather, he plucked his master’s saber from the ground and began hauling his master off the floor as best he could. Not even the Force’s assistance made up for the lack of strength needed to completely lift his master. He needed to half drag him out of the facility.

        But it was fine. His master was still alive and that’s what he focused his mind on.

        And he managed. Just like all other times, he managed. He wished— and still wishes— he could do rather than manage, but he had to satisfy himself with any sort of doing at that point. He had to try to at least convince himself that yes, the choices he made and the actions he took were the right ones. If he couldn’t, who would?

        [Y/n] would, but they… The Code wasn’t the most important thing in their life. Not in the same way it was for Obi Wan.

“I care about you Obi Wan, and nothing’s going to change that. Not even the Code.”

        The way his heart had quivered in response to those words told him that maybe his grasp on the Code also had already slipped away completely at some point in his life along with the grip he had on his own heart. Their touch was comforting in a way he could not put into words. The warmth that stretched out from their body into his brought forth a fluttering sort of peace into existence within his battered mind. No matter what, it seemed that the remedy for the ailments troubling his mind was always [y/n].

        But something like this was forbidden. Could [y/n] be more like an addiction to him, then? Something he would never find himself able to distance himself from no matter how much his mind told him to? He didn’t know. All he knew was that in that moment, he just wanted to be near them in a way no one else was. 

        So when the transition period came of taking on a padawan despite him only having been without his own padawan braid for less than a week, he felt something more than relief flood through his body when he was told that [y/n] would be there to help him through it all. The simple act of reassuring Mace without raising too much suspicion was hard enough, and to keep himself from too obviously tearing apart the Jedi Temple looking for the one who would be there on his journey of mentoring a padawan believed to be the Chosen One was even harder.

        Obi Wan was definitely guilty of thinking that this was the chance to see what it would be like to raise a child with [y/n]. As strange as it sounded to his own mind, he didn’t… find the idea a bad one. So seeing Anakin close with [y/n] wasn’t anything he found too concerning. After all, they had torn a young boy from his mother and placed him into a world with many firsts for him. 

        That was probably why he couldn’t find the reason or motivation to tear the boy from [y/n]’s side no matter how closely he seemed to be sticking to their figure as the days passed. That and the fact that in the boy who was suddenly placed into a world expecting great things, he saw [y/n]’s young image. Lost and slightly overwhelmed with his new life, he couldn’t help the soft spot that started to blossom in his heart.

        It seemed as though [y/n] was the source of many of his weaknesses, but he tried his best not to show it. 

        He really did.

        And then when more of the puzzle pieces he didn’t want to find appeared in the form of an entire and complete set of numbers, it was all too easy to take his copy of something [y/n] had so willingly given to him to compare to the letters of that note he found himself the owner of so long ago. His eyes glanced between the set he’d gained and the string of letters unknowingly given to him, eyes discerning for reasons less savoury than simple curiosity, noting each of their shapes.

        I lo_e you.

        He didn’t bother double checking which letter that last one was. He already knew for certain what the remaining letter must be. Yet again, he put the paper back into its hiding place and turned away from it. He wanted answers, but the questions were hard to form. Not to mention, his heart had a hard time finding the energy needed to voice his concerns. 

        So he let life carry on around him, watching as Anakin grew older while maintaining a solid grip on [y/n]’s robes. The more steadfast the bond between the two grew, the more anxious he started feeling towards such clinginess. [Y/n] didn’t mind though. They never did. 

        When he began to feel like he was losing [y/n] to Anakin, that was what made something inside him snap. Obi Wan always made sure to be careful and to hide his heart from the world to see, but in a way, [y/n] had become his world. It was becoming increasingly harder to hide his heart from them. Even the act of allowing himself to be the one moving forward for the warmth of their body that he’d missed after such a long time of professional distance was hard. It made his heartbeats quicken and his chest a nest for a flurry of tickling wingtips.

        Obi Wan was falling down a very deep hole and he knew this. He knew this well yet he could not stop his descent into such a madness. He didn’t even know if he wanted to stop.

        Every moment with them left him wanting hours upon hours of their time. Every moment he saw them training, practically dancing across the practice floor this way and that made his heart squeeze a little tighter in his chest. He identified it as pride lined with too much adoration and affection for anyone of his ilk.

        And when he thought that maybe the jealousy streak against Anakin had reached its peak long ago, he found himself a fool to his own expectations. The feeling that rippled through him in thinking— in assuming — that there was more happening between [y/n] and Anakin than there was between himself and [y/n] was like a kick to his gut. He loved Anakin, he truly did, and cared for him as any Master should towards their Padawan, but to think he was losing [y/n] to Anakin hurt just a little bit.

        Or, perhaps a lot.

        When they asked him for help, even after such a blow to his heart, he could not say no. To sit across from them, aiding them in dealing with their evolving powers yet again where others could not or would not, he felt another surge of emotions wash over him. Before he could completely recover his heart, he felt the comfort of their Signature surround him in ways that made him feel more than comfortable. Too comfortable.

        He was glad that their eyes were closed in the first moments of their attempts at playing around with the Force cycling into and out of his body because he was certain he would have died due to shame if they were to have seen the way he shivered when their influence spread to him. How his cheeks managed to grow a sliver too warm for his tastes before he shoved all of these away deep down into his mind where he was certain they would never find them.

        Yet, they did. In letting their touch sink deeper and deeper into his own Signature, an explosion of something entirely new followed. What came after that worried him.

        How his heart, in that moment of weakness in a world governed by almost nothing, called out to them. It reached out in ways that forced his lips to move to shape words he didn’t want to say.

        Those same words written in their writing hidden in his room.

        So he ran away. Cutting off the warmth from them at that moment wasn’t easy because he wanted to stay there, but it worked out and only resulted in [y/n] falling and possibly bruising themself. Not too bad, he figured, but much to close. He felt bad about trading his secret for hurting their back with more bruises, but he couldn’t let something like this slip.

        And the way he could easily pick apart [y/n] from the myriad of Signatures constantly surrounding him made him feel all warm again. They were connected in some way, though in a very small way. His secret would remain safe granted that he didn’t try to connect with them through such a strange Bond ever again or out of his own volition.

        But if he had to say that he didn’t try tapping into the edges of their Signature every so often, then he’d be lying. He liked the way their Signature felt and liked being connected with them.

        He wished desperately from then on for the possibility that maybe he wouldn’t fall deeper than he was already. That maybe some of this would reverse itself over time. Again, he felt like he was getting closer to letting this all go until all too soon, everything crumbled again. He hated how relieved he felt seeing [y/n] cruising through the colosseum on Geonosis with their sabers in hand and how much it really terrified him to be leaving for Dooku instead of staying and watching their back.

        But he pushed back these feelings. For a short moment, at least, just so that he could do his duty. His mind was in constant battle between the forces of believing in [y/n]’s strength and the forces of something wishing for him to be there for [y/n] and them only. 

        Indeed, he wanted to give [y/n] too much of himself.

        Shaking his head as he stands atop the ledge that holds so many memories of the one always in his thoughts, Obi Wan tries to flush out his mind again. Though, starting anew always means to eventually return [y/n]. No matter how far he tries to run from them, the silhouette of them always returns to haunt him in the most breathtaking of ways.

        Obi Wan sighs, lifting a hand to his beard. He can’t help but wonder what Qui Gon would think of all this. What the Council would think. To a lesser extent, he wonders if [y/n] must have gone through the same ordeals. After all, they’ve been in love for a much longer time than he. What would he do when he finds out who the person of their thoughts was? He can’t imagine he’ll feel very happy, but to know would help him move on. Though… maybe something like that can be put off for another day.

        A pang of something sharp splices through the thoughts plaguing his mind and he barely manages to catch the quality of it that tells him that it’s not his own heart in remorse. There aren’t too many people he’s acutely aware of the emotions of, but [y/n]’s one of them— something he learned he could do after letting them venture too deeply into his Signature. His first thought is that maybe it’s [y/n] somewhere feeling sad again about the ghosts roaming in their mind. He knows for certain that Anakin should be with [y/n] at the moment speaking about something or other. If [y/n] was feeling disheartened about something, then Anakin would be around to soothe their heart.

        Obi Wan felt his own heart fall at that thought. It’s not that he doesn’t like the idea of [y/n] being comforted by Anakin. They complement each other in ways he could not complement them, and that’s a fact he learned long ago.

        It’s just that…

        …

        He wishes he felt as confident as Anakin to be so close to [y/n]. With his heart racing at almost every turn whenever they tossed a smile his way, his emotions threatened to overcome his control and spill over. He isn't so certain he could handle being near them for too long. He truly has fallen quite deeply, it seems. Any attempts to hold himself back from wandering off into the halls in search of [y/n] to relieve him of these scrambled thoughts behind walls are crumbling faster than he can maintain his rein on them.

        "Just for today," Obi Wan muses to himself as he strides towards the door, "I’ll let my heart decide today’s course of events." He remembers saying those exact words to himself the day before and the day before that and, unsurprisingly, the day before that, but his legs keep moving forward.

        The heart just simply isn’t something that could be completely bound by the Code. At least not his. Not anymore. As terrible as it is, Obi Wan can’t help but find it slightly funny. To have upheld the Code for so long, yet when all things seems to have gotten so terribly bad for the life he lives now, it suddenly feels so foreign to him. What should he do now that he’s accepted such a turn of events? What will happen now?

        Well, there’s a war to be fought now. Even if the Jedi were pacifists fighting only when necessary, now was necessary. He was hard pressed to remain with the Order to help them through something like this, but that’s what this feels like— “hard pressed to remain” for the war. He can’t hold back all of this forever even though he’s managed so far, and he knows this.

        "Yes," Obi Wan agrees solemnly, "I've managed."

        But for now much longer? He doesn’t know. Could he remain the Jedi he’s always wanted to be, putting the good of all others before [y/n]? He doesn’t know. He wants to think that things will be fine and that he’ll continue to manage for as long as he can. At the very least, he knows that [y/n] would never blame him for this. 

        If they don’t blame him and even find enough room in their heart to accept him along with these feelings, would they follow him if he chose to leave the Order? They cared about him much more than they cared for the Code, after all.

        … 

        No. He doesn’t want to be the reason for [y/n] to choose between their life as a Jedi and a future without the Order. He’ll just have to have faith in himself and figure something out.

        Obi Wan knows he’ll just have to manage for as long as he can for now. He’s quite used to that by now anyway.

Chapter Text

“So, we’re both Knights now,” notes a voice next to you. Glancing over, you see Anakin grinning from ear to ear towards you. He seems ecstatic for the increase in rank and you can’t help but mirror his energy.

        How he can manage this much energy after such an exhaustive set of trials is beyond you, but as usual, his smile is too blinding to say anything like a “no” to. Considering what’s been going on beyond the walls of the temple, the brightness of his character is welcome.

“I am older than you. I feel like I should’ve been Knighted before you,” you remind him, nudging him with an arm.

        Anakin laughs as free spiritedly as he always does. It almost doesn’t seem like the whole war thing has caught up to his mind yet. The wary looking glances Anakin receives from the others who were knighted with you tells you that you’re not the only one worried about the prospect of galactic war. It’s almost like Anakin’s the only one with energy to really celebrate such a tremendous achievement such as Knighthood despite the circumstances.

        And you as well, in a way, through Anakin.

        The entire group continues through the halls for the area you’d meet your old Masters in, but eventually Anakin seems to slow until you’re taken a place at the back of the group. His eyes are looking around, seemingly searching for something beyond whatever you must have in mind, until finally you see Anakin’s body swerve off the path the group had been taking. Your eyes follow him but your legs lag in following after him.

        Perhaps his wandering eyes really were searching for something. Something like a chance to escape, even.

“Anakin, what are you—” you begin, but all he does is turn with a glint in his eyes that definitely means he’s up to no good. 

        He reaches out with a hand, beckoning for you to follow. A few of the other Knights turn at this point and you catch their gazes. There are a few you’re slightly familiar with, so a raised hand and a half bow of your head is enough to tell them not to worry and that you’ll be following along with Anakin’s schemes. Those few seem to return your silent message whereas the others say nothing and turn away as if they want nothing to do with whatever is going on.

        You can’t blame them. It’s quite well known that Anakin’s a bit of an odd one compared to the others and it’s not like you’re too far off from that same reputation.

        Unable to find much reason to stop him, especially considering the fact that you might have to wait quite a while before your Masters come out from whatever ritual or whatever process they have to go through too, you follow behind. He leads you to the side of the hall a bit away from the departing group, glancing over to the Knights walking off as he does.

        Before you can ask him why he’s called you to the side like this, and with such secretive energy too, he begins rummaging through his robes. In seconds, with his back turn to the rest of the hall, you begin to hear the distinctive sound of clinking beads. He retracts his hand from his clothing and holds out a gloved hand, opening his closed grip to reveal a familiar object.

        The japor ivory necklace you swear he should’ve given to Padmé a little while ago. Since that should be the case, why would he have any reason to have it now? You know for certain that he should’ve given it to the woman a long time ago, around the time when he was still pretty young, so that must mean he only recently got it back somehow.

        But why?

“I want you to have this,” he says lowly, inching his hand a little closer towards you.

        … 

        "Me," that inner voice in your head says with growing alarm, "me?!"

“This looks pretty important to you, are you sure you want to give it to me?” is what you manage to ask. In all honesty, your mind is panicking to next week and back at such an offering and it’s a miracle that you managed to get anything out of that mouth of yours.

        But considering this drastic change to the narrative that you were so certain was going smoothly, panic seems like the right sort of emotion to be feeling.

“Shouldn’t you give this to someone important to you?”

        Of course, you bite your tongue back from mentioning Padmé’s name and instead have to hope that maybe he’ll get the clue you’re leaving behind for him.

“I am. I’m doing that right now,” he says stubbornly as if he doesn’t know what’s wrong with what’s coming out of his mouth at the moment. His hand inches it a little closer. “You’re important to me so I want you to have it.”

        This guy… Does he know what he’s doing right now? Unfortunately for you, your heart skips a beat at the sound of those words even though you would much prefer for it to not, leaving you with the only choice of cursing your fate.

        You’re important to him? Then what does that make Padmé?

“For you to remember me when things get busy.”

        You know you should refuse and a part of you wants to refuse, but that other part that wants to accept speaks up about how Anakin doesn’t have too many friends. About how you must be so important, so much so to be given such an important memento, that of course he’s going to want you to keep him close.

        After all, you’re one of the few he can consider as his friend and the same goes for Obi Wan, but Obi Wan wouldn’t accept, much less keep, something like this around, you’d think. The Code forbids materialistic possession as much as it does interpersonal possession. Seeing as Obi Wan holds the Code to a painfully important degree, it makes sense to give the necklace to you rather than him.

        And with the war and all coming up, meaning that you’re both going to be incredibly involved as war generals, no longer will you have time to catch each other between missions and chat peacefully. All the peace of those days are gone now.

        So, despite the fact that it almost feels wrong to, you reach out and take the object that still feels warm against your skin. He must’ve had this on him ever since before the trials began, meaning he must’ve planned for something like this.

        It really is hard to understand what’s going on through that mind of his… 

        Placing it into your robes, you offer the young man a glance. No point in making a huge issue out of this, it seems.

“I’m happy you think so highly of me, then,” is what you say, hoping that your uncertain mind and quivering heart didn’t impact the delivery of your words too much.

        A broad and blinding smile stretches over Anakin’s face and you can see a pink flush spreading over his sun kissed cheeks. It’s nice to know that you can still praise him enough to elicit such a colourful reaction from him despite how much older he is now.

“Also, this” he begins again before holding out the hand he’d been keeping closed this entire time. Glancing down just as he opens his hand, you can see a braid the colour of brown sandy hair resting against his palm.

        Your mind goes blank completely as you lift confused eyes up to his eyes once more. The earlier strong insistence is all gone, it seems, replaced with a bashfulness that would normally accompany giving someone important objects. Under your questioning gaze, you see him clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head.

“I, uh, want you to have this too,” he says, and the confidence that’s usually there in his voice is quelled beneath an almost out of character shyness. “I would’ve given it to Obi Wan, but I don’t think he’d want it.”

        Hold on.

        Doesn’t he mean he’d give it to Padmé? Then again, he can’t be using her name too easily though, obviously, so you know for a fact that he shouldn’t be mentioning her all that much, but… Well, if he’d kept quiet about all of this, you wouldn’t have asked about it either. Like that, he would’ve been in the clear to just give it to Padmé.

        Unless he figured that you would ask? And this is just a smokescreen to hide behind? Or perhaps she thinks it’s a weird Jedi tradition to be cutting hair like this and then offering it to people? It’s not too outlandish and difficult to understand such sentiments.

        If that’s the case, it makes plenty of sense to be stashing these important things with someone else— someone just as close to him as either Obi Wan or Padmé are to him. And if Padmé has already expressed her wishes not to have it and Obi Wan is a danger when it comes to something like their secret relationship, it really only leaves you as a good place to keep something like this. That way, any possible suspicions about secret relationships are squashed before they can take root in anyone else’s mind.

        …

        Right?

        Seems like a bit of a stretch, but… Well, it’s not like you’re an expert on what Padmé or Anakin might be thinking about at any given time.

“Are you sure you want to give it to me, though? Don’t you want to keep it? Becoming a Jedi Knight is a pretty big thing,” you argue carefully. “I know Jedi aren’t supposed to keep things, but something like this doesn’t happen again.”

        That and the fact that he’s already given you the japor necklace. After all, he can always secretly give it to Padmé, can’t he?

“I am,” he tells you. “I’m sure.” 

        So you furrow your brows, finding it hard to accept this from him. After all, this is a little more personal than the necklace. Sure he made the necklace, but this is something that was a part of him for many years. Taking something like this…

“Do you still have yours?”

        You look up from the braid when his voice rings out again and nod. Again, uncertainty passes through his eyes.

“Should we… trade?” he manages to suggest slowly and softly.

        …

        And now to make matters worse… Why does he want to exchange all of a sudden?

“If you aren’t going to take it, I’m not sure what to do with it,” he states with a defeated tone. “I don’t want to throw it out, but…” 

        You can practically feel the colour drain from your face. Shouldn’t he save it for Padmé? Why is he being so difficult? In order to keep it around for the day he’s going to give it to Padmé, it looks like you’ll have to take it from his hands and stash it away safely for him.

“Alright,” you say, holding out the hand with your own braid sitting within towards him. Of course, yours is significantly longer than his due to you starting your padawanship rather early and ending it now many years later.

        The two of you take your newly acquired braids in the silence and a glance up towards Anakin tells you he’s a bit on edge. A good edge, to be more specific. He seems amped up with some unknown energy you can’t quite place or understand. 

        As mysterious as his reaction might be, you know for a fact that you feel a little embarrassed to be in ownership of his braid like this.

        But when he grins again with his hand closing over your braid, you feel your worries and concerns melt away instantly. Your fingers curl around the braid in your hand and a sense of warmth fills your body. This is probably nothing to be too worried about, there's no point in worrying all that much now or in the future. Things will be just fine.

“Come on, we should head back to the others,” Anakin suggests with eyes glancing down the said hall the others had taken. “The Masters will get angry if we’re not around when they arrive.”

        There’s a cheeky tone to his words, but the image that your mind easily conjures up of Mace’s disapproving frown is enough to kick all your positivity to the curb. Perhaps he has nothing to worry about since all he has to deal with is Obi Wan, but you…

“We better get going then,” you say, already starting to make your way down the hall.

        Anakin’s next to you the entire way as you round the corners and dash down large hallways. When you finally make it into a large room where the other Knights are standing in, you see a few turning to look back at you and your arrival.

“You made it just in time,” whispers one you don’t quite have the confidence to put a name to but recognize by face.

“The Masters have just arrived,” whispers another and you offer them a thankful nod.

        It looks like you’ve managed to avoid being lectured today.

        Glancing over the heads of all the others reveals a door that opens heartbeats later. Jedi Masters, or at least the ones who survived that crisis on Geonosis, step out to greet us newly appointed Knights. You know for a fact that a few of the new Knights don’t have a Master who’ll make a beeline towards them, which is why Yoda’s here. To fill in the countless empty places left behind after such a sad battle, he decided to come out personally to speak to those Master-less.

        That’s pretty nice of him.

        Your eyes catch a glimpse of Mace’s head weaving through the crowd, and when his eyes manage to meet yours, you see them narrow slightly.

        Oh no. What could you have possibly done to piss him off this time?

        He approaches, looking down at you with a frown. You can see him glancing up at Anakin, who happily escapes with a greeting directed towards Obi Wan as he scampers off before Mace can start lecturing his ear off.

“Did you run here?” Mace asks with a raised brow and only then do you realise that your breaths are a little too heavy to seem normal.

“Oh, I just fell behind,” you answer quickly, not wanting to hint at the fact that you stayed behind to secretly exchange braids with Anakin.

        At the thought of his hair still in your hand, you lift the bundle and slip it under your robes, feigning the motion of putting your own braid away by covering any bit of it behind your hand. If he noticed the familiar shade of sandy brown as one that belonged to the head of the Temple’s resident troublemaker, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he breathes out a sigh through his nose with eyes softening.

“The circumstances of your Knighting are grim,” he notes and the way his eyes wander the large room makes it clear that he’s technically saying this about everyone, not just you.

        After all, there are plenty of newly appointed Knights many years younger than you. You’re one of the few older Padawans to have been Knighted. 

“The entire situation is pretty bad, but I’m sure things will end fine,” you assure the man and he flickers his eyes down to you. 

“Is that one of your many visions?” he asks with a slightly amused tone and you shake your head.

“I just have a feeling,” you say, fully aware that things will be fine because you’ll be the one making sure they are. “This war won’t last forever. We just have to make sure it ends on as good enough terms as we could possibly get it to be.”

“As usual, I have to agree with you,” Mace says with a lower voice. He seems to study you for a moment before his hand lifts to clasps your shoulder lightly. “It’s a pity you had to be rushed into Knighthood in this way.”

        You can tell he’s basically telling you that you’re not ready, but you do understand his sentiment. There’s a lot to being a Knight rather than a simple Padawan. Being a Knight also means you’re a General now, too. 

“I can always come back to you for guidance, Master Windu,” you reassure the man with a light laugh that seems to be enough to create a small smile stretching over his lips. “It’s not like I’m beyond your help, now that I’m a Knight.”

“I suppose that is true,” Mace agrees easily, “and I will be here when you need my guidance.”

        The smile you all share is enough to send the Force around the area fluttering positively. You try not to let the fact that your Training Bond never flourished dampen the mood even though you managed to forget about it up until now. There’s a small sense of some sort of a Bond between you both, but nothing of the sort that you hear from the other Padawans and their Masters. 

        But perhaps that’s fine. The less you accidentally expose to Mace, the better.

        Something catches Mace’s attention and you turn towards his sudden object of interest to see Obi Wan striding over with Anakin at his side. There’s a broad smile on Obi Wan’s face, which is understandable, but the closer he moves over, the more you can sense something off.

        Is Obi Wan feeling a little sad about something? Maybe it’s the parental feelings of seeing people he’s been watching grow up for all this time finally reach a significant place in their lives. It’s definitely a possibility.

        Whatever the case is, his smile is enough to keep Mace out of the loop as to whatever he’s feeling within his heart and he approaches without any problem. 

“Despite the circumstances of everything, I really am quite proud that you’ve finally been Knighted,” Obi Wan starts, looking towards you with his typical bright eyes. 

        And if you look a little more carefully, you can see a bit of mirth in there.

“You might’ve gotten Knighted before me, but I’m catching up,” you say with a glint of challenge no doubt visible in your eyes. 

        Unlike the smile you shared with Mace, this one is a little more open. All things considered, you are a little closer with Obi Wan than you are with Mace. 

“Jedi Knights,” calls Yoda’s voice and the pleasant atmosphere is cut short. “More we have, to tell you. Your attention, I would like to have.”

        You offer Mace and Obi Wan a nod just before they slip off to the sides of the room. Anakin takes a spot next to you again, seemingly giddy to get all of this over with to start his new life as a Knight. With him next to you, the two of you step closer to the head of the room in order to hear Yoda’s words, whatever they may be. 

——

— 

        The good and peaceful day continues, even into a lengthy conversation with Mace about this and that. You’d just been chatting, really, before you slipped out after managing a conversation that almost lasted two hours. As you rounded a corner for the rooms where you’d be gathering your things to move into a larger room for senior Jedi, your face ends up crashing into a chest covered in beige and tan cloth.

        It's what happens when your mind wanders about your typical worries.

        You’re in the midst of apologizing before a familiar Signature wafts over your senses. Your eyes flicker up to see Obi Wan’s equally surprised expression.

“Sorry, sorry,” you make sure to say, pulling a tad further away from the older man.

“No, I should have been paying attention as well,” Obi Wan assures you, still looking frazzled with the collision.

        Since you’ve still got to start moving your things into your new room, you’re just about to say your goodbyes before— 

“Are you free?” Obi Wan seems to blurt out as if he were racing against time. “At the moment, at least.”

        Strangely enough, he seems skittish.

“Of course,” you say, unable to say no to an implication for a talk or something. “Did you need me for something?”

“I suppose it’s something like that,” he begins and the confidence that accompanied his bursting request is gone.

        You see his blue-grey eyes flicker to you, albeit silently, and all you can do is blink up at him expectantly. You’re not sure if he needed you to talk, or anything, but it’s worth the gamble, and if it’s hard for him to talk about, it must be a difficult subject. Your eyes glance around the hall, noting that there aren’t actually all that many people milling about, before pulling Obi Wan’s robe towards the side.

“Thank you,” he says even though there’s no need for him to.

        Smiling, your hand falls from his robes and you look back up towards his very clearly conflicted expression.

“You look like there’s a lot on your mind,” you note curiously. You can see Obi Wan swallowing rather heavily and he darts his eyes away out the window.

“Yes, I suppose I have quite a lot on my mind,” he says in a way that seems like he’s shamefully confessing to something. 

        You’re reminded of the last time such a tense air gathered above him. How, when we found time to chat about whatever was bothering the both of you, Obi Wan also had quite the draining thoughts and worries weighing on his mind. Like before, he doesn’t seem incredibly ready to let loose the emotions no doubt troubling him.

        Despite that, he looks as though he wants to say something.

“Obi Wan,” you begin softly as if you were afraid he would run. He flickers his eyes to you and you can see that none of his troubles are apparent on his face. “You know, you can talk to me. I won’t judge you for anything.”

        Without saying another word, his lips curl and he simply smiles. It’s clear, like the last time, that a part of him doesn’t want to talk. Has Obi Wan ever been one to speak about his feelings to someone? You’re not too sure, but there’s a part of you that can’t remember a time where he’s openly talked about his feelings with someone.

        Unless there’s an instance unknown to you… 

        He normally would just let it go into the Force and move on, wouldn’t he? So what’s wrong this time? Why didn’t his age-old tactic work? Unless it’s something that’s too big to simply let go.

        The harder you stare at the man seemingly feeling pleasant, the more you get the sense of something wrong behind that smile. When you reach out, not with your hand, but with the Force, you see him flinch. All you’d done was tap at his mental shields just a little bit, but for him to react in such a way… 

“Obi Wan, if something’s bothering you, you shouldn’t bottle it up,” you advise softly, putting a hold on tapping at him again like that. “If it’s something you can’t let go of into the Force, it must be something really troubling. Speaking about it might help?”

        After all, it’s hard to watch Obi Wan suffering.

“Please?” comes your whispering demand void of the strength of any command.

        You can see the stubborn resolve begin to peel away. A portion of his shields seems to allow you access and you feel him drift into your mind. As you two stand there in silence, you catch the heavy feeling of distrust, betrayal, anger, jealousy— just… a lot for one person to be handling. And way more than what a Jedi should be dealing with.

        And then, as if he changed his mind, the walls begin to close up again.

“Wait,” you cut in, reaching out to grab his sleeve before he can shut you out again. As your hand falls from his robes, his eyes soften.

“I’m ashamed of allowing such emotions cloud my mind,” Obi Wan murmurs softly and he lowers his head to you as if to bow in apology. “I’ve tried casting them away, but it hasn’t worked as well as I hoped. The feelings simply return stronger than before.”

        He lets out a sigh and suddenly it looks like he’s wearing more years than normal on his face. Every inch of him looks a little too tired to be standing here in front of you.

“I feel lost and I’m not certain of what to do next,” he whispers, and at this point the negative feelings are beginning to dangerously coat his words. 

        The deeper you dive into the little access he’s given you and you only, it seems, the more you feel the fact that he’s carried this for far too long. It’s painful, almost physically so, to feel it coming off of him. It’s hard to imagine how much agony his mind must be in at this moment.

“I’m sorry,” he says, chuckling rather pitifully. “Today was supposed to be a joyous day for you, but instead you must deal with me in such a state.”

“No, don’t say sorry,” you tell him, reaching out with your actual hands this time. “Being able to help you makes me feel happy.”

        To be of any help to the man is nice.

        His head is still bowed slightly to you and you gently press your palms to his head, resting them against his temples. No jerks and no flinches meet your touch cradling his head. Rather, he sighs as your hands touch his skin and the storm brewing inside of him seems to subside a tad.

“Jedi or not, to feel isn’t a fault,” you reassure the man. “Don’t beat yourself because you’re feeling overwhelmed. Not all of us can be as detached as Master Yoda or the Jedi Masters.”

“But I should be,” Obi Wan argues, glancing up with churning blue-grey eyes. “I’m still lacking as a Jedi.”

“Every Jedi in his Temple is still lacking in some way,” you counter and this seems to stop whatever other self deprecating words Obi Wan has for himself. 

        Still, there’s defeat in his eyes and the way his shoulders slump. Though his feelings are swirling around your senses, you can’t exactly pinpoint or understand what it is that’s bothering him specifically, which makes it hard to find the right words to say. If it’s this bad, it’s a bit concerning to imagine what must be weighing on his mind.

        A strand of his hair falls out of place, and with a careful finger, you brush it back into place. You can see that his eyes are watching your actions carefully, but he does nothing to stop you. All he does is relax into your touch.

“You’re quite close to Anakin,” he blurts out, catching both himself and you by surprise.

        But before you can say anything in response, he pulls himself out of your hands. Standing up straight, you watch with surprise as he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Does that bother you?” you interject quickly before he can attempt pulling away from the conversation completely.

        Could he be troubled by the way his former padawan is so close to another Jedi? It’s hard to really understand why that would be the case though, but it’s not like one can comfortably understand the true depth of Obi Wan’s worries.

        Obi Wan’s lips press into a thin line and he shifts in his spot. His eyes aren’t meeting yours at all until you step a little closer to force yourself into his line of view.

“I…” Obi Wan begins, falling silent again to gather his thoughts. 

        It seems to take a moment of your watchful eyes silently prodding him for an answer.

“Yes. Unfortunately, it does.”

“We’re just friends,” you tell him, hoping that maybe your reassurances of such a fact would come through to him. “He just needs someone to listen to him sometimes.”

“And that cannot be me?” Obi Wan questions rather hotly, clearly bothered by your words. 

        A Master would probably be worried if their padawan is going to someone else for their troubles. Right…?

“You know how Anakin is. He’s a bit more volatile than other Jedi. He didn’t grow up here like you and I so of course he’s going to need a different kind of support than the kind we might need.”

        But your words seem to sour his mood.

“He’s not the only one who needs your support,” Obi Wan mutters, lowering his gaze further as if he didn’t want to be caught being the owner of those words.

“Which is why I said you can come talk to me,” you remind the man with a light chuckle. “Anakin comes to me often to talk through his heart, so that’s why we might seem close.”

        Obi Wan sighs, lifting a hand to card his fingers through his copper hair. It’s difficult to know if your words got through to him, but the little bit of the Force around him tells you he feels a little better. 

“I’m truly sorry for worrying you,” he says, looking more rueful about this than anything else you’ve talked about before.

“Worrying about you isn’t a chore for me to do, Obi Wan. We’re friends,” you offer brightly, “I’ll help you whenever you need me no matter what.”

        He smiles again to finally clear away some of the tense air, but it falls just as easily as it comes. Almost as if he remembered something bitter.

“Anakin told me you exchanged braids,” he mumbles softly.

        … 

        Of course he did.

“He asked to,” you explain curtly. You don’t exactly have anything to go off of beyond that as to why Anakin might’ve wanted to or anything. “He said he would’ve thrown it out since you might not have taken it.”

        The way Obi Wan opens his mouth before promptly closing it with a shake of his head tells you that the man might’ve accepted Anakin’s offering of his braid. You watch as his frown deepens and he shifts again, definitely wanting to say something but finding himself unable. 

“I can tell you want to say something,” you note and he averts his gaze in shame. You reach out again, using the Force to tap at his mental shields. This time, fortunately enough, he doesn’t flinch like you’d thrown a lightsaber at him. “I won’t judge you for whatever might be on your mind. I just don’t want you kicking yourself because of it.”

        Obi Wan maintains the stubborn expression until he finally gives in. “I’d wanted to give you my braid as well, but at the time, I’d been too preoccupied with Anakin to remember.”

        His voice is just above a whisper when he says that and there’s a hint of something that you barely catch. The feeling seems distinctly like a fabricated lie, but there’s the barest hint of a truth to it. If it doesn’t seem completely wrong, that must mean there’s at least a part to it that’s true, whatever part that might be.

        Still, you can’t exactly understand why he’d want to give you his braid or why he still had it all this time unless he truly did want to give it to you all this time. Considering the fact that you already have Anakin’s, you don’t see much reason to say no to his request. If it’ll help him feel a little better, at least.

“Well, I guess today is as good as any other for you to give it to me,” you offer hopefully, wanting to help him get out of this emotional predicament as best you can. “I don't have mine anymore to exchange with yours, so I hope you won’t mind that.”

“Not at all,” Obi Wan assures you with a little too much energy. “I… I would be honoured to give you my braid regardless.”

        You can see his pale cheeks redden a tad and you chuckle softly. 

“What are you blushing for? You’re making me feel a bit awkward about it too,” you warn him amidst your soft laughter.

        You watch his face draw a blank until it melts away too quickly for you to ask about. A vast majority of his nerves seem to disappear and the bit of him you’re exposed to doesn’t seem all that pained to you anymore. It seems lighter, actually, much lighter.

“Thank you, [y/n],” he murmurs softly and he lowers his head down again towards you, "for always having to put up with me.”

“You’re no chore, like I said,” you repeat, watching as he lifts his head with much clearer eyes. “Being able to help and support you makes me happier than anything else.”

        Obi Wan lets a soft chuckle fill the air and for a split second, you notice him lift his hand. However, it doesn’t make it too far before he freezes and lets it fall again. 

“How could I ever repay you, I wonder,” he mumbles just as softly.

        In the spur of the moment, you reach out and take the hand that had been on its way to you, only to abort its mission halfway through. Your fingers curl around his hand, lifting it into the space between you both and you smile up towards Obi Wan as the Force seems to dance around you two.

“Seeing you happy is enough for me,” you tell him and you feel his hand shift so that his much larger hand envelops your own.

“You always have been a selfless one,” Obi Wan says with a hint of a tease. “Never have you asked for much.”

“You’re the same, aren’t you?” His praise of you could very well work for him too.

        The hand holding onto yours lets go and both your hands fall to their respective sides. Despite the warmth that had been before, the smile on Obi Wan’s face seems to become a little less energetic.

“I believe I want too much,” Obi Wan states a little absentmindedly.

        Then, without missing a beat you see him shift a foot towards the hall housing his room.

“Do you have time for a detour to my room?” Obi Wan asks, alluding to the fact that he needs to give you his braid.

“Of course.”

        Tagging along beside him, he wordlessly guides you down the row of doorways and hidden rooms. He’s closed off the little bit he’d allowed you access into, but you can still see that he’s doing alright. Far better than the place he’d been in earlier, at the very least.

        The two of you pass a few Jedi Masters, and as per seniority, you and Obi Wan and pay your respects. It seems not many are overly critical about the fact that you two are together, and that’s nice. It probably has to do with the fact that you’ve always been close. You’re unbothered even as Obi Wan stops at a door and enters through the doorway.

“I’m sure you still need to move out of your old room, so I’ll be sure to be quick,” Obi Wan promises with a glance tossed over his shoulder at you standing at the door. “Unless you wouldn’t mind waiting inside?”

        Perhaps not…?

“If I linger outside, I’m going to make people wonder,” you say, stepping into the room.

        Obi Wan hums, moving along to concern himself with a drawer to the side and your eyes wander the small room. As expected of a Jedi Master like Obi Wan, it’s not cluttered whatsoever. Sporting quite the minimalistic overall appearance, you can see just how Jedi-like Obi Wan really is behind closed doors.

        The only thing you see that’s a little off compared to everything else is the little window. You’re not at the right angle to see too much through it, but the little that’s exposed to you reveals the Coruscanti cityscape.

“More often than not, I’m always finding you staring out into Coruscant,” you hear Obi Wan’s voice say before you turn back to see him approaching you again. His eyes are trained to the window across the room. “I’m not entirely certain what you must find so interesting out there.”

“It looks a bit familiar to home,” is your vague answer. Compared to the rest of the Jedi Temple, despite what are basically glorified flying cars and too-high-to-be-true sorts of buildings and such, it’s enough like home. “Watching the cityscape puts me at ease, in a way.”

“Many other Jedi prefer the sight of rushing water or a quiet room,” Obi Wan notes with an amused chuckle. “I believe you are the only one I’ve met to prefer such a scene.”

        His laugh and the return of such a cheery tone has you beaming despite the questionable compliment.

“Well, we all have our preferences,” is all that you offer.

        You’re sure that if you explained the truth behind it, he’d understand, but there’s no easy way to do that. You can only hope that he’ll accept these awkward answers and treat them as full truths rather than partial ones.

“I suppose I cannot disagree with that,” Obi Wan says with a smile that has a bit of a hidden edge to it. 

        You don’t get much of a chance to investigate why that seems so before he closes the distance between. Holding out a hand from his side, you can see a long braid the colour of Obi Wan’s copper hair. Since you’ve already done this before, it’s easy to reach out and gently pick up the braid from his hand before placing it within your own.

        When you first woke up in this world, you never would’ve expected to receive both Anakin’s and Obi Wan’s padawan braids in one day sometime in the future. Even now, it’s a bit hard to believe. Especially since it’s still not clear why this is happening.

“I’ll be sure to keep this safe then,” you offer with a smile, putting it away in your robes with Anakin’s.

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” Obi Wan agrees softly, using a voice you never really hear him use for any other situation or person except for when he’s with you.

        You can only wonder why that’s the case…

Chapter Text

        Life, for the most part, feels as though it’s barely been dipped into war. The “calm before the storm” fits perfectly here because, although you’re certain that there’s a war raging and that some Jedi Masters have certainly been sent to near and far away places to handle the growing intensity of this sudden war, you haven’t.

        Not yet, at least. 

        All around you, there have been talks. Jedi Masters, Jedi Knights and everything in between will become Generals, leading their own legion of clone troopers as the highest voice of power. Jedi Padawans continue following their Masters, acting as Commanders. By that logic, even you will be entrusted with the responsibilities of war that no one would want. According to a message sent from Shaak Ti a few days prior, you’ll be granted your own legion soon.

        Unfortunately, “soon” is today. Later, today, at least.

        It’s not at all surprising to realise that the feeling rising from within you is fearful anticipation.

“[Y/n],” calls a familiar voice and you turn away from your chat with Obi Wan and Anakin.

        They’d already met their battalions— the 212th and the 501st, respectively. They didn’t seem to mind the shift in responsibilities and though that, in their words, you certainly were “minding it a great deal.” They aren’t wrong, but you could have done a whole lot better without their reassurances of the fact that you would make a fine General because you’re not too sure if what they say is correct. Will you make a fine General? How could you know? You certainly don’t feel ready to have a legion of good people being placed under your command.

        Still, you accept the praise and you do appreciate the fact that their words had lifted your spirits.

“Master Windu,” you greet the man who stops right before you, bowing all the while and barely able to keep yourself from just referring to him as your Master as you’re still apt to do. 

        Habits are hard to break.

“Is there something wrong?” you ask curiously. “Or, do you need something from me?”

“No, there is nothing that I need in particular,” Mace answers all too simply.

        The way the Force swirls just a little out of place tells you something is quite wrong.

“It’s not something you’d expect. It caught me off guard when I heard about it as well,” Mace continues before he lets out a bit of a sigh. “It seems Chancellor Palpatine would like to have a chat with you.”

        You can feel the way something churns out of place within you as well. Keeping a fine control over your emotions and thoughts, you can’t help but wonder what the old man has in store for you. After all, why go for you when the Chosen One is free all afternoon to be plucked out from the safety of the Temple for some un-Jedi-like activities.

        Unless he’s set his sights on you instead of Anakin.

“Did he say why?” you ask before you let the silence stretch on for too long.

“Not exactly. He just wants to speak with you, from what I heard,” Mace answers, sounding as though he truly means it.

        That you raise a brow to. What could make the Chancellor of all people interesting in coming all the way here instead of working on whatever work he has waiting for him in his office?

        It’s quite possible that he views you as an easier target compared to Anakin. He did miss his chance to be a father figure towards Anakin for his childhood considering you were around to give Anakin company and comfort and practically enticed Obi Wan to do the same job he did in the story you’re familiar with and more. It’s also quite possible that he’s trying to get Anakin through you.

        Regardless of his eventual goal, stepping into Anakin’s spot for him would be safer for him. And since you knew the dos and don’ts of the future, you’d be more prepared to handle what’s to come, even if it comes in the shape of such a great evil behind the guise of a kindly old man.

“Do you have any reason why the Chancellor would be interested in you?” Mace asks of you, clearly suspicious of Palpatine’s sudden curiosity towards you as well.

        It may also do you well to sow some suspicion towards Palpatine within the upper echelons of the Council if you can. Maybe.

“I’m not sure,” is your answer. It’s no lie, you truly don’t know why Palpatine would choose to be here for you, of all things. “Perhaps he was reminded of seeing me from that time he visited and wished to chat some more.”

        Mace seems to consider the idea, but it doesn’t look like he really believes it. In fact, it looks like the longer he chews through that idea in his head, the more he dislikes it. 

“It certainly sounds… odd,” Obi Wan comments, earning a nod from Mace. 

        Meanwhile, Anakin seems to be eyeing you with worry. Considering the warning that you’d given to him in the past and the fact that he promised to keep you safe from the very same man you’re to meet now, you wonder if he’ll jump in to offer himself as company.

        You know better than to give him the chance to do anything of the sort.

“In any case, it would be rude to make the Chancellor wait,” you say, looking towards Mace with a smile. “I should see what he needs from me. It could be important.”

        Mace nods, seeing that your logic is sound. “He will be arriving soon. By the time you reach the Entrance, you should be able to see him.”

“I’ll be off, then,” you reassure the man, already shifting a foot towards the direction of the Entrance. 

        You make sure to offer them eyefuls of comfort, especially Anakin who looks so concerned that he’ll throw himself after your strides. Whatever comes at you in this, you know you need to come out with a victory of some sort.

        And hopefully all of this will be over before your scheduled meeting with your clone trooper legion. It would be bad to be late and you’re sure that Shaak Ti will give you an incredible lecture if you happened to be caught out with the Chancellor rather than looking after your pre-wartime duties.

        Certainly, dealing with a war seems far better than dealing with Palpatine right about now... 

        Your mood instantly sours at the thought of this meeting and the inability to discern what this Sith Lord wants from this interaction. It would be great to know for sure if he wants to replace Anakin with you within his nefarious plans, so not knowing makes you feel sorely out of touch with any plans you can make in retaliation. Not to mention, knowing would make you feel a little less terrified.

        Because if the crafty old man catches whiff of anything Dark Side-ish from you, you’ll be setting yourself up for a nasty surprise.

        After some twists and turns and some straight halls, you find yourself at the Entrance you’re not entirely familiar with. After all, your ins and outs take place mostly at the Hangar Bay. The entrance here is mostly for routes into the city, and even then most Jedi just slip out from the hangar.

        But it is there that you see two figures, only one of which is a familiar one. They’re both human and they both look old. Still, you try to maintain as serious and professional a face as you can, preparing for an hour or so that you believe might feel like days. Very, very draining days, you add with deep disappointment.

        And when you step closer to the man, you notice a flinch ripple through the air. A feeling that certainly is familiar, though you’re unable to figure out why before you’re too close to the sudden guests to continue pondering why.

“Chancellor Palpatine,” you greet as innocently as possible, approaching the older man quickly to at least show some respect. You bow once you’re within range. “I’m sorry to have made you wait.”

        The old man smiles just like that last time, waving his hand to reassure you. “Do not worry. I must have troubled you, in fact, to have requested your time when I hear that the Jedi have been busy. Have I intruded on any important business of yours?”

        If you lied and told him that you were in the middle of something, would he give up and leave? Or would he hear the lie for what it is?

“No, but I do have matters to attend to later in the afternoon,” you explain to the man, deciding that the truth will spare you his ire. “I hope that you understand. It’s quite important for me to return here in time.”

“But of course!” Palpatine reassures easily, relinquishing whatever he has in mind to the fact that you have a schedule to follow. “I have come for a simple chat with you, that is all. It is my fault that I’ve found time when you have not, so I must respect your wishes.”

        Perhaps it’s the way he speaks to grandly and nicely that somehow produces a smile on your face. Whatever the feeling may be that’s swirling around your person, Palpatine simply smiles in return.

        Hopefully, he isn’t sensing anything too out of the ordinary from you.

        You watch as Palpatine leans closer to the old human male next to him, speaking to him in low tones. You’re sure he doesn’t mind you hearing because he doesn’t try to hide his words, and so you catch words like “schedule” and “meetings” and “later” without any issue. As your long spanning lessons on discipline and patience dictates, you stand there and wait for the pair to finish speaking.

        When Palpatine’s eyes flicker to you again, you wonder if you should have taken that chance to lie your way out of this.

“Perhaps,” Palpatine begins carefully, “as it seems my schedule permits, I should remain here for our chat. It should also be preferable for you, yes?”

        Well, to be here on Temple Grounds will mean that he won’t be as free to do any Dark Side business.

        So you offer a polite nod. “If you’re able to accommodate me in such a fashion, I would be honoured to speak to you here. Is there a place on the Grounds you wish to speak in particular?”

“Anywhere would be fine for me, [l/n],” he reassures smoothly, beaming quite happily. “Shall I request a recommendation?”

        In then end, you end up taking the two men around the halls. You knew that the sights of these large and almost cavernous hallways should be enough of a pretty architectural sight for a simple chat, as it certainly left you speechless the first while you were here, and because it’s not like it’s the location that Palpatine cared for. 

        No, he was here for you and whatever he had in mind for a chat.

“It is a miracle,” begins Palpatine as you lead the slow walk through the halls you’ve strolled through for a large part of your life now, “that such a place remains at such peace despite the war that threatens the galaxy.”

        You take in the sight of his frown, nodding solemnly in response.

“It is no simple rumour, then,” he continues, “that the Jedi are quite the composed group. Any others so close to such a conflict… Why, I don’t believe they would be able to function so well.”

“It wouldn’t do well to be troubled, Chancellor,” is what you say to the man, wondering what he’s getting himself into by commenting on that. “A Jedi must remain calm even if no one else does.”

“And I see that you have also been raised well with such a mindset. Strong and reliable,” Palpatine praises.

        Ah, the silver tongue that must have ensnared Anakin when he had been young and impressionable.

“Thank you,” you say. “But the praise should be directed to my Master. I would have never become the Knight I am today if not for his teachings.”

“Yes, Jedi Master Mace Windu, correct?” Palpatine wonders aloud, seeing your nod and accepting it as a response. “A fine Jedi, truly. I have had the opportunity to speak to him a few times over the years. He speaks nothing but praise of you.”

        You nod to that.

“As does Jedi Knight Obi Wan Kenobi, I’ve heard.”

        You nod to that as well, but a bit more slowly.

        Palpatine smiles. “You have many seniors who speak so positively of your skills. You must be proud of yourself to have come this far!”

“I have much more to learn. I don’t believe I am very ready to consider myself proud of my skills yet,” you say meekly at such blatant show of praise. Even compared to the praise you usually get from Anakin and Obi Wan, this sort of complimenting is… a lot.

        And dangerous. You can already tell as much.

        Palpatine hums, eyes flickering to the windows before he guides the path to the direction of a spot that overlooks a portion of Coruscant. You follow along at his side, ignoring the silent presence that is the man who’s tagged along behind Palpatine during your trip.

“You must forgive me for not having much to speak of during such a chat,” is what Palpatine confesses to you after a moment. “The inevitability of such a large war… I must say that it troubles even me.”

“War troubles even the calmest of minds,” you offer simply. “Even the Jedi are worried.”

“And that is why I find myself at ease. The Jedi will be a great ally to have during such turbulent times,” Palpatine says, turning his gaze to the busy lanes far from the Temple Grounds. “I simply trust that with you, the galaxy will find peace once more.”

        You contemplate his words, flipping them over in your mind. “We will do our best to find peace once again, Chancellor. That you can be assured of with the Jedi’s help.”

“To hear such determination easily chases away my worries,” Palpatine tells you, voice practically dripping with something sweet like honey. He chuckles at something that seems to come to mind. “Master Windu had been right when he spoke of your impressive character. Your will is quite moving.”

“Thank you,” is all you can really say.

“Yes, with you, I do believe that the war may end soon,” Palpatine says almost wistfully, “perhaps.”

        It’s strange to hear these words. You’re sure that he’s trying to manipulate you with these comments and statements, but you’re not entirely sure of what he’s trying to twist in front of you. It still doesn’t help to not know if he’s still aiming for Anakin either.

        Something overcomes your senses again. A familiar feeling.

        Cold yet hot. Freezing and searing.

        Bad.

“We all wish for this war to end soon,” you say with a nod.

“Yes,” Palpatine says in agreement, but you catch a little something hidden within the cracks of that single word, “and perhaps it will be you who brings forth such a promising dream.”

        Palpatine doesn’t linger around on the Grounds for very long after that. With a single whisper that sounded like, “Chancellor, we must head back,” from the other old man, you’re requested to accompany him to the Entrance again. All the while, he asks you quite pleasant things about your time here and your training and all sorts of things a curious anyone would ask of a Jedi who’s lived and breathed this kind of world for a majority of their life.

        When you see his figure flying away on a speeder towards his somewhat closeby office, you’re left with a terribly uneasy swirl within you. His intentions are as hard to read as one might expect, but you’re quite sure that he didn’t manage to read into your own suspicions towards him. At least, not the really deep rooted ones that would rather see him trampled by a Zillo Beast any day. Probably just the sort reserved for strangers.

        If he wishes to tempt you into the shadows like he did with Anakin, he’ll have to try very hard and very quickly since he clearly doesn’t have as much time as he did with Anakin. A small voice in your head wonders if he might actually succeed with you like he did with Anakin.

        …

“Ah, good day, Knight [l/n].”

“Good day, Knight [l/n].”

        A pair of voices you don’t recognize pulls you from your thoughts. You turn to see two young kids— padawan, considering their braids— and you offer a smile to the two who seem so at awe at the sight of you.

        They’re just young faces who will soon face the atrocities of war far earlier than you would like.

“Good day,” you greet in return before their happy expressions are enough to let you leave the area.

        There’s no way you’ll fall prey to whatever Palpatine is scheming. Whatever the obstacle may be, you’ll blast through them all the same. And to keep Anakin and Obi Wan from falling at his hands, you’ll run through each and every one of them.

        Then it hits you. The familiarity of that feeling you felt twice around Palpatine.

        A feeling of frigid lava— molten cold.

        Palpatine might have truly set his eyes on you and the thought both worries and reassures you.

        "Perhaps it will be you who brings forth such a promising dream,” he’d said to you.

        And yes, it certainly will be you. You’ll make sure of that.

Chapter Text

        Before you’re sent out on your first wartime assignment, you decide that it’s time to find some answers to a long since pushed aside question you’ve nearly to look into.

        Your strange lack of Bond with Mace.

        With your meeting with the clones done long since yesterday, it means that you have plenty of time. Seeing as the meeting with your legion, especially the commanding officers ranking just below you, went extremely well without any notable distinctions, you’re hopeful that a discussion with your old Master can end with the same amount of good feelings or vibes.

        And hopefully some answers too because you know you’re certainly in dire need of some. As it turns out, it looks like just the very idea of “answers” is a hot commodity.

        Getting yourself settled on the cushion within Mace’s room, an action you’re quite familiar with, Mace’s eyes watch you with curiosity. Not towards what you’re doing to get comfortable, no, you’re sure it’s towards your being here. 

“I wished to talk about something I’ve been putting aside,” you begin, not entirely sure of how to say it all. “Something that I believe I should speak to you about.”

        When Mace closes his eyes, sighing softly through his nose, you swear he knows what you mean despite the clumsy delivery. 

“You must be here to speak about our Bond,” Mace declares, easily having read your mind somehow. Not that you made it very hard to read what you wanted. That or he might have already been thinking of the same thing. “Or our lackthereof.”

“I’m here to ask about our lack of,” you decide between his choices. “Do you happen to know why?”

        Tentative sheepishness meets a simple shake of his head. 

“Though, it may be reassuring to know that it is not uncommon for some Masters and Padawans to go without establishing a Training Bond,” Mace explains to you. “The presence of such a Bond is not indicative of the quality of the relationship between a pair.”

        Whether or not you were scared of hearing otherwise, you do feel a sense of relief wash over you. You know that you’re close. Not super duper close and especially not close enough to be privy to your secrets about the galaxy and the future, but close enough.

“As for what I believe may be the reason,” Mace begins suddenly, surprising you because you thought that the discussion had ended there without anything helpful, “I believe it may have to do with the uniqueness of your Signature.”

        Your unique Signature, eh? The only thing you’ve really heard about your Signature is that you’re empty. 

        Ironic that the only thing you’ve heard of is “emptiness.”

        Mace, rather used to you after spending years at your side as guidance, sighs softly. “The common observation is the quality of emptiness to your Signature, however there is another quality of yours.”

        Your interest spikes. This is new.

“It is not alarmingly noteworthy,” he reassures you first and foremost. “However, your shields are strong— far stronger than many I have ever seen. In fact, I don’t believe I have seen such shields in someone as young as yourself. Many Jedi Masters share this quality of yours, but only after many decades of training. Clearly, it comes easier for you.”

        So, stronger mental shields. Could that mean… 

“Have I been blocking you out?” is the next thought you have after what he’s told you. 

        Because if that’s the case, it would make sense. Now that you think about it, this makes sense because how else would your emotional fluctuations go without question by someone like Mace? 

“Not intentionally, it seems,” Mace says, eyeing you carefully. “I don’t suppose you knew about this?”

        You shake your head and he nods to that.

“I assumed as much,” he says. It’s nice to see that he isn’t troubled by the fact that you’ve been blocking him out. “Though, I suppose that cannot be said about certain cases.”

“What cases?” you ask with confusion.

        Everything that comes out of his mouth so far has been way beyond anything you knew anything about.

“This is about Kenobi,” Mace answers.

        …

        What?

        Well, with your heart stopping in your chest, you start fearing for your life. Did he know about something you unintentionally let out? Why couldn’t your shields hide that much from him? 

        What does he know?

        Your anguished thoughts aren’t able to slip past the practiced, passive expression on your face, you know that for a fact, and so you’re sure that Mace isn’t able to notice your mental freakout. That and the fact that there’s no way he should be sensing your dread either.

“And what about Obi Wan particularly?” you wonder aloud, very thankful that your voice didn’t waver enough to be a cause for concern.

        You can see the way Mace just stares and a part of you starts freaking out again even without you wanting it to.

        This is it. This is it.

        Your end isn’t even Palpatine, rather it’s Mace having read into something you didn’t even know you let out— something you never ever wanted him to learn about.

        It’s Mace having learned that his own padawan held affections for a fellow Jedi. For Obi Wan Kenobi, out of all Mace’s fellow senior Jedi… And this isn’t even touching on Mace’s favourite topic of discussion, Anakin Skywalker, and your affections for him … 

“It would appear that you have some sort of Bond with him,” Mace explains to you carefully. “I have heard from him that you two are close.”

        … 

        Oh. Okay.

        This means you’re safe, right? You can only assume that maybe Obi Wan mentioned being able to understand you better than most people. He also must’ve been surprised to hear about the fact that Mace could read you less than he himself could.

“Yes, I would consider him a good friend,” is what you say.

        Mace raises a brow. “And of Skywalker?”

        If he wanted to knock you to the ground with any accusations for being closer than you should be, you certainly would rather him doing it outright than just skirting around the issue. That is, if he even suspects anything.

“We’re good friends,” you repeat. It’s not wrong, per se.

        It’s just not the whole truth. Not that Mace would want to hear about the whole truth anyway. Not that you want him knowing the whole truth either.

“Kenobi mentioned a strange event in which you were able to connect to Skywalker. See him, even, as if he were there with you if you connect with him,” Mace continues to say, but he doesn’t sound like he’s questioning you.

        He just seems interested now. Which must mean you’re still safe.

“Yes, it looks like we’ve connected in some way,” you answer, nodding.

        This is definitely not something you really want to keep from him, especially not when he already heard some bit of it from Obi Wan. 

“Obi Wan called it a sort of Force Bond that is rare but not impossible to form,” you continue to explain, now fine with divulging more information that you’ve managed to collect.

“Was there anything that you had done in particular to create this Bond?” Mace wonders. “Seeing as our Bond had trouble manifesting, was there anything you’ve done differently with Skywalker?”

        You pause to think.

“Meditation, I suppose,” you answer with deep uncertainty, and you can see him noting your tone with a narrow of his eyes. “I’m not very sure of what happened, Master. I haven’t tried connecting with him since the first time I tested the connection with Obi Wan.”

        Mace nods, considering your words very carefully. “I’m assuming the meditation you’d done wasn’t regular meditation?”

        It might be your imagination, but there’s almost a sort of sarcastic tone in his words that brings some level of amusement to you. At least he doesn’t mind offering a bit of a jab at you, and seeing as that’s the case, this must not be as terrible as you’re fearing.

“No, it wasn’t,” you answer, feeling relieved at the loss of some tension. “I’m not sure how to describe it, but only I was meditating and I suppose I must have somehow created a connection without knowing it.”

        The man across from you hums, thinking quite deeply about what you’ve told him. 

“Has there ever been any precedent for this?” you wonder curiously. You hadn’t found anything on your own or from Obi Wan, but there’s a chance that Mace might know.

“Nothing I’ve ever heard or seen myself is similar to your situation,” he answers, sounding rather remorseful at how unhelpful he might seem to be at the moment. “But it appears that it is not a negative situation.”

        He seems to steel something of his. Nerves, perhaps. “Do you believe it to be a negative development of your abilities, Knight [y/n]?”

        You don’t. You’ve never thought of it as such.

“I don’t,” you answer without a hint of uncertainty this time. “Whatever it may be, it’s not bad. At least, it hasn’t given me a reason to think of it as such.”

        At the very least, knowing that you’re so well guarded unconsciously should keep you relatively safe even in the eyes of someone like Palpatine.

“Kenobi certainly thinks so as well,” Mace says and a part of his words make it sound like he’ll let things be for now.

        It’s not like he can probably do anything about how things have turned out, but it looks like he won’t be troubling you about it any time soon. Maybe he wonders how far you might be able to take something like this, whatever it is and what it might be able to do. Considering the nearly infinite possibilities, even you wouldn’t want to limit yourself to what you might be able to do with this.

        If you want to make use of this skill beyond simple, let’s say, conversational contexts, that is.

        …

        You’ll just have to see. Perhaps in time, you’ll see what else you can do with this power of yours. It’s always been like this and there’s no sense in stressing over what’s always been the case. Maybe when the time comes with a need for something like this, you’ll remember that you have this trump card up your sleeve.

        You’ll just have to be sure to keep this in the back of your mind, in any case.

“Is there any other matter you would like to speak to me about?” Mace asks of you. “You will be deployed quite soon.”

        Meaning, you might end up too busy with matters concerning the entire galaxy rather than the mysteries of your abilities. You’re not even sure when the next time you’ll be able to come back to the Jedi Temple thinking you can relax for any longer than a few hours and you’re sure that the underlying tone of concern in Mace’s words is hinting to something like that.

        But such are the matters of life in a war like this one.

“No, I believe that might be all, Master. For now.”

        All in all, the chat didn’t end with zero help. Sure, you didn’t find everything you might’ve wanted, but to say that you found nothing of use or worth further contemplation and patience has it’s issues. Whatever the case may be, it seems that the Force has yet to let you be. 

        And in the hints of the very fibre of the Force around you, especially in a place as deeply connected to the Force as the Temple is, you can feel hints of it…

        … 

        Hints of something there watching over you. Nothing entirely benevolent or evil, either. Something neutral despite the fact that it clearly is in support of you. Something, or rather— 

        A feeling not unlike a breeze wafts over you and your steps within the hauntingly quiet and empty hallways slow to a halt— 

        Distinctly someone … but not entirely that either. More than one, is what you get the hint of and your eyes wander, only to see nothing. Nothing is out of the ordinary from the physical world around you captured by your eyes. But in your senses far less reliant on the rules of the simple world before you, you feel presences. 

        But not of presences you recognize. These are foreign and you know that because you’re sure you’ve never felt them before, but there’s something about them specifically together that makes them seem like one. You could potentially disentangle them from each other but there’s a part of you that would rather not do that.

        Something of the two is deeply woven together, almost as if pulling them apart would be the last thing anyone would want to do.

        It’s intriguing, to say the least.

        But that is all you can glean from what you can see— or feel— at the moment. Nothing else is at all very clear to you, and at such a familiar feeling of helplessness, you simply shelve that concern for another time.

        Answers have a habit of running from you, yes, but they also seem to appear as if they're just choosing their moments carefully.

        Annoying, but there’s little to do but wait.

        Another sensation— Something akin to a nudge. 

        Your eyes lift just as a familiar Signature seems to float by gently, almost tentatively so, and a presence seems to close in. Clearing the distance between you and the corner, you turn to see Obi Wan. Even from a second long glance, you can tell he’s returned from some wartime assignment.

“Welcome back,” you greet the man who had no trouble noticing your presence. “You seem well.”

        Obi Wan smiles, his steps slowing to a halt before you. “As well as I could be in such a time.”

        As well as war allows him to be, he means.

“I just finished speaking to Mace,” you begin, eyes watching the man curiously, “and he told me that you told him about the strange connection I have with Anakin.”

        Obi Wan’s smile falls nearly instantly. “I… I suppose mentioning that I did had slipped my mind. My apologies for having told him before you could do so yourself.”

“That’s fine,” you reassure simply. “I only told him just now.”

“You haven’t told him?” Obi Wan wonders, clearly troubled by the fact that you kept something like that from someone like Mace.

        You’re about to answer before a playful mood rises from within you. You pause, changing your answer in your mind first before answering. “I suppose it slipped my mind.”

        Obi Wan blinks in the silence that follows, but it doesn’t take long before Obi Wan breaks the silence with a chuckle. 

“It seems that Master Windu’s quick tongue has been passed on to you and remains just as strong,” Obi Wan says, eyes full of mirth. “Master Billaba is no different either. I wonder if her padawan will be the same.”

        The conversation falls to a halt there, having found it’s way to a happy end of sorts. Your eyes wander their way up from his smile, to his eyes, and then to the state of his appearance above all of that. The last time you saw him, he had his long hair signature to his Attack of the Clones appearance.

        But now… 

“You’ve cut your hair,” you note, eyes tracing the outline of his shorter hairstyle. 

        At your words, he stiffens for a heartbeat. A hand of his reaches up to his head and the face he takes on tells you that he’s a bit conscious after being called out so suddenly.

“It appears that my duties leave little room for much more than this, I’m afraid,” Obi Wan says, sounding and seeming a bit troubled. “I do hope that it doesn’t look… strange.”

        To think he also worries about his appearance like this… 

“I think it suits you,” you reassure easily, smiling brightly towards the man. “You look handsome.”

        The praise you speak of comes easy for you. After thinking about that fact as often as you do, the words fall naturally from your lips. Considering the flow situation, you aren’t nearly as deep in regret for having said that as you might normally be, and when Obi Wan seems to flush at the sudden compliment, any lingering regret disappears without a single trace.

“I…” He clears his throat, turning away with his closed hand covering a bit of the lower half of his face. 

        You can see the way the tips of his ears are dusted with red and you swell at the accomplishment of flustering the one who finds it so easy to fluster others.

“Do you truly think so?” he asks in a whisper far softer than any other, almost as if he were afraid of asking. He doesn’t look you in the eye either, furiously keeping them away as much as possible.

        There’s a strained feeling coming from his end. It’s not terrible and certainly not all that worrying. He just seems a bit overwhelmed by the sudden compliment, from what you can understand, like he’s a rubber band being stretched out too, too much.

“Yes, of course I think so, my friend,” is your cheeky answer, and with the way his Signature seems to jerk at your answer, you figure that maybe you’ve teased him enough for the day.

        For now.

“I’ll leave you be, Master Kenobi,” you declare slyly with a laugh that bubbles up to your lips. You reach out, patting the speechless man on the arm. “Hopefully we’ll see each other again soon amidst all this.”

        His deeply embarrassed flush melts away and something seems to dawn on him. It’s almost as if, for a second, he forgot that there was a war surrounding the world as he knows it.

“Be careful while on the field, [y/n],” he tells you with a careful and cautious tone that you’re used to hearing from him. “May the Force be with you.”

        There’s a gentle pull of concern in his voice that makes it seem as if, to him, looking away makes him fear that this may be the last he’ll ever see you before him. 

“I will,” you promise in spite of all of that. “And the same to you. May the Force be with you, Obi Wan.”

        And may you see him again sometime soon.

Chapter Text

“If I’m being honest with you, General, I’d say the men did well.”

        Your eyes flicker to your second-in-command, a clone of arguably average appearance save for the tattoo shaped like a three toed talon streaking diagonally and so snug close to his left eye that you initially wondered how painful getting it inked must’ve been. With half his head shaved down to a buzz while the other half remains longer, it’s the smirk plastered on his face that really seals the deal of his general character, from what you’ve noticed.

“Perhaps give them a little word?” Talon, CC-1523 if you remember correctly, continues with the energy of his smirk leaking into his low tone. He watches you, almost a little too closely, and you half expect for him to wink at you. “To hear their beloved General congratulate them would definitely give us a boost of morale, right?”

        And then he does wink. 

        You manage to keep your groan to yourself in the confines of your head and keep yourself from walking any faster through the halls of the Venator-class Star Destroyer you technically call yours. Fittingly called Guardian, at that, considering your role in protecting the world from the terror that is two old men scheming in the shadows of the Dark Side.

        Whatever emotions do slip onto your face aren’t unnoticed. Especially not when another body closely behind Talon stirs with a mischievous air that you can feel so easily. Another face pops up, sporting a tattoo nearly identical to Talon’s, though the talons number in four toes over his right eye. At the very least, he maintains a haircut far more simpler than Talon’s.

        He leans his head forward past Talon’s figure, revealing his simple buzzcut head to you and a smile that seems just as terrible— for you, at least— as Talon’s smirk is.

“It’s been some time since you’ve told us we’ve done a good job, General,” Winger chirps in, aggravatingly following the same wave of his longtime friend since days as a trainee apparently. He feigns a swoon as if the very idea of his own words ails him. “Have we not been performing to your standards?”

        Winger, CC-1240, is so very much like Talon in the way that he has too much energy for all the wrong things, like playing around, and it's a wonder how you’ve managed to last this long with their combined front of incredible energy and near flawless cooperation. At the very least, Winger just seems like the type to want more fun than anything else, rather than Talon's seemingly underhanded character. 

        All in good jest, of course. You can only assume that the reason for their open fun is because you’ve been a little too lax with them. Giving them too much of the carrot and not enough stick, it seems.

        Still, you’re not sure you would have it any other way.

        This time, you do sigh, and at the sight of that, Talon barks out a laugh whereas Winger has some tact to hide his snickering behind a hand.

“You may be second after the General,” warns a voice behind you, though the voice lacks much of a warning tone and instead sounds more deadpan, “but you shouldn’t play too much, Commander Talon. General Kep-She gave you quite the earful after the battle over Malastare, didn’t she?”

        Talon’s smile doesn’t falter. Rather, it seems to grow a little frosty before the said troublemaking commander grabs the owner of the voice under his arm. The air around the two behind you is nothing concerning, rather it seems like Talon is more interested in teasing the clone behind you now.

        The ever-stoic and serious A'vis, or CT-1879, is one of your battalion’s clone medic who, if not for his slight weakness in leadership skills, might have been a great commander of sorts in his own rights as well. In your eyes, he’s certainly earned a right to be offering verbal jabs to your second-in-command.

        And true to his nature, he’s also not as meticulous as flaunting a very individualistic appearance with the exception of a two toed claw mark gliding down and over his left eye down to his cheek. From what you heard, he’d gotten it to match both Winger and Talon after having saved Winger on the field, thus earning their respect and a place within this little close group.

        It’s also nice to have a realist around, in any case.

“For a medic, you sure got a bite, don’t ya?” Talon wonders aloud, clearly switching his sights on the poor clone medic now. If A'vis is unhappy with the action, you don’t hear it.

        You can hear the way A'vis sighs, however, but he’s clearly not all that fazed judging by the sound of it. Or he’s at least not showing it all that much. “The General may be lenient, but if you’re going to drag us into discipline trouble, I don’t see why I should sit around and take it.”

“You barely got the full of it, A'vis,” Winger sighs out, eyeing the two who’ve fallen behind, allowing him to take a place beside you. The more freely expressive clone seems to toss a pout behind him.

        The three bicker, but the sound of it isn’t all that bad. Certainly having Talon and Winger relentlessly teasing you and their brothers in arms can grate on your patience a bit, but it’s not at all… that bad. Not when it’s like a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the whole war business. 

        Perhaps that’s the reason why it’s a bit hard to stop them while they’re having fun. It’s not like this greater freedom ever dampens their efforts with their duties. Far from it.

        The clone troopers that you pass with the trio you normally consider something like the three biggest characters within your cozy and large family of the purple accented 983rd Attack Battalion offer their salutes to you as you pass— markers of their respect for you.

        Of course, you may be young compared to some of the other Generals, especially the Jedi Master Generals, but you’ve worked hard to keep as many lives on the field as alive as possible. The clones respect you for that. At least, A'vis confesses to that much. Talon and Winger… Well, they attribute the clones’ respect for you out of, and you can quote and imagine their innocently smiling faces easily, “deep, unwavering loyalty for their one and only General.”

        From what you can remember, the feeling that came off of them felt more playful than innocent, something that earned the short lecture from Mace as he was around to see the whole ordeal.

        …

“Perhaps I will,” you say aloud, hearing the way the ruckus behind you stops.

“‘Will’ what?” questions Winger with confusion and the easygoing smile on his face from teasing A'vis with Talon disappears within an instant.

“Congratulating the men,” you answer simply, not taking your eyes off the hallway in front of you. “Perhaps you’re right. Some praise is long past due. They deserve to know they’ve been doing well.”

        You’re quite sure you’re the only Jedi General who indulges their troops even just a little bit. You’ve heard good things about Plo Koon, though considering his gentle and overall good character, you’re not that surprised. You do wonder if Anakin does the same. You’ve heard word of how well they work with one another and seem to… in a way, serve with smiles on their faces under Anakin’s leadership. 

        How did Obi Wan treat his troopers? That one you’re not too sure about. Even as your mind wanders to the thought of them, bringing about a heavy feeling over your shoulders of… something, you simply linger in that mindset.

        What were the two doing now, you can’t help but wonder…? 

        Talon coos with surprise, nearly instantly appearing at your side with a grin. “Has the General received some good news? You’re in an awfully good mood all of a sudden…”

        And perhaps you are. The thought of Anakin and Obi Wan certainly is enough to lift your already weary spirits up off the ground. You havn’t seen them in a while, what with all the war efforts being expended and all that, and with you galavanting all over the galaxy under the orders of the Republic and the Order, there’s little room to see many others along the way.

        A pity. Lonely. You don’t want to admit, but it’s difficult. The past few months have been but a blur of warfare, reconnaissance, space battle— nearly everything you’ve been trained the basics for, only to be shoved into the limelight of a life-and-death version of it all.

        Tiring. And to think there’ll be at least a few more years of this.

“Yes, I suppose so,” you say after the thoughts are replaced with the present, glancing towards Talon at your side. “Effort is to be commended, in any case.”

        Perhaps if you work a little harder and distinguish yourself a little more on the warfront, you might be able to be assigned to a place with either one of the two too. After all, they’re two of the best that the Order has to offer in the war. You’re not too bad, at least not considering what Talon comments on a daily, but certainly not Obi Wan Kenobi or Chosen One Anakin level good enough.

        …

        You’ll just have to work a little harder. The better you do earlier on, the better things might be later on as well for a great deal of other things too.

        You let the thoughts drain away from you and something akin to a breeze seems to float by you. For a second, you still and turn your head back to see… nothing at all wrong. A'vis, seeing your eyes wander the way you’d come, also turns quizzically.

“Something wrong, General?” Talon questions, voice stripped of the fun. After all, he’s more than used to your sensitive senses after all the battles you’ve been through together. 

        For a second, you catch the hint of… 

        …

        Obi Wan and Anakin.

        Which is not possible, but no sooner is it all gone and you’re left to just stare with blinking eyes. Sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose.

        So far, the Force has been rather nice to you. Before, you’d have trouble after trouble trying to keep up with the development of your strange skills, but seeing as you’ve practiced, tweaked, and reworked it to the point of general understanding and clarity ever since before the war started, you’ve been in the clear that is known as peace. It’s quite the powerful miracle, you admit. Having enough on your plate these days, it’s as if the Force wants you to focus on the whole “fighting a war” thing rather than deal with…

        Well, that. The Force and your spotty place within it, you mean.

        When the thought passes you that says this is a sign that something else is arriving to give you more to handle, you let the thought sink in with defeat. Nothing to do to stop the inevitable, and you know that. If the Force wants to dump another strange thing on you, you couldn’t do anything about it.

        But it certainly would’ve been nice if Obi Wan was around to help you through it as he always used to be. Even just having Anakin throwing up a storm like a concerned mother hen would be better than your casual dismissiveness towards it.

        Even the thought of that is enough to make the world seem a bit woozy, but only for a second. The metal of the ship all around you shifts, but you’re not entirely sure of what you see before it disappears and all you’re left with is the memory of it.

        Seeing as you couldn’t recognize it while it was happening, you’re not entirely sure if your memory can do it justice, so that’s quite the bust.

        For better or for worse, you just can’t help but not care as much as you should. Considering how your week’s been and what sorts of larger contextual things hounding you at every step, you can’t blame yourself.

“No, it’s nothing,” you reassure the three staring down the hall with eyes narrowed not unlike trained guard dogs sensing danger approaching. It’s a sight you’re quite accustomed to.

        You can only assume their “deep, unwavering loyalty,” is enough to snap them into genuine concern for the safety of their apparent favourite commanding officer: you.

        A'vis looks back to you, face barely shifting except for the fact that his brows furrow just slightly. “General, you should rest while you have the chance to. General Windu has warned against overextending yourself.”

“I haven’t been overworking,” you explain to the medic with a glance. “But I’ll be sure to get a bit more rest. We have a bit of time until our next assignment too, anyway.”

“Leave the work I can do to me,” Talon offers without missing a beat. “We’ll need you in top form next time we’re in action, General.”

        You can’t help but smile at the way he switches into his serious Commander tone. For all the playing around he does, he certainly is a clone trooper through and through, holding his duty to the highest degree. Even if there’s a hint of warm concern haunting his body as he stares at you.

        If anyone asks, you certainly feel like you’ve got the best Commander with you out of them all.

“Well, if you offer so easily, I’ll make sure to share some,” you promise, turning back towards the direction of your destination again. “Let’s head to the bridge before we’re late in checking in on Master Fisto in case he needs that help of ours after all.”

        Not that you’re expecting to be called. Amongst the cloud shrouding your mind with heavy reminders of Obi Wan and Anakin’s Signatures, you’re sure that the Nautolan Jedi General won’t be needing your assistance. Or, at least not a lot of it. 

        At the head of the four person pack, just as A'vis speaks up to probably excuse himself for his duties rather than follow his commanding officers straight to the bridge where he’s probably not going to do a whole lot, a feeling that seems so undeniably like Obi Wan and Anakin crashes over you just as you turn the corner where only a few more steps would have carried you through another door and straight into the bridge.

        The clones next to you stiffen, first and foremost, clamming up into complete silence as they stand to attention.

“Generals,” is how they all greet the two figures they can see and that you can see.

        And the two people turn. Judging by who they are, the fact that they saluted isn’t the issue. Not at all.

“[Y/n]?”

“Is that… Is that really you?”

        The issue is the fact that upon the Guardian and in the immediate area, you’re the one and only Jedi General present other than Kit. Any other Jedi is hours and hours away, even with hyperspace travel.

        You’re not able to answer either Obi Wan or Anakin’s confused question because you’re too dumbstruck by all of this. From what it looks like, Obi Wan’s currently standing in the middle of a meeting with the Council all the way from Coruscant. Anakin is just as silently shocked within what looks like his own cruiser, but more so due to awe if the happy smile spreading over his face is any indication.

        This time, you finally groan aloud, letting it come out into the open.

        It looks like the peace you assumed the Force so mercifully offered was only temporary after all.

        Everything and everyone is silent at first, until— 

“Anakin?”

“Master?”

        You blink out of your stupor, looking up to see the images looking straight at each other, and the only reason this is more troubling is because that shouldn’t be possible. After all, the last time you connected to Anakin like this, the men couldn’t see each other, let alone speak to each other. Yet here they are, in a place they shouldn’t be, staring at each other, and speaking as though they were in the same room.

        They most certainly see each other.

        Why though?

“Kenobi, what is this that we’re seeing?” you can hear Mace’s voice wondering and your head practically whips towards the vague sight of Mace in the background of the setting Obi Wan stands in.

        Suddenly, this seemingly simple connection you had with Anakin feels all the more complicated. 

        … 

        As if you didn’t have other things to worry about already… 

“General!” calls a voice from somewhere you can’t really see, completely shaking you out of the sight, followed by the sound of footsteps.

        That and a conveniently unfortunate fluster of, “what the kriff?” soon after that everyone in the area can hear.

“What is it?” you try calling since you know that the hallway continues past the image, meaning the trooper must be past the image or vision or whatever this all is. 

“Er,” begins the distinct voice of a clone, “it’s General Fisto. His report has patched through and he wants to speak to you.”

        A heartbeat of silence and an unsure mumble of, “Generals,” passes that you know isn’t directed at you. He must be greeting the images of his superiors before him.

        War waits for no one, the voice that seems to be having too much fun in your head muses towards you, as you try to figure out what is happening in front of you.

        But only the warmth of Obi Wan and Anakin’s Signatures situated far closer than they should be comes to mind. You can tell that there’s a connection being made between you and them, and at a brief glance, you’re sure it’s not entirely permanent. Some of it seems to have… what more or less can be considered an off switch. As if they were wound around you tightly, unbounding them should be enough to put an end to all of this, you hope.

“Let’s just talk about this later,” you declare uneasily, looking between the men glancing between each other and you. “I have to go.”

“Right,” Anakin says first, offering a curt nod despite the winding sensation of confusion and desperation to understand coming from his end.

        Obi Wan’s figure eyes the sight of someone looking at him, but he directs his eyes to you again with a nod.

        And then, with almost too careful control, you let the connection… unwind, in a way. The sights disappear and the feeling of Anakin and Obi Wan’s Signature dims into something like a faraway glimmer. You can still feel their confusion, if not with a little more difficulty, and you sigh heavily.

“A comm from General Fisto,” you repeat, looking up at the trooper you can see now. “Let’s get going and see what he needs.”

        You lead the confused group of clones along, not at all surprised to hear the trooper whispering some question about whatever that had been all about to someone behind you.

“Jedi business, trooper,” Talon mumbles in return. “Best not think too hard on it.”

        And you wholeheartedly agree with that. Jedi business is a headache.

        You just wished it didn’t need to be you dealing with it all.

——

—

        Providing reinforcements to Kit, aiding in what can be considered the closing notes of your current assignment, and making sure everything else is fine, you eventually find yourself in a room with a lot more people in it than you would like.

“Interesting,” comments Kit, being the first person to speak once everyone has, for lack of a better term, connected into the call.

        If you told your younger self that eventually, your abilities would eventually allow you to create Force Skype calls, the younger you would most certainly laugh at you and probably bet you would sooner fall to the Dark Side before anything like that would happen.

        Yet here you are… 

“And how are you feeling, [l/n]?” Kit asks curiously, looking away from the sight of Obi Wan with the backdrop of the Council Room behind him and Anakin with a different portion of his ship behind him. “It seems that such an ability is not too harmful for you.”

        The only reason Kit is here in the first place after having helped him is because Mace suggested for him to join the “Skype call.” After all, there are little Jedi as hungry for knowledge and the like as Kit is, and if anyone knew of anything pertaining to your situation, you’d also agree that Kit was a good bet for some advice if no one else had any. That and the fact that he’s part of the Council you’re to be talking to. 

        And you also have Yoda somewhere in the background of Obi Wan’s place.

“No, I feel no different than usual,” you answer carefully. “Though, I do feel Anakin and Obi Wan’s Signature more than usual. Just a little bit.”

        A brief hint of worry flickers by too quickly for you to know who it had been, but it was definitely one of the two. Or both. You don’t know.

“Well, I certainly do feel their Signatures as well,” Kit offers to you, nodding. “Through your Signature, that is. It’s as if they only exist here due to your influence. Are you sure you feel fine?”

        You let yourself pause, just to think about it more deeply. Just in case, you decide, but nothing comes to mind. You’re fine.

        Completely fine.

“Nothing,” you answer, shaking your head towards your senior Jedi. “Nothing different at all.”

        Kit falls silent, simply thinking about the situation. Whatever he had in mind, if he had anything in the first place, seems to not fit in with your situation. Which is a pity.

“I understand why Skywalker has appeared, seeing as you’ve noted a sort of Bond with him before,” Mace’s voice says, sounding a tiny bit off from Obi Wan’s direction, “but why is Kenobi also affected?”

        Why indeed… But if Anakin’s here because of your strange connection with him, which had been created by that equally strange vision or one-sided mediation thing, then the same could be said about Obi Wan, right? The same thing happened with him, didn’t it?

        …

        Oh boy.

“I must have created the same Bond with Obi Wan by accident, Master,” you explain, feeling somewhat guilty. 

        This had been your own doing, not once, but twice.

“My apologies for creating such trouble,” you say, lowering your eyes to the ground. “And with such bad timing, I…”

        Everyone has so much on their plates right about now. It makes you feel a bit bad that your bad luck streak had to trouble others like this. 

        Somehow, a part of the Council’s troubles always seems to be your fault.

“I wouldn’t call it trouble,” Kit chirps rather happily in his own right and you swear you hear Mace’s sigh. At least someone’s enjoying themself. “In fact, such a connection may very well be convenient in these times.”

“This certainly hasn’t been the most troubling development of [l/n]’s abilities,” offers a voice from Obi Wan’s side, but you're not entirely sure of who it is.

“And a Bond as deep within the Force as this between these three may aid them on the battlefield by offering each other’s support whenever necessary,” offers another, though they sound a bit uncertain.

        You can already feel a headache coming over you.

“And what do you two think about these developments?” Mace’s voice wonders aloud. “Skywalker, Kenobi?”

“I don’t mind it,” Anakin answers first, sounding a bit more excited about the situation than you would like and it seems like Obi Wan catches that too because Obi Wan’s lips curl a bit downward. “[Y/n] has excellent control over their abilities. From what I could tell, this was an accident. Not a bad accident, anyway.”

“Anakin is right, I believe. Today may very well be the only exception when it comes to a fully controlled connection,” Obi Wan says in agreement. “Whatever the case may be, I have full faith that [y/n] will figure something out that is to the benefit of us all.”

        Anakin, though he frowns at Obi Wan probably because he’d been more or less upstaged first, flickers his eyes to you. On the other hand, Obi Wan simply keeps his eyes on you, and when he seems to notice your eyes watching him carefully, he smiles almost minutely as if he only wanted you to see.

        And for some odd reason, the reaction that you earn right then is a single beat of a headache that seems to warn of something worse on the horizon. The pulse causes you to flinch, lifting a hand to your head as you can’t help lowering your head just a bit.

        This isn’t any normal headache.

        Someone shifts closer as you try and nurse this sudden headache. “[L/n], are you alright?”

“I’m more or less alright,” you answer, looking up towards Kit. “Just… I don’t think I should keep this connection alive for much longer. My head is starting to hurt.”

“We mustn’t have this connection maintained for any longer,” Kit declares, his voice no longer directed towards you. “I would not want to risk [l/n] just to see the limits of their abilities.”

        Screwing your eyes shut, you can feel concern and worry from Anakin and Obi Wan’s ends swirling around you. It’s comforting, at least, as you feel the desire to let it all come undone grow stronger.

“Observe this development, continue to, we will,” Yoda’s voice declares. “Knight [l/n], faith in you, we have. Over time, the answers to this, you will find.”

        That’s nice of him.

“I’ll be sure to report any noticeable changes, Master Yoda,” you promise.

“Then we will end this meeting here,” Mace states. “Master Fisto, please make sure that Knight [l/n] is well taken care of after this.”

“Of course, Master Windu.”

        An exchange of pleasantries that is many “may the Force be with you”s is passed hurriedly along, probably for fear of keeping you in this state, and the moment you’re able is the very second that the connection is unwound in front of you. The feeling of Anakin and Obi Wan’s joint worry and concern remain within the back of your mind, somehow still making it’s way to you passively, in a way.

“Shall we have you checked by a medic?” Kit offers. “Perhaps something to help your headache, if it’s possible?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” you answer, hand pressed against the side of your head as you nurse what feels like the onset of a terrible headache. 

        At the very least, you’re thankful for the fact that your duties are done for now and the Council probably won’t send you off until you’re feeling alright again. 

        You’re able to stand on your own without any issue, but seeing you wobble slightly when your balance wanes is enough to have a careful hand of Kit’s around your arm. He smiles pleasantly towards you when you glance up at him and the hand remains firm and careful.

“Thank you, Master Fisto,” you make sure to say to the Nautolan. “I do hope I’m not troubling you.”

“This is no trouble to me at all,” he reassures brightly, guiding you along with steps far slower than his usual strides. “I would never wish for you to struggle through your troubles on your own. If I may be of help, I will gladly offer it.”

        The kindness paired with his light and easygoing tone brings a smile to your face.

“Perhaps, when I have a chance to return to the Temple, I should search through the Holocron Archives for a clue,” Kit continues to offer, very carefully considering the idea. “Though, I don’t quite believe there may be anything there of help for you.”

        It almost sounds like he’s apologizing in place of the ancient Jedi history that just doesn't hold a precedence of your situation. Not that you expect there to be any. You’ve long since accepted that there’s probably nothing out there that could help but time, patience, and a careful eye.

“I couldn’t trouble you with something like that, Master Fisto,” you say meekly, earning a boisterous chuckle.

“It is no trouble to me, [l/n]! What we learn of your case will be helpful should another like yourself appear,” he explains to you, not at all bothered by the task he’s tossed himself into. “I shall have a look. Should I find anything, I will contact you. I don’t suppose you will reject such an offer?”

        If you were going to do just that— reject him— then the very happy smile on his face deters you from even forming the words. Such is the persuasiveness of an intellectual Jedi Master wanting nothing more than to learn and help.

“Then, thank you, Master Fisto,” you say, unable to form a good enough argument to stop him from going forth to sift around for answers you know aren’t there.

        Perhaps he knows too.

“But of course!”

        It’s kind of him to still try.

——

—

        Hours pass you by as you nurse away the headache that makes you feel far more tired than any other headache you’ve had before, yet the concern continues to seep towards you like a gently blowing breeze. They do nothing, in any case, and you’re sure it’s because they don’t want to potentially make anything worse. 

        Which you are thankful for. The headache isn’t anything to freak out over, but you are sure that if you rush into something like this without any planning or further researching, you’re bound to throw yourself into the middle of something possibly worse than a simple headache. 

        Then, something similar to what had happened before in the hall happens again. A sheepish and almost fearful gesture is made towards you in the confines of your mind. The wafting sensation of the Force around you isn’t all that strong, but it’s enough to pull your attention.

        Anakin. The sensation of his Signature is easy to recognize. You let the feeling of him into your mind without further contemplation, an action that feels so natural despite the fact that you’ve never done this before.

“[Y/n]?” whispers a voice in your head and you jerk with surprise. “Is everything… Is everything alright for you? Are you feeling alright? Can you even hear me?”

        You thank the pounding in your head for not getting worse when then voice slips into the edges of your mind and you nearly stop breathing for a moment as the last of his voice sinks into the darkness of your mind. Taking in a deep breath and reminding yourself that this is a married man you’re technically hearing in your head, you try your best not to freak out. 

        Though, you do let yourself take a seat.

        In your mind, you respond with a simple, “hello? Anakin? Is that you?”

        …

        … … 

        Nothing, evidently.

        How would one speak to the voice of someone who should be hours or days away from your location even with hyperspace but instead is conveniently speaking to you through your mind?

        Slipping into your own mind, you can feel Anakin’s Signature almost as if he were nearby. Not exactly next to you by any means, but close. Very unlike how close he felt before.

“Hello?” you try saying aloud, glancing about despite the fact that you know the connection isn’t as strong as before. “Anakin?”

        It’s only halfway to completely entangled, you notice.

“[Y/n]!” practically shouts Anakin in surprise and a jolt of what feels like shock rushes from his end. “Is that you? Really?”

“I would like to think so?” is your awkward answer. “And that’s you, right? Anakin?”

“I also would think so,” is his casual sarcasm and you briefly wonder if he got such a tongue from Obi Wan in the same way that you apparently inherited Mace’s quick tongue.

        You pause. This seems like a weaker version of what had transpired before with the whole Force Skype thing. Your headache isn’t getting any worse, but it could also be a matter of time for it to get worse.

        …

        You could always test that theory right about now…

“So how are you feeling?” Anakin wonders through your head. “I heard from Obi Wan that General Fisto reported to the Council that you were fine.”

“Master Fisto is right, I’m fine. Just still waiting out the headache,” you explain to the young man, seemingly speaking to no one but yourself. You’re quite glad that you’re in your room on the Guardian rather than anywhere else.

“Oh. ‘Headache,’” Anakin repeats almost blandly. “Should I… should I go? I don’t want to make it worse for you.”

        You can tell that he’d rather not leave and you silently agree with that.

“No, I want to see if this kind of connection is as difficult as the other one,” you explain to him, noting the way your headache hasn’t really changed in any way that you can easily notice. “If it won’t be an issue, will you stay here with me?”

“Of course!” he blurts out quickly, warming your heart all the same. “I mean, if you want me to stay with you, I will. I don’t mind.”

        In a romantic kind of way, the pleasantness of his presence in your mind is nearly enough to completely take your mind off the pounding in your head.

“So, uh, how have you been?”

        And then his awkward attempt at conversation crushes all of that. Not that Anakin has been particularly suave in the same ways that Obi Wan is. It seems like Anakin didn’t inherit that sort of thing, and to be frank, that’s certainly better for your heart and situation.

        Anakin with Obi Wan’s ability to fluster would end the galaxy in a heartbeat.

        You stifle the laugh that you’re not sure if he hears or not. “I’ve been fine. No major injuries, I’m still alive after each battle, and my men think I’m doing well in leading them. The Council hasn’t had any reason to summon me for any criticisms either, so I think I’m doing well.”

        Before you let the conversation die out completely, you decide that you can toss Anakin a bone and help him with the apparently burdening weight of the conversation. “And you?”

“Me? Oh, well, you know me. I get called in, take care of the fight, win, and then it’s onto the next one,” he answers with his usual boyish charm as his saving grace and what clearly sounds like his usual smirk. “So far, I haven’t lost any more limbs, so that’s good news.”

        Chatting like this makes it feel like the war isn’t actually here at all. It’s almost as if the two of you haven’t seen each other simply due to busy lives, not calls to action. If you close your eyes, it feels as though you’re back in the Temple, wandering the halls with Anakin at your side excitedly chattering away about his most recent mission with Obi Wan.

        Those were the easier days. Those long gone days pushed far behind you.

        Fatigue begins to inch it’s way into your bones and it feels like the very essence of your age is catching up to you. 

        Tired.

        You feel really tired. 

“[Y/n]?”

        You’d almost forgotten that Anakin was here. Or, well, technically here. 

“Sorry,” you say, voice sounding a bit weaker than you wish it was. “It looks like even talking like this takes a bit of a toll on me. Fatigue, it looks like.”

        He says nothing at first, but you do get a very visceral sense slipping through.

        A need, of some sort. Desire, even.

“You want something,” you translate into verbal words for him. “Is there something you need?”

        Again, Anakin remains silent, for the most part. At least for a moment. “I want to see you.”

        It’s not a request. Far from it, really, and you can only assume that it’s because he doesn’t want to trouble you any more than he might already be. But the need is all too clear behind those words drifting into your mind

        It’s a simple answer. An answer that’s hard not to think of as being a request.

        Closing your eyes, you let your mind focus on the connection you already have. Seeing as this connection just seems to be a little less than the other, you simply add to it. 

        Making the connection more whole, in a way. It’s hard to understand just what exactly you’re doing beyond focusing on it and imagining something more full.

“You didn’t have to do this, [y/n],” Anakin says to you softly, and when you open your eyes, you look up to see Anakin standing there as if he were there. He looks a bit remorseful and fidgety. 

“You’re right. I didn’t have to,” you say with a smile. “I wanted to.”

        Your headache throbs just a bit, but you can handle it. 

        He takes a hesitant step forward, and when that one is complete, he strides closer with growing confidence until he stops right in front of you. He leans forward over your figure, planting hands on the sides of your seat with eyes watching you so carefully that it feels like you’re being cornered.

“You don’t look so good,” he says in a low murmur. A hand lifts from your side, moving to hesitantly hover over the side of your head. 

“Just tired, I promise,” you reassure carefully, and when the last of your words are said, you feel something warm and strangely there pressing against your cheek.

        It’s Anakin’s hand, the one that hasn’t been replaced with wires and metal, so it’s warm as it presses itself against your skin. It’s a bit hard to pull away, for more reasons than one, and you simply stare up into his blue eyes.

“What’s wrong?” you find yourself asking.

“Nothing,” he breathes out, not pulling away whatsoever. “I’m just worried about you.”

        You know that something like this shouldn’t be happening. After all, what would Padmé think? Your own hand lifts towards his arm, but the moment you touch him is the moment you feel a sensation of heavy fear— 

        Fear of rejection.

        Your heart sags and you admit defeat by simply curling your fingers around his arm. Without any pushing.

“I know to take care of myself,” you tell the young man. “So don’t worry about me.”

“I know, but I still do. Constantly,” he explains to you and you stiffen when you feel the sensation of a thumb running over your skin. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you quickly say, squeezing the arm in your hand. “You won’t. I’m plenty strong, like you always say I am.”

        Anakin finally offers you a smile that nearly makes you want to melt on the spot. “Yeah. I do say that, don’t I?”

        His words make it hard to figure out how to respond, but it doesn’t seem to matter because a distinct pang rings out in your head. Grimacing in your seat, Anakin is quick to scramble his hand from your cheek to the temple of your head.

        You can see the way he frowns deeply. “Is there anything you can do to stop it? The headache?”

“No medicine can help. It seems to be Force induced,” you explain with a gentle shake of your head. “I just need time and some rest, I think.”

        The hand that isn’t so carefully cradling your head squeezes the metal tightly.

“I wish I could heal you myself, but my Force healing abilities are…” he trails off, very clearly thinking about his weaknesses in that area.

“You have strengths in other things, Anakin,” you say, watching his expression softening. “I have time before my next assignment. It’ll be okay.”

        Anakin, though still looking unsure, nods. The hand pressed against your head remains there. Until, after a squeeze of his other hand around the metal of your seat, he pulls away.

“Then you should go,” Anakin advises quickly, sounding worried again. “You need to take care of yourself.”

“I’ll be sure to do that. Take care of myself, I mean,” you say, closing your eyes and wondering if you’ll just fall asleep right there and then. “Thank you for testing this out with me.”

“I wouldn’t say no to you, [y/n],” he tells you. “If you need me, I’ll help you just like you would for me. No matter what.”

        There’s a sense of devotion in his words to you and your mind wanders to Padmé. Did he promise himself to her like this? You’re not sure. 

        But you do brush that thought along as quickly as you can before Anakin can catch a hint of it. Blinking your eyes again, you can see him standing there, close to you, with eyes that stare and make it seem like the world consists of only you and him at this very moment.

“Thank you, Anakin.”

        He nods, offering you a small yet genuinely bright smile. “Anytime, [y/n]. Just say the word.”

Chapter Text

        Without being too boastful about your skills, you can easily admit to a few things when the topic of your saber skills are brought up—

        You’ve beaten Anakin before, but only a few times and definitely not often at all in the more recent times. Only when he’d been younger could you beat him easily. These days, it’s rare if at all possible.

        You’ve beaten Obi Wan even less times than you’ve beaten Anakin. In fact, you can count the number of times you’ve defeated the older man on one hand and one hand only regardless of whether or not the result is from more recent times. These days, it’s nearly impossible to one-up him when it comes to sparring and you’re quite certain he seems to relish in the fact that you can’t beat him.

        You’ve never beaten Mace and you’re sure no amount of experience would ever change that, so, end of story there.

        But beyond them, you can handle other Jedi Knights that you’ve been matched with for training sessions. So all in all, your skills are above average, at best. There are plenty of people who could wipe the floor with you when it comes to the ways of saber combat, but at the same time there are also plenty of people who can’t beat you in battle. 

        Your strength was in how you could use the Force. Your mastery over your control rivaled plenty of senior Knights and even some Jedi Masters. You can also be quite sure that you were probably comparable if not better than Obi Wan and Anakin in that aspect.

        The issue, then, is the fact that in war with an enemy side that has three lightsaber wielding enemies, you’re bound to meet at least one of them in battle. You’re sure that with your current skill level, you should be able to hold your own against Ventress and live to tell the tale. You’re not so sure yet as you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the fantastic assassin woman, so the truth might not actually be so kind.

        You don’t even want to think about Grievous at all. Obi Wan’s jar’kai already had you on the ground— defeated on so many occasions— so Grievous’ four saber fighting style has you hoping you’ll never, ever have the opportunity to engage him in battle.

        And the last one? Well, you’ve met Count Dooku before at Geonosis where he seemed to eye you down as if challenging you to face him. Seeing as you knew he was able to pretty much kick both a padawan Anakin and Obi Wan to the curb, taking off the former’s forearm in the process while stabbing the other in the thigh, you ran for other, arguably more plot-relevant reasons.

        Certainly not because you were scared of trying to face him or anything.

        But on the warfront…? Well, on the warfront you don’t exactly have the luxury to turn and bolt for “other, arguably more plot-relevant reasons” again.

“It appears that you have no reason to run this time, young Jedi.”

        Count Dooku stands before you and you try your best not to feel too frazzled by his confidence. His saber isn’t activated yet, but it soon will be. Nearby you know that your battalion is currently locked in battle with the Count’s droid forces, meaning they shouldn’t have as much trouble as you. Since only Jedi could really take on Dooku, Ventress, and Grievous during battles on the field, it’s up to you to handle the older man.

        On your own.

        Until he leaves.

        If he even wants to leave, that is… 

        You’re not sure if the Council knew prior to sending you here that Dooku was going to be here or if they just assume that you’ll be fine, because you certainly do not feel fine.

“It would appear that that’s the case, yes,” you practically parrot back, hands curling around your sabers. 

        You know you can’t win.

“I do not need to know through the Force that there’s great fear in you,” he states, and suddenly, a red light shoots out from his curved saber hilt. 

“I do admit to that,” you offer to the man, allowing your own sabers to activate as well, filling the air closer to you with a similar hum. 

        This moment feels like one of those olden day, Western shootouts and you can safely say that you hate it.

        You can see the way Dooku eyes you, staring at something you’re not too sure about. “An interesting confession from a Jedi such as yourself.”

        What was he doing, sizing you up? You’re not sure what he means by noting that and your form falters a bit. He almost sounds like he wants to just chat but the crimson lightsaber at his side says otherwise. You’re quite certain you’ve heard Anakin speaking about clashing with the Count a few times during the earlier points of the war, and the thought of that makes you wonder if he was trying to compare you to the rather volatile young man somewhat close to your age.

        Or, if he somehow managed to find out this information, he was comparing you to your old master Mace. Then again, Palpatine might’ve told him.

“I wouldn’t be doing myself any favours by lying,” you explain simply, readying your stance again. “But as for the extent of my combat abilities, I don’t believe you would just take my word for it?”

        It wasn’t a plea of any sort, these words of yours. You know that you have to fight him and that if you can’t find a way to somehow end the battle in terms more advantageous to you, you’ll die a lot sooner than you were planning to go out. 

        Meaning it's time to get creative.

“You are correct,” Dooku says, lifting his nose towards you. “I will not take your word for it, [l/n].”

        A single shift of his foot and your eyes carefully watch as he launches himself for you. You can tell almost immediately that he leads with his speed and precision because his saber comes straight for your chest with so little mercy that you start thinking that maybe Palpatine hasn’t settled for you and has instead continued looking in Anakin's direction. You have just enough time to leap away, parrying the attack that comes seamlessly after to barely save you from being impaled by glowing red.

        Well, if Dooku wasn’t all that worried about possibly killing you, there’s a chance that Palpatine actually doesn’t care about your survivability throughout this war for him to continue manipulating after all. Not that you were expecting or hoping for such preferential treatment, but it would have been nice to be able to have something saving you from dying by Dooku’s hands.

        Honestly speaking, at least. 

        Carefully, practically tapping into every single lesson and practice you’ve ever had with Mace, Obi Wan, and Anakin combined , you manage to knock away every attempt at your life. To compensate for your disadvantaged capabilities, you do make sure to duck and weave around seeing as his strength seems to only add to his advantage and your disadvantage. 

“You are skilled,” Dooku comments, parrying one of your attacks to what seemed like an opening to his weaponless arm at first, “at running like a coward.”

        You dart back to create a large distance between you and the older man, not too fazed by such a comment. “It lets me live to fight another day, so I suppose I don’t mind.”

        Besides, your above average skills in saber combat means that you’ve long since accepted the fact that there were other things to worry more about when it comes to getting better at, such as your skills in running from death.

“A foolish answer for a foolish child wielding a lightsaber,” is his answer to that, darting forward to rain attacks on you again.

        You need a plan and you need one fast.

“Your master would be disappointed with such a performance,” he practically growls at you, knocking your main saber out of the way, practically leaving you defenseless had you not been anticipating such an attack. “Rather, you’re a Knight now, so I suppose that is incorrect of me to say.”

        But you were expecting such a move and you know your weaknesses. Mace made it a point to show you all those years ago and they remain with you to this day. 

        You’re no fool.

“My old master already knew ,” you bite back, mind already working away at a sort of plan. Not a plan to win, but a plan to at least give you some time.

        He thrusts forward, clearly aiming to burrow a hole through your sternum before you leap back and just out of the way. The Force gathers around your hands as you’re still airborne, and with a single thrust, you shove the man who’s already got a hand held out to counter the shove several paces back.

“At the very least, it seems your abilities in the Force seem noteworthy,” Dooku says, not at all bothered by the fact that you managed to shove him so far back despite him having guarded the move at least somewhat.

        When you land, the distance between you and him is far better for your odds, but that just means that now comes the hard part again of either winning or chasing him off. For that, you begin to guide the Force into you.

        And that’s when his eyes narrow.

        He certainly notices you doing something.

        His chatty character is suddenly gone in the wind and he darts forward to counter whatever it is he must feel that you’re doing. You can feel the Force circling within you in an amount just a little greater than what you had before, and when your sabers meet, you find it easier to actually hold your ground against his strength this time around.

“I see.”

        A questionable statement to suddenly say, that’s for sure, but you don’t bother with asking about it. Perhaps, if you could spare the time and energy to, you would, but you don’t have too much of either. The strength in your body allows you to finally knock back his own single saber, finally finding momentum in swinging towards opening after opening as you’re the one to drive him back this time.

        Step by step, yet he doesn’t seem at all bothered with being pushed back.

        In fact, he simply watches carefully.

“Kenobi told me you are the reason why Qui Gon Jinn is still alive today—” He leaps back and you follow closely behind, crashing [l/c] light against red.

        From what you remember, Qui Gon was his padawan when he was a Jedi. Did he care about the life of his old padawan? You’re not entirely sure what the answer to that question is, especially seeing as this guy is a pretty merciless Sith Lord.

“Why bring it up?” you manage to toss towards the older man.

        He remains quiet, and so you push on. Strike after strike, he continues to counter without answering your question. 

        And then it hits you that he must have a plan. There’s no way he would just dance around like this with a fight that seems to be pretty useless. A strike at your sabers causes you to leap back half a step, just to avoid stumbling along the ground, and he throws a hand out towards you, shoving you back even farther.

“General!”

        Winger’s voice fills the air, and turning to the side of the clearing, you see familiar purple hued armour and a blaster lifted. He lets a few bolts fly towards Dooku, but they bounce off of the Sith’s saber with ease, deflected straight towards you and Winger.

        However, even before the bolts bounced off the saber made of energy, Winger had already ducked to the side, swerving about, leaving all the deflected shots to hit nothing but the ground and unlucky foliage. The closest shot to Winger is one that hits the tree he slips behind, but judging by the satisfaction ebbing from Winger’s person and the laughter he lets out, he expected to let the shot hit the tree.

        Dooku looks less than pleased to see the clone trooper moving with practiced ease, turning his gaze to you as if you blame you for his own inability to kill the clone.

        And you smile at that.

        Of course you had taught a select few of your battalion how to increase their chances of dealing with enemies with sabers in a way that would allow them to not lose your life in the process. Winger, certainly excited to know that he could help you out on the field, drank the extra training up with glee. Talon, along with a few other commanding clones, also took the chance of learning such important and interesting skills.

        And clearly the training paid off because Winger is still alive.

“The Seperatist forces have been taken out, General!” Winger reports to you from behind the cover of his tree, and the way that Dooku barely reacts is troubling. 

        You nod your thanks to the report, but you keep your eyes on the very suspicious Sith Lord. Isn’t he at least pissed that he technically lost to you? Since he isn’t, doesn’t that mean he has something else up his sleeve?

        Leaving you barely enough time to breath, you realise that something is rushing for you from the side of the clearing, and worrying more for Winger’s safety now that he’s shown up to try his luck with reporting to you, you end up widening the distance between you and Dooku even more by shifting closer to Winger. Dooku remains stoic, not at all moving a muscle before the approaching thing breaks through the treeline.

        A speeder.

        His plan was to run.

        Dooku doesn’t say another word before leaping into the speeder, apparently fine with leaving. When Winger pulls the trigger of his blaster, the bolts that Dooku sends right back leave you happy that you didn’t bother trying to clear the distance because had it not been for your sabers, Winger would have ended up earning far more than just a single shot through his armour since he decided not to try the swerving tactic this time.

        He says nothing as he rises out of reach but you do see his eyes watching for as long as he’s able to. Which isn’t all that long before his figure disappears.

        But you can’t just let him run without trying to do something to stop him. Maybe if you tried hard enough and made use of what you know about him, you could really catch him.

        Maybe.

“Dooku is retreating, but let’s see if we can cut his escape off,” you decide, turning to Winger. “Let’s head out after him.”

“Understood.”

        And in the end, as if fate decided that you weren’t going to put a swift end to the Count who would terrorize the galaxy for the next few years, he’s gone like the slippery Sith Lord he is.

        You knew to expect as much, but it doesn’t stop the sting from appearing within your heart. At the very least, what you have to show for it is another successful campaign and a planet now free from Seperatist control.

        At the very least … 

“General,” calls a voice, and when you look up from the data screen in front of you, you see Winger standing at the door. “You have a comm request.”

        Furrowing your brows, you stand to face the clone. “From who? The Council?”

        You’d sent a report to them already. They know you failed to capture Dooku but at least successfully freed up the planet from Seperatist occupation.

“From the Supreme Chancellor,” Winger answers simply, eyes holding a seriousness befitting of his duty-filled time at the moment.

        Oh. 

        Great.

“Alright. Let’s get going,” you promise the trooper before looking to Talon. “You’ll be fine on your own?”

“Of course, General,” is his simple response, though you do wish that it had been a bit more complex so that you could put off whatever this call from Palpatine is about.

        After having tussled with Dooku, you can’t imagine what Palpatine might want with you… 

        Evenso, Talon allows Winger to escort you along before standing at attention at the door to the room you’ll presumably be left alone in. As you step inside, he offers you a bit of a look that almost looks as though he feels bad for you, but you step forward. 

        You also feel quite bad for yourself, so you find it easy to repeat the gesture back to Winger, earning a comforting smile rather than his flat face of professionalism.

        And inside, there certainly is a hologram of Palpatine.

        Perhaps you could even use this annoyance to your advantage to make Palpatine think you can be enticed to the Dark Side. Since it’s a very real irritation, it might work. Not that you know the extent of how much he can feel from you, anyway. At the very least, you could let it slip into your appearance just a bit.

“Chancellor,” you greet, striding closer to the hologram in the room with a nodding greeting. “Is there something troubling enough to contact me?”

“Nothing troubling me in particular,” Palpatine answers with an all too simple shake of his head. “Though, I had heard that you encountered Count Dooku during your assignment and found it troubling.”

        You easily find his play pretending of concern troubling.

“Yes, I encountered him, but I couldn’t capture him,” you explain. “We clashed and that was all.”

“I see,” the old man says, thinking about something , it looks like. “The Count must be quite the adversary. He is not one to be taken lightly of.”

“The Jedi know this,” you say, nodding.

        At that, Palpatine frowns. “Yet they sent you? Could they not have sent another to handle such a troubling enemy?”

        You narrow your eyes at such a comment, mostly due to the fact that the comment sounds a bit too much like a condescending one. You know he’s telling the truth and there’s no sense in hiding behind a cover of a lie that speaks of you being someone weaker than Dooku, but to hear it in such a way… 

        It’s a bit rude. You still had your pride as a Jedi, after all. Regardless of that fact, you let the annoyance shine through on your face since there’s no real reason to hide any supposed weakness from him. Seeing as Palpatine can’t sense your emotions, through the holo transmission or otherwise, giving him a taste of something darker than a typical Jedi within you is bound to do some good in keeping him focused on you.

        As long as he keeps his eyes and hands off of Anakin, you can do this much.

“It is true that I’m not very well suited to handle someone like the Count,” you confess carefully, staring into the flickering image of his eyes. “Had I been stronger I might’ve been able to defeat Dooku and capture him.”

        You lower your head into a bit of a bow towards the man who technically outranks you. “My apologies. It appears that my training is insufficient in handling the assignments I’ve been given.”

        Though, the Council certainly didn’t mind that you’d failed to defeat Dooku and it’s not like you mind too much yourself seeing as detaining him now might throw everything out of the loop anyway.

        But Palpatine doesn’t need to know about that. As long as he just knows you’re troubled by something, he’ll drink it all up and remain satisfied with bothering you for the moment rather than Anakin.

        And when you lift your eyes to the sight of him, there’s a flicker of something in the way he stares at you that tells you he bought it at least somewhat.

“Worry not, [l/n]. I am certain that you will deliver the Count to justice in due time,” Palpatine reassures you, definitely causing the hairs at the back of your neck to stand. “But in order to do that, you must survive. It would be a terrible loss to see such a promising Jedi such as yourself falling in this war.”

        His expression seems too kind to be true, and you know it is.

“Thank you for the concern, Chancellor. I promise to perform better,” you declare easily, “for the Order and the Republic.”

        But you can see the way your hands tighten. Performing better means to be a better General and a better Jedi. Be a better combatant as well, to that extent.

        Yet combat and the like isn’t your speciality and you’re only managing to get by with enough tactician skills cultivated from your careful Jedi training. Were you going to hit a wall soon? You’re not sure. You remember your goal of getting to the same level as Anakin and Obi Wan and…

        Well, now it just feels like a pipe dream. A very far, far pipe dream. You can feel something building within you— a worry— but you try not to let it swallow you. Especially not when the Force around you shifts a bit too much for your liking, even in time like this when it might be good to show it off.

        It feels uncomfortable and you dislike the feeling as well as the thought.

“Yes, of course,” Palpatine agrees, almost holding the sight of something swirling in his eyes. Though, that could just be a trick of your eyes. “The Republic depends on you, after all.”

        His words echo in your mind. “Depends on you,” you can’t help but repeat in your mind. Sure, the galaxy could depend on Anakin because he was the Chosen One— Strong and reliable and so easy to trust— so there was nothing wrong with that. But with you?

        Now that you think about it, can you really fill that place you’ve pushed Anakin out of?

        … 

“I will keep that in mind, Chancellor,” is what you decide to say, nodding to the man as you try to store the thoughts away.

        You have other things to worry about. Such as how long he’ll take the bait for and for how long you can keep that bait up. After all, Anakin’s livelihood is depending on you to do this and to do this well, even if he doesn’t know that.

        It’s good that he doesn’t know.

Chapter Text

        Certainly, the fact that you’re able to communicate with Obi Wan and Anakin without anything but the Force is very convenient. 

“We need reinforcements and it would be preferable if they come sooner rather than later,” Obi Wan tells you through the link in your head. “Have our requests not come through?”

“They haven’t,” you answer simply to no one but the voice in your head.

“Great!” Anakin adds through what sounds like gritted teeth, almost, and you get the feeling he’d barked at you just before cutting down a droid or something. “At this rate, any help would be nice!”

        Hopefully, being able to contact these two hasn’t changed anything major, but you try not to worry about that right now. 

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message,” you tell the two partial connections in your head. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“Many thanks, [y/n]!”

“Yeah, thanks!”

        And then, you let the bundles unwind.

“It seems they need reinforcements over there,” you translate, peeling away the sarcasm and the bite Anakin always adds to his reports. Your eyes wander their way to Yoda and Mace across the comm table from you. “Their communications seem to be having some issues. They’ve been requesting help for a while, apparently.”

“Troubling to hear, that is,” Yoda says, face lowered slightly as he shakes his head. “Help we will send, but at the moment, send them we cannot.”

        And you know that you shouldn’t be intruding on plot points as important as this one with Obi Wan and Anakin in Christophsis, the very battle Ahsoka should be revealed in, but the itch inside of you calls for you to offer your assistance. 

“What if you send me?” you wonder hopefully. “I know my men are bolstering Master Billaba’s numbers right now, but I’m at least free.”

        Because you know that even adding one more Jedi to any battle can raise the chances of success that much more.

        psh. thnk

“Masters? You called for me?” says a young voice and you turn with the other two towards the said door.

        When your eyes settle, the expected young Ahsoka Tano strolls in, bowing to everyone in succession before she reaches you last. You nod in return, eyes watching her carefully for a moment before looking towards the two inquisitively. Even though you know who she is, you need to act like you don’t.

“This is Ahsoka Tano, the padawan we’re entrusting to Skywalker,” Mace tells you and your lips curl into a bit of an excited smile. 

        Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed as your ex-mentor raises a brow, only for you to shift your smile into innocence rather than knowing joy. 

        It’s time for a topic change, you decide.

“I’m assuming Padawan Tano will be sent to Anakin on Christophsis, and seeing as they both need some extra help, should I join as well?” you offer hopefully.

        Because the other option would be to wait at the Temple for some other assignment and risk catching Palpatine’s eyes for another weird chat. Even though being on the field so often makes you exhausted to the point of wanting to collapse for days, the longer and more time you’re out for, the less you have to deal with from his end.

“Very well,” Mace says, sighing. “Seeing as reinforcements will take some time, it may be best for the two of you to head there first.”

“Then we’ll leave at the earliest time possible,” you reassure, looking towards Ahsoka. “I take it that you’re ready to head out?”

“Yes, Knight [l/n],” Ahsoka says in agreement, a smile playing on her lips.

        Yoda sends the two of you off without wasting any more time and you’re strolling through the halls with Ahsoka at your side in silence.

“So, you’re Knight [l/n], the one everyone avoids most of the time,” Ahsoka begins, filling in the silence, “right?”

        Partially correct because you know that these days, it seems that most people have gotten used to the emptiness that swirls around you. At the very least, people will strike conversations with you on occasion. Not often, of course, but more than before.

“Yes, that’s me,” is your answer. “Seeing as most find my presence a bit unnerving, after all.”

        You look towards the young Togruta. “Does it bother you?”

“It’s… strange,” she tells you after some thought, but she doesn’t move away from you or anything. She remains at your side, walking regularly. “But there’s got to be a reason why Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi don’t mind you. Right?”

        She turns her head, revealing to you her pale blue eyes. “And Master Windu and Master Yoda clearly trust you. I hear the Council usually has nothing but praise of you too. There’s definitely more to you than meets the eye, in that case.”

        She stares at you, but not with the same kind of curious intrigue as other stares you’ve received before, and a warm feeling rises from your chest. She’s certainly a different kind of person and you can’t help but feel glad for that.

“Thank you, Padawan Tano,” you say with a smile stretching over your lips. “It’s nice to hear someone so fearlessly speaking good about my presence outside of those who actually know me.”

        Ahsoka nods. “Feel free to call me Ahsoka then. I have a feeling we’ll be working together a lot?”

        And that she may be right about. Her confidence is striking, but in a good and refreshing way.

“Then feel free to call me [y/n], if you’d prefer that to anything more formal,” you offer in kind and the girl swells at your side.

“I would prefer that, thank you,” Ahsoka tells you quite happily, her chest puffed out just a bit.

        The two of you share a smile.

        Yes, she certainly is a good match with Anakin now that you’ve finally met her.

——

—

        You can feel the ship landing before hearing the okay signal from the clone pilot, relaying to you that it’s about time you leave the little shuttle with Ahsoka. Standing, you give yourself just enough time to make your way to the lowering door as sunlight filters through the crack that’s widening.

        Once the ramp is down, you step out to see Anakin and Obi Wan more or less surprised by the sight of you.

“What? Not happy to see me?” you ask with a teasing tone, stepping down the ramp with Ahsoka following closely behind.

“That’s not it,” Anakin answers quickly, almost sounding insulted by such words. “Where are the reinforcements?”

“They’re coming. It’s just that I was free to move out immediately,” you explain, flickering your eyes towards Ahsoka at your side. You gesture to her. “And, clearly, I’ve come along with someone.”

“Yes, a youngling, or…” Obi Wan begins, eyeing Ahsoka curiously, “the new padawan, I take it?”

“Who are you supposed to be?” asks Anakin curiously as Artoo beeps a string of sounds nearby. From what you can tell, the droid sure seems excited to see someone new.

“I’m Ahsoka,” she answers. “Master Yoda sent me. I was told to tell you to get back to the Jedi Temple as soon as you can. There’s an emergency.”

        Yeah, an emergency you barely managed to keep yourself out of. 

        You’d only gotten word of this supposed mission on the way to Christophsis. Apparently, Jabba’s son had been kidnapped, and you, knowing very sure that this is quite the important plot event for Anakin and Ahsoka, didn’t feel right to say yes in accepting it even if Palpatine requested that you may be the right person for the job.

        And perhaps you were considering your specific skill set which made such good use of the Force, but the assignment just isn’t for you.

        So you tossed it over to the newly established Master-Padawan relationship with the excuse that an assignment like this would be better as a first assignment rather than tossing them straight into the warfront. Ahsoka didn’t seem to mind the idea and neither did Yoda, meaning you’re safe from a possibly plot heavy assignment for another day. 

        After all, if you didn’t make use of the things you know like Palpatine does, you’ll be sorely outplayed. Best to start pulling strings wherever you can, when you can.

        Though, you still do have to explain the situation to Palpatine. The ride over didn’t allow for anything like that. Though, once the situation on Christophsis is handled, you should have a chance to contact the old man.

        And you certainly can’t wait for that … 

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in a bit of an emergency right here,” Anakin quips in return, quite unhappy with the sudden call off the warfront back to the Temple.

“Yes, which is why we requested for reinforcements. But if they’ll be delayed, I don’t believe there is much else for us to do but wait,” Obi Wan continues, glancing his blue eyes in your direction. “Considering our unreliable communication and the fact that [y/n] is here with us now, it will be difficult to contact Master Yoda…”

        Ahsoka doesn’t seem to question the mention of how you being here fits into the whole “loss of communications” thing and you’re thankful. At the moment, only those of the Council, Anakin, and your own 983rd know about it, so if you can help it, leaving it as a trade secret of sorts might do you more good than bad, especially against the Siths and the Separatists. 

        Though, you’re sure that with Ahsoka becoming Anakin’s padawan, the secret won’t remain a secret in front of her for very long. Especially not with Anakin’s notorious streak of basically announcing to the world that he’s married to Padmé everytime he has the chance to. If that’s any indication of how well Anakin will keep your secret, you know to expect one more person to know about it sooner or later. 

“Maybe you can relay a signal through the cruiser that just dropped us off,” Ahsoka suggests.

“Things aren’t looking very good up there, so if we want to do that,” you add on, nodding to the two men, “it’d be best if we do that as soon as possible.”

        And there’s not a single word spoken to reject your comment. Soon enough, the entire ensemble is gathered around a comm table with a hologram of a clone who should be up somewhere high above you.

“We're under attack by Separatist warships but I'll try to make contact with the Jedi Temple for you,” promises the clone. “Stand by.”

        And then he blips out, probably to work out the connection between here and Master Yoda.

        All the while, in the silence full of eyes glancing about, you do look up from the dim table to see Obi Wan and Anakin looking towards you. Their Signatures certainly betray a sense of elation, and when you offer the two a small smile to return the feelings, the emotion nearly triples, or something like that.

        Before either of them say anything, however, if they were planning to say anything at all, the sound of a connection being made on the comm table rings throughout the air before a holographic image of Yoda appears. Your eyes flicker immediately towards the small figure.

“Master Kenobi, glad Ahsoka and [l/n] found you, I am,” says the image atop the table.

“Master Yoda, we are trapped here, and vastly outnumbered,” Obi Wan explains to the senior Jedi. “We are in no position to go anywhere or do anything. Our support ships have all been destroyed.”

“Send reinforcements to you, we will,” Yoda promises once more, but his image flickers rather violently, and by the time he finishes speaking whether or not he meant to say anything more, he flickers out completely.

        They were right about the spotty communication. Things are certainly pretty bad out here.

“Master Yoda? Master Yoda?” Obi Wan calls out towards the table, but it’s to no avail.

        The clone aboard the cruiser that brought both you and Ahsoka here returns into view. “We've lost the transmission, sir.”

        Oh boy.

        And then, to make matters worse, another clone appears looking none too happy. “We have to leave orbit immediately. More enemy ships have just arrived.”

“We'll get back to you as soon as we can.”

        The image flickers out and your eyes wander their way upwards towards the atmosphere. It’s not like you can see anything from down here, least of all the battle happening up there, but you do hope things end up well for the ones having less luck than you currently have.

“Well, I guess we'll have to hold out a little longer,” Anakin’s voice declares before you lower your gaze. You see his blue eyes staring back at you. “With [y/n] here, we should be able to manage better than before.”

        Kind words, you have to admit. 

“ Hopefully I’ll be of some help,” is what you say, offering a meek smile towards the confident young man.

        Obi Wan, seeming a bit relieved to at least have you around, finally turns his attention to the young Togruta who’s pretty much been ignored this entire time.

“My apologies, young one. It's time for a proper introduction,” Obi Wan declares, striding closer expectantly.

“I'm the new Padawan learner,” she answers brightly. “I'm Ahsoka Tano.”

“I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi, your new master,” Obi Wan says in return, and you find yourself amused at the sight.

“I'm at your service, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka begins before turning to Anakin at your side and pointing, “but I'm afraid I've actually been assigned to Master Skywalker.”

“What?” Anakin answers with the grace of a boulder tumbling down a hill and you can’t help the snicker that slips past your lips. 

        That earns you a bump to the shoulder and a whining mutter of, “this isn’t funny , [y/n].”

        You’re sure he sees the grin you offer to the young man, earning you a deep and scrambled frown, of sorts.

“No, no, no,” Anakin repeats over and over as he turns his attention to Ahsoka, stepping closer to her. “There must be some mistake.”

        Meanwhile, Obi Wan watches the scene carefully, and when you stop at his side after having trailed behind Anakin, you can see a faint glimmer of interest and amusement in the gaze that glances back at you. It seems someone else finds this sight every bit as funny as you do, fully aware that if the current scene of bickering is anything like a prediction of what’s to come with these two together, you’re sure Obi Wan’s already expecting quite the long Master-Padawan relationship very close to… this.

        Clearly, he seems to think them an interesting match.

“We’ll have to sort this out later,” Obi Wan says, finally cutting in. He must have noticed that you weren’t going to do anything to stop the fight yourself. “It won’t be too long before those droids figure out a way around our cannons.”

        Ah, right, the battle. You’re going to need Obi Wan to catch you up to speed about the situation you have to work with at some point.

“I’ll check on Rex in the lookout post,” Anakin declares, already turning away and done with this entire padawan business.

“You’d better take her with you,” Obi Wan suggests after him, placing a hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder.

        Anakin, though rather begrudgingly, seems to accept the proposition and Ahsoka follows after her new Master. It’s a bit disheartening to see Anakin so cold to Ahsoka, but you know there’s not much you can do but let them warm up to each other in their own time. And considering Anakin’s clear uncertainty with having to teach a youngling and his general tendency to not be too warm with new people, that may actually take some time.

        But they have time.

“Did you know about this before arriving as well, [y/n]?” Obi Wan wonders aloud, eyes wandering their way to you as the pair trudges their way along. “You seemed to be having fun, watching that entire ordeal play out.”

“The same could be said about you. You seemed to be having quite a lot of fun,” is your smart answer. “And yes, I knew about it.”

        Obi Wan, with a smile barely faltering, looks up towards the two again. “Do you think this was a good decision on the part of the Council?”

        From your spot, you can see the way he wears his fatigue on his shoulders— deep and heavy— but that’s no different than a lot of other Jedi you’ve seen during this war so far.

“I think it’ll do him some good. Maybe having Ahsoka around will help him learn some lessons you haven’t been able to teach him yet,” you answer. “And besides, I think it’s a good thing that Ahsoka didn’t get paired with you.”

        That seems to surprise him. Enough for his eyes to quickly dart towards yours. “Why do you think that?”

“Because you look as though you need to worry about yourself a little more,” you answer, lifting a hand to gesture to his general figure. “I don’t need the Force to tell me you’ve been working yourself too hard.”

“We all must do what we can in this war. You know that,” Obi Wan nearly whispers, and for that single sentence alone, he seems to allow his weariness to show.

        For that single sentence, he seems to let you see his weakness. It’s a privilege he seems to not mind you holding, you’ve noticed.

“And you won’t be ending any wars when you’re too tired, General Kenobi,” you toss back at him, smiling all the same. “Whatever plan we’re going to go with here, I hope you take your state into account.”

        Obi Wan sighs, shaking his head. Yet, despite such an answer, there’s a warmth in the way his Signature seems to wind around you blissfully and comfortably. You allow yours to meet with his and he relaxes so much more.

“We shall see about that when Anakin and Ahsoka return,” Obi Wan decides, sounding as if he were admitting defeat to your words. “Should I brief you on the situation here? Assuming that you haven’t been already, of course.”

“I’ll need that briefing. Thanks.”

        The smile he offers is downright heart melting and certainly not the sort one expects to receive right after asking for a wartime check in, but you suppose that it must be doing well for his troubles to see you here ready to help. You can only assume that much, at least. 

        You can’t imagine there must be anything else for such a smile.

“And that should be all,” is how Obi Wan finishes off his very, very quick and efficient catch-up report to you.

“It looks like there’s a lot to consider out here,” you state aloud, finding the situation very precarious. 

        But you’re not all that worried. With Anakin and his usual flair, you’re sure things will turn out well. At least, that’s usually the case when it comes to these sorts of issues in The Clone Wars.

“Are you worried?” Obi Wan wonders, eyeing you inquisitively, and you offer the man a smile. 

“Not with the ever-successful Anakin on the case,” you offer with a hum.

        Obi Wan nods, but he doesn’t seem to smile as brightly as usual. In fact, some of his warmth seems to disappear, leaving you to wonder why and what just happened.

“You have quite the faith in Anakin,” Obi Wan murmurs just loudly enough for you to hear in a rather simple manner.

        Does he… not share the feeling?

“He told me a little while ago that most of the time, he gets called in and he handles the job pretty easily,” you answer, remember what Anakin had said before. “I don’t see a reason not to trust him to handle things.”

“‘A little while ago,’” Obi Wan repeats, sounding oddly surprised, and no sooner does his grey blue eyes flicker towards you. “I wasn’t aware that you two had an assignment together recently.”

        Is he normally aware of this stuff? Though, now that you think about it, he is on the Council. He must be privy to this sort of information on assignments and the like.

“No, we haven’t seen each other in person lately,” you explain, keeping your voice low. “We’ve been catching up within the Force Bond. Chatting and seeing each other and such.”

        For a split second, you feel a sting in your chest, but the only issue with the sensation that it feels foreign. The moment you furrow your brows though, lifting a hand upwards to where you’d felt the sting strangely centred near your heart, it disappears.

        You remember something like this happening before. In the Gardens, you believe, with Anakin that day you finally confessed to saving Shmi. 

        But whatever that had been about… You can’t say for sure that having it happen again did much to explain what that feeling is. Feeling feelings that clearly aren’t your own… That doesn’t sound right.

“I see,” Obi Wan says, certainly sounding a bit bummed out about something.

“Is something bothering you?” you ask, a bit worried about Obi Wan.

        But all the man does is keep to his stubborn silence with a shake of his head. When he turns to you, eyes meeting your gaze, he does offer a smile that feels more like a distraction, if you really think about it. A distraction for you.

“Do not worry about me, [y/n],” he reassures you, and just like that, you’re not sure if you want to press on.

        So you don’t. You choose not to say anything more and you lose your chance to ask at all, even if you really wanted to. There’s no chance to reverse your choice of inaction because the strategy meeting begins. After all, there’s still the battle against the Separatist forces on this planet to settle.

“If that shield's gonna be such a problem, why don't we just take it out?” Ahsoka wonders aloud in the middle of the meeting.

“Easier said than done,” Rex says, eyeing the young Togruta.

“Well, I, for one,” Anakin begins somewhat awkwardly, “agree with her.”

        Not that you’re surprised. Charging right into enemy lines like that sounds right up Anakin’s alley.

“All you’d need to do is get to the shield generator and destroy it. It’s definitely do-able, I’d think,” you add, tossing a nod towards Anakin— a gesture he seems to eat up. He must appreciate your support for such a dangerous and critical plan.

“Right, then,” Obi Wan says, clearly skeptical about such a simple sounding plan but apparently running along with it as if to humour them. “Maybe you two can… tiptoe through the enemy lines and solve this particular problem together?”

        He looks up towards the Master-Padawan duo, raising a brow.

“Can do, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka promises quickly, not at all fazed by the sarcastic play of Obi Wan’s words.

        Anakin, vexed with Ahsoka’s behavior, leans forward. “ I'll decide what we do.”

        You can see the way Obi Wan tosses a momentary glance towards you before looking at the holographic map spread out before him.

“If the rest of our forces can engage them here,” Obi Wan says, pointing to a place on the map close to where you are now, “you two might have a chance to get through their lines undetected. Here.”

“They won't have much time. The droids far outnumber us even with the addition of General [l/n] to our forces,” Cody notes, eyes looking to the map. “So our ability to street fight is limited without the use of heavy cannons.”

        Rex nods in agreement to his fellow trooper’s words. “They’ll march forward under the protection of their shield until they are right on top of our cannons.”

        He pauses before adding, “then they'll blow them away.”

        Certainly a difficult situation. When Anakin and Ahsoka blow the generator, you’ll definitely need those cannons to handle the forces that are left out in the open. Meaning, those cannons need to be protected for as long as possible.

“We'll figure out a way,” Ahsoka offers without revealing a single doubt that may or may not be present in her mind. “Come on, Master, let's go.”

        Anakin, without needing another word, follows after Ahsoka after flashing through a myriad of emotions on his face while muttering, “if we survive this, Snips, you and I are gonna have a talk.”

        You watch two leave with a fondness rising in your heart. To think that they start off so rocky before growing so close by the end of it all.

“They make quite a pair, don’t they, Generals?” Rex wonders aloud and you can’t help but think that Rex must be worried.

        Well, seeing as the Council pushed a child into Anakin’s hands, and a rather feisty yet capable one at that, you can’t blame Rex for sounding so troubled.

“Do you think they’ll be able to succeed?” Cody asks, looking between you and Obi Wan.

“I’m sure they’ll get the job done,” is your confident answer. “One way or another, Anakin ends up doing what he says he’ll do.”

        Though, from what you hear, “doing it” usually involves incredible showmanship and a few explosions, or something like that. Hopefully, seeing as this is more of a stealth mission for those two, it won’t have to come down to either of those.

“And they’d better,” Obi Wan adds, eyeing the map at your side. “If they can't turn off that shield generator before it reaches the heavy cannons… there'll be no escape for any of us.”

        The grim tone leads you to reach out to Obi Wan's arm reassuringly because that might be stretching things. You know things will turn out right and to do wish you could comfort him. The action seems welcomed, if the small smile on Obi Wan’s face is any indication. Something about him seemed a bit tense earlier, but now with more time to really enjoy each other’s presence, even if a battle is to come soon, it seems like he’s… alright.

“Have some faith in them, Obi Wan,” you say softly, looking at the older man. “Ahsoka seems like quite the capable padawan learner already and it’s not like they'll let their rocky start get in the way of their assignment. I’m sure of it.”

        A bit of his tension melts away at your words.

“Well, seeing as you have quite the high impression of Ahsoka already, I see that we have nothing to worry about after all,” Obi Wan says, voice light as his hand lifts to his beard. “I am happy that you’re here to provide support, in any case. I’m sure I could have handled it on my own, but…”

        And you know that he could have. After all, there wasn’t anyone with a role like yours in the original run of this event. Still, to be told that your presence is welcome and treasured makes it all the more better to your ears.

“Happy to be here then, my friend,” you say, using his signature phrase back at him. 

        He brightens so obviously at the sound of your words that surely any other Jedi Master would be a bit more than suspicious towards Obi Wan, before— 

        The sound of someone clearing their throat fills the air and you turn to see Cody nodding to the both of you. You can only assume that it was Cody who’d made the sound, not Rex as it seems like he’d rather remain quiet.

“We should prepare for the enemy, Generals,” Cody suggests, eyeing both of you.

        You can see the way the corner of Cody’s lips quirk upwards when he meets Obi Wan’s gaze, but you’re not entirely sure of what it means. You do catch the hint of interest in the air from Cody’s direction, but that could really mean just about anything. However, Obi Wan seems to read something bad from Cody’s look as the older Jedi doesn’t seem too happy considering the frown he takes on.

        But there’s no time to wonder. You’re on a time crunch now.

“Cody is right. We can’t let Anakin steal the show,” you say in agreement. “Let’s make some preparations and be sure we don’t fall behind.”

        Obi Wan, after recovering from a fluster of some sort, nods. “Agreed.”

Cody's POV

        The General is acting strange. It’s plain to see and Cody knows that the smile he involuntarily allowed to spread to his lips when he broke apart their little “alone time” was instantly understood by his own General. General [l/n], on the other hand, seemed to think nothing about it. Or they didn’t understand what had happened.

        Cody doesn’t know enough about General [l/n] to know for sure.

        The way Kenobi’s eyes consistently wander their way to a certain person all the time; the way his expression never fails to soften at the sight of them, especially when they were looking back at Kenobi; and the way it always looks like Kenobi wants something from them… the General of the 983rd… 

        Cody can’t say he’s very well-versed in these sorts of things, but he certainly has seen this behavior before. Especially when in cases where a particularly beautiful civilian walks by the men, guiding their otherwise duty-filled eyes to something like a distraction before an awed silence prevails.

        Most of the time, yes, his brothers and even himself will stop and stare in awe at the Jedi. That’s only because there’s just something so mystical about them that anyone, even without the “Force” or whatever, can tell that there’s something different about them. All it takes is but a simple moment to just stand there.

        And to stare and to think. 

        Jedi aren’t like clones and neither are they like any other kind of being in the galaxy, at least that’s from what Cody’s noticed. They’re a different sort of being that lives and breathes a kind of life governed by things that aren’t bound by the rules of logic or the physical world. They seem to look at each other as if they were brothers and sisters— sometimes at least— just like the clones do, but it’s so different at the same time.

        And Cody says “sometimes” because Kenobi doesn’t look at anyone the same way he does towards [l/n]. There’s a different way he looks towards General Skywalker too, but that’s a different one Cody hasn’t been able to place yet.

        The eyes Kenobi seems to stare at [l/n] with, however, he feels as though he knows a little bit about.

“I’ll see you around then, Obi Wan,” [l/n] offers to the copper haired General. “Stay safe.”

“You as well, [y/n],” Kenobi answers back without a moment of hesitation and eyes that seem to commit their image into his mind until the end of time, almost.

        Cody watches the two part— Kenobi staying with him for the moment, though he knows not to expect the full battle to be spent at Kenobi’s side considering how often the Jedi Master General rushes headlong into a battle in a way that clones can’t realistically follow, while [l/n] follows Rex. Even though their own battalion isn’t here, they seem fine with taking on the command of other battalions. 

        Something about the two of them sparks a curiosity of sorts within Cody. He finds himself remembering something his brothers have noted aloud sometime during the earlier point of the war about the Jedi.

        “They don’t keep attachments, apparently,” said one trooper that Cody doesn’t quite remember the identity of. He only remembers that he wasn’t a 212th trooper. Just a clone he overheard one time.

        “If they can help it, they don’t have emotional attachments or anything! Then again, they seem so emotionless most of the time, so I guess that isn’t all that strange.”

        And here Kenobi is, clearly looking as though he were feeling nothing but emotions.

“Come along, Commander Cody,” Kenobi declares, glancing his grey-blue eyes towards him and breaking into Cody’s train of thought. “There’s plenty to be done before the next fight.”

“Yes sir.”

        Whatever the case may be, Cody keeps his mouth shut about it all. He decides to store it away deep in his mind, even. This is his commanding officer he’s thinking about. Whatever thing Kenobi has with [l/n] is more Jedi business than wartime business, and so he has no issue with not dealing with it right now.

        Though, he does wish for Kenobi to focus a bit more on the war than on [l/n]’s departing figure. Cody may be alright with not questioning this behavior and he certainly won’t be reporting this kind of thing to anyone. Not that he would want to, anyway. Still, he knows for a fact that not everyone will be as kind as him, so his General better improve at hiding it all. 

        Cody just hopes that Kenobi won’t let himself get caught , is all.

        The battle is a mess, and that’s putting it lightly.

“Where’s General Kenobi, General?” Rex asks you, blasting a droid before he shifts closer your way.

“Nearby,” you answer, managing to deflect a bolt right back to the droid that’d sent it at you. “Let’s fall back. We’ll meet with Obi Wan along the way.”

        If Rex is uncertain with your order, he doesn’t show it past his helmet.

“Fall back!” he orders the other troopers around.

        You make sure to remain on the back end of the retreat, seeing as you’re a bit better suited to blocking the blaster shots from hitting the troopers rushing along. You follow them with Rex following closely along before you feel the prickle of the Force being used and see a familiar blue light past the dust filled air.

“They're right behind us, sir!” Rex reports aloud to Obi Wan who’s so easily found. “They wiped out most of my unit. We had to pull out of there.”

        An explosion shakes the surrounding area, filling your ears with the sound, and you guide the two men along to some cover because if you know them well, they’ll chatter their way along even in a rain of blaster fire.

“The shield has almost reached the heavy cannons,” Obi Wan states, and with eyes watching the advancement of the enemy lines, you squint.

“We won’t be able to keep them from advancing,” you tell Obi Wan.

“Move the troops back to the heavy cannons,” Obi Wan decides, nodding to you and Rex. “Do everything you can to protect them. I'll delay the droids.”

“But…” Rex begins, but you pat him on the shoulder.

“Let’s get going,” you urge, angling your saber to deflect a shot being made at you. “He’ll handle his end, we handle ours.”

        Besides, you trust that he’ll survive whatever he has in mind. Obi Wan Kenobi is quite a difficult fellow to kill, something you know for a fact.

        You duck forward with Rex, and just in time as well before you hear the sound of a lightsaber being thrusted into metal, no doubt a droid that Obi Wan impaled before it could come after the two of you. The troopers continue showering a barrage of shots around you and Rex as you’re racing back along the progress the fight previously had made.

        If you weren’t sure about leaving Obi Wan to do whatever it is he’s planning to do, the reassuring tap to your shield is enough. A single hint of needing a connection rings for a split second before you’re quick to connect both his mind and yours.

“You told me to figure out a plan that better suited our odds,” you hear Obi Wan whispering to you. “Well, I think I’ve got one.”

“And we’ll see how good a plan it is soon enough,” you toss back in a mutter. “Stay safe.”

        The connection melts away at the sensation of Obi Wan’s understanding as you offer a reassuring nod to Rex and now Cody, who’s joined your group.

“We need to keep the cannons safe,” you say to the two. “Gather the men there!”

“Understood!”

        And it’s just as you expected when the number of the droids quickly start to outnumber the troopers on your side. Even as you’re doing your best to block as many shots and slash away every droid in your path, men continue falling all around you.

        So you quickly wind your mind with Anakin’s as impatience begins to gnaw at your senses.

“Any chances of that shield being knocked out anytime soon?” you wonder aloud, catching the attention of curious helmeted faces looking towards you, but you pay them no mind. 

“Working on it!” you hear Anakin answer, sounding a bit irritated. Not at you, but in general. “Did you—”

        Catching the front end of his words tells you that he’s turned his attention to Ahsoka. Probably. 

        And hopefully the shield generator as well.

        As if Anakin had heard those words, you watch as the red hued wall seemingly begins to fall away as if it were withering. The relief that falls over your shoulders is immense, but you know better than to let yourself relax because now is when you’re to mount your offensive response.

“Get those cannons ready, men!” you call to the troopers, rising up from your momentary cover. 

        With the combined strength of the tanks and what later looks to be reinforcements, this front is won pretty easily. Based on a report from Obi Wan’s side, it looks like the enemy general has also been taken care of.

“General!” calls a clone’s voice, but they way they say it seems familiar to you. That and the fact that the presence that flickers into your mind also seems familiar, you have a feeling you know whose voice this is.

        Turning around, you see that you’re right. Talon, in all his purple accented glory, has a hand waving towards you with Winger following closely behind him.

“I’m glad General Billaba let you come after me, but you’ve missed most of the action,” you say to your second-in-command, gesturing to the amounts of broken droids on the ground.

“A pity then, eh?” Talon says, smiling all the while before he lets his eyes wander the field. “But it looks like the 212th and 501st did a fine job, as always. Good to see that without us, you can still lead some fine men.”

        He earns a shake of your head for that, something Winger laughs lowly at the sight of.

“Anyway, it looks like General Yoda is with General Kenobi,” Talon relays to you, nodding behind him towards a gunship sitting on the ground, empty. 

        It would be good to check in on them, even if they didn’t call for you specifically. You can only assume that they might just think you’ll come without being called.

        A single nod is passed to Talon for that, and without any issue in understanding your silent response, he falls into place behind you with Winger as you board the ship. The fly isn’t at all too long before you’re able to meet Yoda, who’s not a hologram this time, and Obi Wan.

“Whatever your plan was, it was a good one,” you offer to the copper haired man as you approach them, earning a chuckle.

“If I’m to earn thanks even for a simple plan of stalling, I suppose I should ready myself for plenty of praise,” he responds cheekily.

        A pleasant smile spreads over your cheeks, but before you can say anything in return for such a comment, a familiar presence seems to appear in the close vicinity. Looking up, you see that Anakin and Ahsoka have finally arrived back from their mission.

        When their gunship lands, you can consider that the gang has all finally arrived.

“Master Obi Wan. Master Yoda,” Anakin greets before his eyes look towards you. “Knight [l/n].”

        Raising an inquisitive brow towards his cheeky tone, you wonder just why the two men you have closest to you seem to enjoy playing around so much. 

        Yoda hums, staring straight at Anakin. “Trouble, you have, with your new Padawan, I hear.”

        You watch as the newly created pairing share a glance towards each other and even Talon offers you a curious glance. Seeing as he seems rather curious about the whole Jedi Padawan business, you’d best expect a question about it later.

“I was explaining the situation to Master Yoda,” Obi Wan explains to Anakin, who seems a bit surprised to hear that.

“Really?” Anakin wonders aloud, not at all sounding too troubled anymore.

        Someone sounds a bit unsure about kicking Ahsoka out now… 

“If not ready for a Padawan, you are,” Yoda begins carefully, slowly guiding his attention towards Obi Wan, “then perhaps, Obi-Wan, we can…”

“No, wait a minute,” Anakin cuts in, even going as far as stepping forward. “I admit Ahsoka is a little rough around the edges. But with a great deal of training, and patience… she might amount to something.”

        You can see the way his eyes flicker up at you, staring almost as if he were watching for your approval as well. Not that he needs anything of the sort from you, least of all since Yoda is here to give the final say, but you do offer him a reassuring nod.

        After all, you have the convenient thing that is hindsight. You know that they’ll be great together.

“Then go with you, she will, to the Teth system,” Yoda says, finally and officially handing off the mission that would have been yours to Anakin.

        Which is good.

“‘Teth?’ That's Wild Space,” Anakin repeats. “The droid army isn't even in that sector.”

“Kidnapped, Jabba the Hutt's son has been,” Yoda explains simply.

        The disdain is clear as day, despite the fact that Anakin hasn’t even opened his mouth yet. “You want me to rescue Jabba's son?”

        It certainly makes sense that Anakin would be less than happy about such an assignment considering the past he’s coming from. For that, you would have gladly taken it had it not been something so important for plot reasons for both Anakin and Ahsoka.

        Eventually, using his own superiority, Yoda nods though mostly to himself.

“Negotiate the treaty with Jabba, Obi-Wan will. Find the renegades that hold Jabba's son, your mission will be, Skywalker,” he declares. “Remain here and aid Christophsis, you will, [l/n].”

        Anything so as long as it’s as far from Palpatine’s hopes for you as possible, so it’s easy to accept the assignment.

        And speaking of Palpatine… You’re going to need to comm the man to speak to him about the developments. If you left it for some other Jedi report to explain the changes, he’ll no doubt be a bit peeved. 

        You certainly wouldn’t want that… 

“Don't worry, Anakin. Just teach her everything I taught you and she'll turn out fine,” Obi Wan reassures, and this time, you decide to let a sliver of reassurance make its way towards Anakin rather than speak it to reinforce Obi Wan’s reassurances.

        When Anakin turns around from watching Ahsoka excitedly rush off, you can see that he’s clearly more thankful to you than he is towards Obi Wan.

“You know, something makes me think this was your idea from the start,” Anakin mumbles to Obi Wan, offering him quite the unamused frown.

        And with that said, Anakin begins to turn and leave, but at the very least, Obi Wan doesn’t seem all that troubled. He seems to meet your eyes for a moment before turning completely and heading off.

“Let's just hope Anakin is ready for this responsibility,” Obi Wan says with eyes that tell you he’s talking to both you and Yoda. “You know, perhaps you could also take on a Padawan yourself, [y/n].”

        In the presence of Yoda, you know that saying something like that is a danger that is second only to charging at a Sith without a saber to defend yourself with.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” you say meekly, not at all wanting to bring someone young into your troubles. It would be easier to do what you need to do while alone.

“Ready, Skywalker is, to teach an apprentice. To let go of his pupil, a greater challenge it will be,” Yoda says, eyes still watching the gunship lifting away with Anakin and Ahsoka. “Master this, Skywalker must.”

        The older Jedi then turns to you. “And ready, [l/n] is not. Lessons to learn, are there many that remain, Obi Wan.”

        There’s something about Yoda’s tone that makes it feel like he knows something more than you’ve ever told him, but you’re not entirely sure what. In any case, it seems he’s just saved you from involving someone into your very rocky plans for the future and the smile you send Obi Wan is nothing short of smug.

        And before Yoda can catch a hint of your victory and offer you the chance for a padawan as if it were a punishment, you nod towards the two, bowing a farewell out of respect.

“I’ll be heading off to have my men take care of things here,” you promise towards both, eager to leave so that your call with Palpatine can end earlier as well. “Take care of yourself, Obi Wan, Master Yoda.”

“Stay safe,” Obi Wan offers in return.

        All Yoda does is nod his farewells before you’re able to slip away straight towards the comm area for a quick update while leaving Talon to take care of things for the moment. It’s a pity this moment can’t be a moment in which you can catch a break. As your fingers move over the controls, you remind yourself that once this is all done, you can focus on other matters.

“Please connect me to the Supreme Chancellor,” you request to the clone who receives your call.

“Understood. Stand by.”

        It’s not at all difficult to get through to Coruscant, especially since the fight on this planet seems to be largely over and done with for the most part, meaning a signal should be easy to send out. Not even the administrative blocks to speaking to someone like the Chancellor are too difficult to get past. Which is bad because it clearly means that Palpatine is welcoming of your call.

“Ah, General [l/n],” Palpatine greets with two advisers at his side, “I trust that you’ve received word of the current troubling matters from General Yoda?”

“I have,” you answer with a nod, shifting yourself into a more comfortable position, “and I thank you for believing me to be the best for such an important assignment, however the one assigned to the mission is not me. Rather, it’s General Skywalker.”

        Palpatine frowns with a bit of worry and it’s hard to tell if this is true worry or feigned worry. “This is a delicate matter, General [l/n]. I would not have suggested for your assignment had your skills not been well suited.”

        He seems almost genuinely troubled and you can’t help but wonder why he chose the words “well suited.” After all, you’re a fine General in your own right. Your skills certainly do well enough on rescue missions as they do on the battlefront.

“I understand, and I do agree that my skills for a retrieval assignment would be better suited than they would be for military matters, but I believe General Skywalker is also capable of doing this much as well,” you explain, trying not to be fazed by Palpatine’s words. 

        Why he wanted you to be the one to solve this mess is lost to you. Was this a really big matter for Anakin, meaning it’s now a big deal for you? You’re not sure. You don’t really want to take it from Anakin, just in case it is something big.

“Due to Jedi circumstances as well, I believe General Skywalker to be the best suited for this,” you continue, nodding to the older man. “My apologies for passing off the assignment, in any case, but you have nothing to fear. I have full faith in General Skywalker.”

        Smiling towards his uncertain expression, you’re sure you see something in those eyes of his. Did you throw quite a wrench in his plans? Or perhaps you screwed some finer detail of his operation up? You somewhat hope so, just for retaliation sake.

        Though… you do also hope that Anakin and Ahsoka won’t have a hard time. Once they're finished with the assignment, it might not hurt to check in with the young man about how it went. Though, you might not need to do that considering the fact that Anakin seems to have a habit of checking in with you after major assignments anyway.

“I doubt your faith in General Skywalker is misplaced, so I shall await good news from General Skywalker sometime soon,” Palpatine says with a bit of uncertain defeat. “I would have been more reassured had it been you undertaking such a task, but… I will trust in General Skywalker’s skill for now. If that is all, I shall leave you to your duties, General [l/n].”

        Finally. 

“Thank you for the understanding, Chancellor Palpatine,” you say with as much politeness as you can muster.

        And then, when the transmission cuts off, you let out a heavy sigh. The room isn’t closed off and you’re not looking to reveal to everyone around you that speaking to the Chancellor is more of a chore than a pleasure for you, so you have to control your emotions and expressions. But it’s just that… Well, you need to catch a break.

        Especially when a thought, the one that makes it seem like Palpatine is trying to poke at your skill that you know lacks compared to a few others, appears into your mind’s eye, you try not to worry. You just… you try to forget about it.

        Nothing good comes from wavering confidence. 

        Dealing with Palpatine is one thing. Needing to deal with him under the guise of pleasantry is another very tiring thing. It’s understandable, then, that your control over your worries and concerns would waver.

        But you gather yourself soon after, not wanting to wait a moment longer before rejoining the efforts to help secure Christophsis and clean up after Anakin and Obi Wan. There are probably plenty of people hoping for you to clean up sooner rather than later and you don’t want to leave your troops to deal with it all on their own for too long just for a simple breather.

“You know,” Talon begins as you rejoin his side. He’d been waiting off to the side, respectfully keeping eyes off of your conversation but ears plenty open, it seems. “My apologies if I’m speaking out of line, but you probably shouldn’t look like you’d rather take a blaster to the face after a meeting like that, General.”

        Talon’s rather casual tone leaves you sighing again, shaking your head all the while. It’s the compounding effect of both the whispers in your head that remind you of your inability to completely fill Anakin’s shoes and Palpatine’s general… Palpatine-ness that really makes it so much harder on you.

        And there’s not a lot you can do about either. Nothing to do but deal with it as best as you can when it comes.

“Easier said than done, Talon,” you tell the clone, offering him a thankful glance, “but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Happy to help out,” he tells you, smiling more than just smirking, “General.”

        At least you can be reassured that Talon won’t be snitching on you anytime soon about this sort of side to you. He’s certainly someone you can trust.

        …

        Your steps slow and Talon manages to catch on with your slowed down pace just a step after you. When he turns, you can see the way his brown eyes watch you carefully and curiously.

        Just what is the expression that he sees on your face, you wonder… 

“Do you…” you manage to begin, only for your voice to die out.

        What good is it to ask Talon of your capabilities as a General? And it’s not like you can just ask him if he thinks you’re a good Jedi either. And to need a sort of reassurance from someone— anyone — leaves you with a bit of a troubling sensation that follows those thoughts. To think that you need someone to trust you for your own abilities in order for you to trust them yourself… 

        …

“General?” Talon wonders aloud.

        You decide to let the question disappear into the recesses of your mind. You don’t need to ask. You shouldn’t need to ask.

        Because you’re a perfectly fine General.

        Because you’re a perfectly fine Jedi.

“Nevermind,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

        Talon eyes you, certainly weighing the pros and cons of asking about whatever must be troubling you, but he nods in the end.

        A part of you does thank him. The other part… 

        …

        Well, you try not to bother with that side.

——

—

        A flicker of a victorious achievement flutters into the corner of your mind, and looking up from overseeing another take-over of an area filled with backup enemy forces, you get the sense that Anakin must’ve finished off the assignment you’d tossed into his lap. No sooner than that does a tap come through.

“General, we’ve secured the area!” Winger calls over.

“Great work, men,” you answer, speaking to the whole legion. “Have the wounded looked after and begin a sweep for anything else around here.”

“Understood!”

        With your saber now deactivated, you let the presence in.

“I take it that things turned out well on your end,” you say softly, eyes wandering the area as half of your mind continues to focus on the sight in front of you.

“Yeah, it did. How’d you guess?”

“Just a feeling,” you answer with a curt laugh. “I knew you’d be able to do it. I’d be more surprised if things didn’t turn out well.”

“It’s good to know I’ve got your undying trust,” Anakin says. “But we did come close to nearly blowing it. Thanks to Padmé, things turned out in our favour.”

        Padmé, huh… Just the thought of someone who’s supposed to be your friend sends a bit of a thorn through your heart. You try your best to bury it as soon as possible, burning the feeling away from within you as best as possible, even.

“It’s a good thing we’ve got such a capable ally then,” you say simply.

        There’s a brief moment of silence from his end, but before you can ask about it, Anakin speaks up. “Are things fine over there?”

        He’s worried and you can tell that very easily.

“I’d like to think that between the two of us, I had the easier job,” you answer. “So yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“You sound a bit tense, is all. Are you sure you’re alright?”

        Truthfully, probably not. At the moment with only clone troopers around you— trustworthy ones at that— you can frown freely without being judged or questioned.

        Hearing “Padmé” makes you a bit tense in the heart, if you had to be honest. Ignoring that feeling just makes the other issue of your inability that you were trying not to bother with come back in full swing. At this rate, you’re trapped between bad thoughts and more bad thoughts.

        Again, you shove them both far back into your mind. No time for either of them right now.

“I’m fine, Anakin, really,” you reassure gently. “I’m glad things turned out well on your end.”

“So am I,” he agrees, pausing for a longer second than normal. “I, uh, guess you’ll be on Christophsis for a while?”

        Considering the swift job of your men so far and their usual performance— “It doesn’t look like it. I’ll probably be getting my next assignment after the men rest up a bit.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised or something like that. “Well, if you aren’t busy later, can we, uh, see each other?”

        His awkward boyish tone brings out a laugh from you. Considering the somewhat peeved feeling that you get from his end, he heard your laugh. Despite his vague annoyance, you don’t feel too guilty. Rather, you feel a bit lighter.

        There’s something about being able to spend time with him that makes things a bit easier on your heart and mind.

        For a moment, you’re able to enjoy being good enough to be someone Anakin wants to spend time with. Though you do wonder why he wouldn’t want to spend time with Padmé, his actual wife, instead of you.

“Alright, alright. We’ll coordinate a time later.”

“Great!” He clears his throat. “I mean, that’s great. I’ll, uh… I’ll hear from you later?”

        Perhaps Padmé is too busy for a call. You certainly wouldn’t want Anakin to feel like communicating with him is a chore, or anything, and saying no might make him feel bad. 

“Yes, I promise,” you tell the young man who’s every bit the young boy you met all those years ago. 

“Right! Then I— Hey! Snips! What’d I say about—”

        With his attention flickering off of you for a moment, his voice is pulled away from your range of hearing. The pause doesn’t last long before Anakin’s attention seems to turn away from Ahsoka, who must’ve walked in on him speaking to himself— or technically you — and back to you.

“We’ll talk later,” he whispers, probably to get one last word in under his breath.

“Yes, yes, I’ll hear from you later,” you promise him and his Signature swells as much as he allows it too. Too much joy, you know, would alert Obi Wan, and you know how much Anakin wants to keep these chats under the radar.

        Considering that… it’s hard to find the right time or place to tell the young man that Obi Wan knows all about it already. Poor Anakin, you figure, but it is cute to see him so worried.

        The connection melts away there and you let the general niceness of all that slip away. After all, you still have a job to do. At least you’re feeling refreshed before starting up again.

Chapter Text

        The need to get used to the fact that you’re probably just going to end up being both a General for the Order and Palpatine’s errand runner for a very long while— as well as a pawn to be guided and moved wherever Palpatine sees fit despite the fact that you’re not exactly ignorant to his schemes— is very clearly shoved into your face upon meeting a very certain assignment.

        Padmé.

        It’s beyond you why Palpatine would put you with her. Not that you mind, in any case, but it’s a strange turn of events. Wouldn’t Palpatine prefer pairing Padmé with Anakin rather than you? To, well, cultivate their rather already rocky relationship? For the ending that he wants to come to fruition? Of course, it’s possible that he’s truly turned all eyes on you, meaning that Palpatine doesn’t really have a need to bother with Anakin right now. 

        Yet again, you have to confess that you’ll probably never have any idea of what’s going through that older man’s head. A pity, truly… 

“Is all this sneaking around part of the job description for being a senator?” you wonder aloud curiously, looking towards the brunette at your side. Dressed underneath a cloak, very little of her is visible to the world, but you have no trouble sensing that it is indeed Padmé there with you. 

“No, I don’t suppose it is,” Padmé answers, smiling as if the potential danger of this mission escapes her completely. “But one is required to be flexible, so I suppose this ‘sneaking around,’ as you put it, fits under that aspect.”

        Now you can see how she manages to keep Anakin on a tight leash away from all that danger he always seems to love getting into and how she manages to maintain such a good relationship with Obi Wan at the same time. She knows exactly what to say to win any debate. Not that your time at the Temple taught you much about winning verbal altercations. 

        Just where did Obi Wan learn such a skill from anyway, you wonder…

“But, well, this mission ,” you begin carefully, making sure to keep your voice down low, “is this really a good idea?”

        You’re on a speeder already on your way towards a very specific lower level of Coruscant, so it doesn’t really matter if you convince Padmé that this is a bad idea and a trap because it’s a bit too late to turn back. And seeing as you’re going to be the only one with Padmé on this trip, as her attendant will stick around with the speeder and await your return, you can’t exactly just leave the mission as you’re alone in protecting Anakin’s very actively involved wife.

        At the very least you’re quite confident in your abilities to protect someone else. That and the fact that Padmé is far more capable in a battle than any old civilian. So, perhaps, there’s no need to worry all that much.

        You just have to make sure Anakin’s wife makes it home at the end of the day alive.

“It took great lengths to convince the Banking Clan to send me instead of the Chancellor himself to retrieve what might be a critical piece to their allegiance to the Separatists,” Padmé tells you. “It would have been worse to allow the Chancellor to make a move himself.”

        You'd just as easily disagree because you’re very sure that you’d much rather Palpatine risking his skin for what sounds like an elaborate trap he made himself , but on the other hand, you’d also much rather tag along on a trip with Padmé. Talon was right when he said that you look like you’d rather take a blaster to the face after dealing with Palpatine, because at the thought of a secret stealth mission with Palpatine rather than Padmé, you certainly would rather take a blaster to the face. 

“I suppose so,” you murmur in agreement.

        Padmé eyes you, a smile playing on her lips. “You’re worried.”

“I don’t suppose you think this is going to end without some sort of trap to walk into?” you say in return, earning an approving glance of some sort.

“You haven’t changed since we first met some time ago, it seems,” Padmé says all too suddenly. “Still one to worry, I see.”

“Only when it warrants the concern,” you quip, side eyeing Padmé only for her to laugh at your lower tone.

        She turns her gaze to the path before her. There’s still a ways to go before the speeder reaches the right level.

“How is Anakin these days?” she asks suddenly, nearly causing you to choke on your own breath.

        Doesn’t she know the answer to that question herself? Aren’t they married?

        …

“He’s fine?” you answer unsurely, watching her eyes move over to you again. “Is something… wrong?”

“Nothing in particular,” she answers simply yet so incredibly vaguely. “I only wanted to hear how he might be doing. You two are close, aren’t you?”

        …

        Oh no, you aren’t getting in the way of their marriage, are you? You didn’t want to be a homewrecker— That’s the last thing you want out of being here.

“As friends, of course! We’re just friends ,” you try and reason, flushing a bit when you realise your voice rose a bit higher in volume than you wanted it to. “I mean… Well, it’s just that the Temple isn’t… It isn’t very good at handling people like him. He comes to me for support, so we’re close.”

“What does that mean?” Padmé asks of you curiously.

“Anakin isn’t like other Jedi, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” you try to explain, fully aware that someone like Padmé can be trusted with something like this. “His emotions aren’t as controlled the same way as other Jedi.”

        Padmé is silent for a half a heartbeat too long in your opinion. “So, like you?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m entirely in control of my emotions either,” you correct with a grimace, interpreting her words in that way.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Padmé corrects with a softened voice. “What I mean that you’re also not one to mask your emotions either. You and Anakin are similar in that respect.”

        Well, she isn’t wrong. You’ve more than once let your heart guide you when your mind and the Force should be your primary guide as a Jedi. Large case in point is the fact that you rushed out of Coruscant hours after receiving a suspicious vision and risked your skin in saving Shmi for Anakin. If that doesn’t scream “letting your emotions guide you,” you’re not sure what else would.

“I suppose you’re right,” you say in uneasy agreement. 

“It’s not a terrible thing at all, [y/n],” Padmé reassures you quickly, smiling brightly. “I just think that it’s a good thing that Anakin has someone like you with him. It’s like you said, Anakin needs a different kind of support than what the Temple seems to provide.”

        You nod to that.

“But I was wondering, in any case,” Padmé continues, eyes drifting towards the path the speeder is taking for a moment. “I’m curious… Is Anakin close to anyone other than you at the Temple?”

        Somehow, you feel like such a question might just be a trap far worse than whatever the Banking Clan might have ready for you.

“Well,” you begin, foolishly losing your cool in front of a politician trained to sense even the slightest hint of weakness from a single incorrectly used tone, “there’s Obi Wan, his new padawan Ahsoka Tano and… I’m not too sure about the other Knights and him, but I hear he’s friends with another Jedi Knight Aayla Secura. That’s all I know for sure.”

        It’s not exactly your job to police Anakin’s relationships. Last time you checked, that was Palpatine’s self assigned mission as of late. 

        Padmé nods to the awkward answer anyway, her eyes taking on a bit of a faraway look. “I don’t mean to pry, but do you know if Anakin has ever gifted someone something? A necklace, of sorts? I only ask this of you because I’m curious and because I trust you, [y/n].”

        The japor ivory necklace you now realise you had foolishly worn to this mission, mostly out of habit, feels like it’s burning against your skin in a way that’s beyond what the eye can see. You’re practically sweating bullets at the sudden interrogation, and the sight of the approaching landing pad only makes you feel worse.

        It’s not a sign of safety, no, rather even if you’ve arrived, that doesn’t mean you can run from this question. Padmé could probably smell a lie from a mile away, so there’s no sense in denying the truth either. 

        In essence you’ve been trapped.

        The speeder touches down and Padmé eyes you from underneath her hood. All you can read from her otherwise simple gaze is a questioning emotion.

“It’s me,” you finally answer softly, swallowing heavily. “Anakin gave it to me.”

        Padmé’s expression, however, barely shifts. When it does, all you see is a smile, strangely enough. “I see.”

        …?

        Isn’t she angry that her husband has given another person something so important? Something, if you’re remembering this correctly, that was made for her? He’d practically taken the necklace back after having gifted it to her so long ago in order to give it to someone else. Doesn’t that make her angry in any way? Why does the Force around Padmé seem to shift with… understanding instead?

        You swear she knows something you don’t.

“Well then, my partner in crime, it looks like this is our stop,” Padmé says good naturedly, turning away towards the mission at hand that is the landing pad and the doors leading off it. “Shall we get going? It may do your nerves good to get this finished as soon as possible.”

        It would do your nerves even better if you were brave enough to flat out ask the woman what it is that she knows and if she truly wanted the necklace back rather than not asking, but the choice between the two choices is too jarringly obvious— 

“Of course, Senator.”

        Don’t ask. You already know the answer without even asking. The answer that maybe she was just humouring your close friendship with Anakin. After all, what does a woman who’s so confident about what she does and who she is— someone who’s also already married to Anakin— have to fear of a fellow Jedi? For all she knows, you’re just another one of Anakin’s friends and a good source of support.

        That’s all. There’s no need to ask because you already know all of that.

        Her hand stops you from walking forward any more and she turns to smile pleasantly towards your confused gaze. “Call me Padmé, [y/n].”

        Her tone is a little less pleasant and more… carefully pushy. Intimidatingly sweet, even. You do want to maintain a sort of distance with her and so referring to her as the Senator and your protection assignment that she is will do just that. You don’t hate her, not at all, but there is a part of you that cautions getting too close with her. If anything, she’s almost like one of your two victorious love rivals— though, that’s not entirely true seeing as you never really put up much of a competition anyway— so it certainly would do you best to not to be too personally involved with her.

        After all, considering how close you are with Anakin already, getting too close with the wife will make you feel a hundred times worse about the close relationship. Yet, now here she is, asking you to be on more personal terms with her. Something about the way she stares at you leaves you with the feeling that rejecting her request wouldn’t work. In any case, they look just like the eyes Anakin and Obi Wan give you on occasion.

        It looks like all three of them will surely turn out to be the death of you if Palpatine doesn’t step up his game sometime soon and plan your death himself.

“Alright,” is what you end up saying. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

        Padmé beams at that.

        … 

        Yes, if Palpatine doesn’t kill you, the amount of everything else to deal with from everyone around you surely will .

        Still, you try not to let all of that cloud the fact that you’re here on a mission that needs to be completed. Nodding your gratitude towards the woman who’d driven you here, she mirrors the action before lifting the speeder and soaring off, probably to a different, safer place to await for a signal from Padmé once the mission is complete. 

        Using your plentiful training in reining in your thoughts and whatever else disrupts a Jedi’s focus, you shelve the thoughts and follow after the one you’re supposed to look after.

“We’re supposed to be looking for someone who’s received the transmission codes from the supreme executive of the Banking Clan,” Padmé reminds you, glancing towards you as she guides you through the winding path of the lower levels as if she’s been here before. “I heard from the Chancellor that you have superior skills in the Force. Are you able to find this person?”

“That depends on many things,” is your perfectly vague Jedi answer. “So we’d have better luck looking for someone with some help. Like a meeting point or a tracking device.”

        Padmé doesn’t seem too bothered by the fact that you basically say that no, you can’t really help.

“Then it’s a good thing we have a meeting place scheduled,” Padmé declares, probably having expected that whatever she had in mind of your skills might end up making things unrealistically easy. “We’re lucky it isn’t too far from here either.”

        You follow after Padmé, your figure easily handling the rustle of the large piece of cloth over you as something like this is a natural thing for you. Though this is a cloak that belongs to Padmé, it feels quite enough like your own.

        And then, just as you expected, a distinct feeling flickers to life and— 

        Danger .

        You make sure to shove Padmé out of the way first and foremost with as much care as you can possibly manage while your other hand detaches the saber at your side. In a flash, the [l/c] blade shoots out into the open just in time to deflect the bolt coming your way. It flies after impact against the humming blade, you see, for a little while before it finally hits the shooter where you’d been aiming the redirection for.

        The shoulder, of course. You weren’t aiming to kill. Mission on the field of war or not, you’re a Jedi above all else.

        …

        For a second, that single thought nearly stalls you, but it’s pushed aside as it’s comparatively not as important to everything else you need to attend to at the moment.

        You hear the sound of someone slipping from a high point with a shout, falling as you watch patiently before they land in a heap atop some crates. One glance shared with Padmé leads both of you to creep your way over, grabbing the assailant by the other arm and lifting their unconscious body out from the rubble.

“Sniper,” you declare quickly, turning to Padmé. “It looks like this is either a trap or some other party knows we’re here for something.”

        Or possible both, but you figure Padmé is already saying that in her own head.

“Let’s let the authorities handle this one,” Padmé decides quickly, lifting an arm to press a few buttons on the commlink on her forearm. “Without getting to the meeting place, we won’t know for sure if this is a trap or not.”

        You do agree with that notion. If anything, it looks like the people you’re up against are just simple bounty hunters or something like that. Probably looking to score a few extra credits for a job of keeping a senator from meeting a specific someone. Not a difficult opponent to need to deal with at all, really.

        It’s a pity they didn’t know that the senator of interest is none other than Padmé Amidala— a.k.a., the last senator anyone would want to piss off.

        The authorities arrive, allowing you to let go of the still unconscious sniper and slip away with Padmé after you reassure the droids of your identity and that you’d be fine on your own without their escort. With a bit more speed in your step, the two of you try to slip along the winding path without arousing much more suspicion.

        When you finally get to the supposed meeting point, you can relax just a bit. But not for long, of course.

“—ive us what you’re delivering and we’ll let ya off easy,” hisses a voice.

“Best hurry up!” whispers another voice. “I haven’t heard back from—”

        You pull your eyes away when you see Padmé turning towards you. “Any ideas?” she asks of you.

        Your eyes wander the scene. It’s a terrible idea to rush in, blaster and sabers ablaze, seeing as the one you’re apparently supposed to meet is being held by the collar by a pretty big and scary bounty hunter. Your eyes wander up higher and you see that they're in a closed off area, of sorts, with an open roof.

“Let them come! With everyone on the team here, some senator and their guard is no match for us.”

        You nearly huff at such a confident comment. Sure the fact that you can’t beat Dooku is a cause for concern on your confidence, but bounty hunters… They’re not that hard.

        Turning to the side nearby, you see a pile of crates as well against the wall.

        Hm… 

“I have an idea,” you relay to Padmé. “Come out once I get our friend out of harms way.”

        Padmé, probably used to this sort of action, nods with apparent full faith in you, and you slink off according to your hastily created plan. With steps light and barely audible, you make sure that the sensations of the Force surrounding the enemy party remain focused on their captive and not you.

        Just at least until you make it to the top of a wall before leaping off. Your fluttering cloak alerts them, but it’s not enough time for them to see you and do anything like threaten the one you need to save. Landing heavily atop the one with a hand on the Banking Clan representative, allowing the representative to be dropped out of their hold with enough time to scuttle away, the first step of your plan is completed.

        Making note of the position of the one you need to protect, you push a hand out to send another one of the enemies into the wall before kicking out towards another who attempts to rush you. Padmé slips out, blaster aimed and firing at specifically chosen spots not meant for anything but immobilising for a moment long enough for you to kick them to the ground.

        It doesn’t take long at all before they’re all out cold. If they aren’t, you make sure to hit them hard enough so that they are.

“Thank you, thank you!” repeats the one hidden underneath a disheveled cloak as their hands struggle to get it all fixed up again. “You must be the one I’m to meet.”

        You eye the person speaking to Padmé warily, still truly believing that this is a trap of some sort, but the human male, from what you can tell, doesn’t seem to be a threat. Either not yet or not at all.

“Why are there people moving against you?” Padmé wonders as you return to her side. “I’d heard that this was to be a secret meeting.”

“There are many that would rather see the Banking Clan remain with the Separatists,” the man explains in a low tone. “But I digress. Here, this is what was agreed to be brought to you.”

        He reaches into his side, and though you half expect for him to pull out a blaster like clichés dictate, he simply holds out a little stick that looks almost like a USB for Padmé to take. With the passover of such valuable information, the man says his goodbyes and quickly skitters off. To avoid any other complications to his life, you assume.

        Certainly, you hope that the man won’t have another run in with any other shady folk, but seeing as the entire team of enemies had been here for you to take out at once, you figure that he should be fine until he gets to relative safety.

“That was a smooth mission,” Padmé notes with a hint of surprise in her voice, hand slipping the datastick underneath her cloak and to her side.

“I’m definitely grateful for that,” you agree with a smile.

“It seems I’ve grown used to complications then,” Padmé says as if to chastise herself, shaking her head. She smiles, regardless, and you can tell that she’s grateful for having had you along with the ride. “Now, to handle them…”

        Her colder eyes wander their way to the bounty hunters who so foolishly let themselves try their luck against Padmé and it doesn’t take long for them to be carted off by some policing droids. With the danger apparently gone, you’re free to head to the meeting point with Padmé so that you can be brought right back to Palpatine to report to him of the job well done. 

        Like Padmé said, easy job.

        If only it ended here rather than continuing on to include Palpatine again.

—

        A single day passes before that mission you’d been on with Padmé seems to bring something else to fruition. Seeing as you’re still on Coruscant and able to heed Palpatine’s wishes against better judgement, you find yourself with Padmé again under his request for you to watch over her again. A quick trip to Naboo at her side, mostly to act as escort to a certain degree, is cut short and early with some news from Palpatine himself.

        Just like that, you’re tossed into another grand adventure.

        “Hooray,” you might’ve cheered, had it not been for the bad, bad feeling you’re getting from it already.

“My Lady, are you sure the information from Chancellor Palpatine is reliable?” Threepio wonders aloud towards the brunette at the pilot’s chair.

        Padmé offers you a look first. “It seems like you’re not the only one starting to get a bad feeling?”

“One needs to be cautious, Padmé,” you remind the woman lightly from your seat behind her. 

        She smiles, hearing your casual tone of warning but not exactly doing much in response to it before turning back to her controls. She’d been the one to insist on piloting, and seeing as your flying skills aren’t exactly the best a Jedi can be as a pilot, you didn’t mind letting her handle it.

“In any case, yes, Threepio. It was secretly given to him by the supreme executive of the Banking Clan himself,” Padmé explains, referring to that other mission you’d completed a day ago. “If they leave the Separatist Alliance, it will go a long way to shortening this war.”

        When you asked about it earlier, she said the exact same thing to you. You know for a fact that there are risks in dealing with these sorts of missions, especially seeing as you were hurried out before being able to contact the Council about your mission. Palpatine, of course, promised to leave a message for you, but you know better than to expect a call back from the Council anytime soon.

        And besides, you know that with your entrance into this war, there’ll be a lot of things you don’t know all the details about and things that might end up different than how you remember. Long before you even started growing involved with the canon events of this world, you already prepared yourself for the fact that you need to be flexible for anything that might come heading your way.

        But still, it’s possible that the Banking Clan actually wants to pull away from the Alliance, no matter how crazy that sounds.

        Beeping begins to sound from the controls and Padmé glances down at the screen. “We’re approaching the system now.”

“Without any complications, I hope,” you comment as you stand from your seat to place yourself near Padmé’s seat.

        The woman offers you a glance that seems like a light reminder that things will surely be fine. Taking that with a grain of salt, you lift your eyes to the rushing whites, blues, and blacks of the world in hyperspace in front of you as Padmé begins her preparation to drop back into regular space.

        But when you do, what comes after the slowing of the stars is… Well it looks like an enemy ship. A big one, at that, rushing straight for you. 

        Looks like it had been a trap after all.

        Threepio cries out with understandable fear— “my goodness!”

“This isn’t right. That’s a droid warship,” Padmé declares, tapping away at the controls, frown growing deeper and deeper by the second.

“Whatever the case, we have to get around it,” you urge Padmé. Looking forward, you can just barely make out the sight of the Republic fleet up ahead. “And closer to them, hopefully.”

“I’m not sure how far I can get us considering where we’ve dropped,” Padmé says hurriedly, turning the ship around with a jerk of her arms. “It looks like we’re in the middle of a battle .”

        All you can do at this point is watch with a sinking feeling as the ship swerves to the side of the flagship. It flies through what looks like smoke from the flaming and battered exterior, soaring along as Padmé simultaneously flies to avoid crumbling debris and the barrage of blue coloured blasts meant for the flagship and not us.

“Do you think we’ve been noticed?” Padmé asks, looking towards you as she continues steering clear of crashing.

“It’s possible,” you say, eyeing the enemy flagship before looking forward past the flagship. “If not the enemy, then we might’ve been noticed by whoever the Republic’s side is over there.”

        Padmé frowns with worry crowding around her figure. Still, she seems wholly calm, despite the overall situation.

        And then, a blinking light appears on the panel. A transmission, you realise easily.

“Looks like contact from the Republic cruiser,” you say, staring at the screen with fingers tapping away at the control panel before you, just to free the task from Padmé’s end. 

        The transmission connects, soon enough, and without too much trouble either.

“Naboo cruiser,” begins a young feminine voice you easily recognize as Ahsoka’s, “identify yourself.”

“This is Senator Amidala and General [l/n],” Padmé answers, only looking over just as a hologram of Anakin appears.

        And he does not look happy.

“Padmé? [Y/n]? What are you doing out here?” Anakin questions and you can’t help wincing at the tone he uses with you.

        This certainly wasn’t the trap you were expecting to be caught in. And it certainly wasn’t a trap that you expected yourself to be tossed into. It certainly is a huge pain to have caught the eye of the nefarious and ever-so annoying Palpatine, especially during this time when the older man practically controls everything from behind the scenes.

        When Padmé’s eyes flicker away from the hologram to her flight path, just to keep yourselves and the ship from colliding, you decide to take over on the transmission.

“A mission. The Chancellor sent us for treaty negotiation with the Banking Clan,” you answer carefully, watching as Padmé manages to avoid a collision with a flyaway piece of the ship that’s in such a sorry state that you wonder how much longer it can last for. 

“You have to get out of there as fast as you can!” Anakin shouts back at you, making the alarms in your head ring even more than they already are.

“We’re working on it!” Padmé barks back with the same amount of strength in her voice that Anakin had used before swerving out of the way of a particularly thick cloud of smoke. 

        And just as you’re about to make it out of the thick of it, the ship you’re on seems to… stall, suddenly. But that can’t be right because if the ship was stalled, you’d certainly be notified by one of the many blinking lights on the control panel, but there’s nothing that you can tell that signifies something being out of sorts. Meaning, it can’t be due to anything on your end. 

        There’s only a few things that are similar enough to the event of a ship stalling. Perhaps a stalled ship would be better than the actual tractor beam you seem to have been caught in.

        Now this is bad.

“Have we been hit?” Threepio wonders, turning his golden head towards you.

“I’m afraid it’s much worse than that,” Padmé answers, and with little to do now that you seem to be caught in a tractor beam, she shakes her head with hands falling away from the feel.

        Through the transmission, you can see that another person steps into view. Obi Wan, evidently, and he certainly doesn’t look any happier than Anakin.

“[Y/n], what is happening?” he wonders, face clearly showing his concern.

“We’re being taken aboard the flagship,” you answer quickly, settling your nerves in the meantime as it never bodes well for a Jedi to lose their cool. “I’ll do my best to get us off and out of there, but you shouldn’t stop your attack. You can’t let this ship escape just because they have us now.”

        Not that you really remember what made this ship so dangerous, anyway. All you can assume is that if the Republic is chasing after it, it stands to be something that shouldn’t be let go of. 

“So we continue the attack?! But [y/n]—” Anakin begins, only to be interrupted by the ever fiery Padmé who leans into the conversation.

“We will not be made Separatists bargaining chips,” Padmé cuts in with a tone that discourages all other rebuttals, almost like a scolding mother. “Continue your attack. [Y/n] is right, you must destroy this monstrous ship.”

        Unless — 

“Unless you have a better plan, Anakin,” you add quickly, wobbling when the ship jerks a bit. “But whatever it is, it still needs to end in the ship’s destruction.”

        You can see the hangar of the flagship entering your view and you breathe out a sigh. Meeting Padmé’s gaze, the two of you nod.

“We’ll do our best on our end,” you promise both the men before you. “So don’t worry about us.”

        Both Obi Wan and Anakin don’t look like they want to cut the transmission off for any reason. They must be worried and you suppose that would make sense. However, you offer them one more nod regardless of that before tapping the button and cutting off the transmission yourself.

        A sensation of concern bumps into the shields in your head, but you try not to focus on it too much beyond responding in kind with a bump of reassurance. What you need to worry about right now is keeping yourself, Padmé, and Threepio in one piece before Anakin and Obi Wan inevitably save you like the heroes they are.

        However that might happen, at least. No matter how hard you think, it seems, you can’t quite pinpoint the details you’d need to know in order to avoid all possibilities of trouble. You’re bound to run into some complications, and even if you’d prefer to remain as safe as possible, you also know that trouble always finds a way to you in the end.

        Such is the will of the Force, you suppose… 

“It does not look safe out there, My Lady, General,” reports Threepio with a gaze scanning the hangar past the windows. 

        You take in the sight of the ruined hangar bay and silently agree with Threepio. To be frank, it looks as though you’d sooner die by pieces from the ceiling long before a single droid even tries to touch you, much less whoever the Separatist general of this ship might be.

        And that’s, arguably, slightly reassuring. 

“I see now this whole thing was a trap like you said, [y/n],” Padmé says, frowning all the while she’s tapping away at the controls, “and I'm afraid I walked us right into it.”

        But you know that it’s not her fault. It’s not her fault that she’s falling for that very believable façade of Palpatine’s. It’s not her fault that she’s willing to rush into what might be life threatening danger if it means to end the war far sooner than it’s foretold to end.

        None of this is her fault.

“No need to feel bad about it,” you reassure, also already used to getting yourself into trouble as a Jedi. “Something like this was bound to happen seeing as we’re looking to end this war as quickly as possible. Let’s just get out of here as soon as possible.”

        You frown as the words fall from your lips, eyeing the hangar with distrust. “I have a bad feeling about who we might be up against.”

        All you have is a feeling that tells you of who it might be— and that that someone is someone you don’t really want to be in this situation with. It’s hard to pin exactly who it is from your memory alone and you figure that you’ll just have to wander in blind just like Padmé and Threepio. 

        The way Padmé looks towards you after you speak tells you that she’s relieved to have heard you say… whatever it is that seemed to help her nerves. Not yet ready to leave behind the ship yet, apparently, Padmé continues working at the controls. You watch her movements carefully and it doesn’t take long before you realise what she’s done. 

“Come on,” Padmé declares. “I’ve overloaded the power system.”

        A ship sized bomb . 

“Let’s hope someone important isn’t smart enough to know not to board this ship looking for us,” you say hopefully, watching Threepio follow after Padmé’s departing figure. Taking a spot in the back where you can watch over the other more easily. 

“Oh! We're doomed,” Threepio bemoans flatly as he toddles on after the Senator up at front. 

“I’m sure we’ll be fine, Threepio,” you promise the droid with some of the energy he certainly is lacking, striding after him.

        Hopefully, at least.

        Following along after Padmé, she quickly hurries both you and Threepio down through the floor and what looks to be the opening for the landing gear. Once in the hangar, the three of you are sneaking through the hangar that’s impressively empty enough to keep you from being spotted until you get the chance to hide behind some crates. 

        From there, it seems like this is both to check who you’ll be able to catch in the trap Padmé set up and who you might be up against. And when you do see who it is, well… 

        Grievous is the lucky General of the day, striding along the floor before barking orders to two droids holding blasters and getting them to follow him. You watch as the trio boards the ship. 

        You know for a fact that you don’t have the saber skills to beat someone like Grievous. You know for a fact that if you tried, you’d be the one who’d be killed in an instant or at least close to an instant. It’s hard not to curse that fact, but you at least try to remain mostly calm.

        You’re desperately wishing for an easy time , but it soon becomes clear that that is an impossible wish to grant. Even when the ship explodes, a familiar cream coloured metal arm punches through the pile of rubble and your chances of needing to fight Grievous shoot through the roof. 

“Sound the alarm! We have stowaways onboard!”

        Without any reason to stick around, you’re no sooner gone with Padmé and Threepio.

        Padmé spends most of the time wandering the halls with as much caution as searching for a comm panel allows, hoping to connect to someone Republican from what she tells you, leaving you to watch the hallways carefully with a very worried Threepio doing the same. Or, well, he’s on lookout duty until he starts bickering with Padmé, meaning you’re left on complete lookout duty. 

        And before long, a hint of something distinctly Obi Wan catches your attention— there’s a feeling of disbelief.

        Strange… 

        You know for a fact that you’d have an easier time communicating with someone Republican with your ability, but the idea of risking your location aboard the ship makes you decide otherwise. Sure you can’t sense any Dark Side or anything from where you are, but you’ve been wrong before. Sure Grievous is here, but you know that there’s a chance that more than just Grievous is also here.

        It’s how Dooku can catch you by surprise sometimes, in the few times you’ve met him since that first time, after all. Sure the Force can like— or hate you, considering the amount of complications you seem to go through on a monthly basis— but it certainly doesn’t make you omniscient. 

        And so, amidst running around and sneaking about, all you limit yourself to being is a watchdog with your eyes and part of your attention on the Force as per usual. Padmé seems a bit more comfortable with fiddling with each comm panel she finds, surprisingly knowledgeable about some level of repair it seems. Threepio, as always, hovers around the woman with clear worry.

“Yes!” Padmé cheers suddenly, bringing your attention from the empty yet crackling hall full of flying sparks to the woman at the wall. “[Y/n], I’ve made a connection.”

“That’s good,” you say with a hint of reassurance finally sprouting from the worry in your chest before turning back around to make sure you’re watching the halls properly. “If I’m going to need to fight Grievous, I’m going to need some better combat skill on our side.”

        That’s assuming that help is even capable of coming, that is. 

“Padmé! [Y/n]!” greets a particularly happy voice. “You two alright so far?”

“Anakin!”

        You glance over, and either the panel has no hologram function or Anakin’s galavanting off somewhere where he’s not privy to the comforts of a comm table. You’re inclined to believe the latter. Knowing him, he’s probably on this ship somewhere, actually. Was he supposed to be? It certainly seems in character enough for him to be… 

“Are you all right?” Anakin questions. “Where are you two?”

“We’re on the lower levels. We’re fine and we’ve kept out of sight, but I don't know for how long. Droids are everywhere and if [y/n] engages any of them, we may jeopardize our location.”

        You certainly are lucky that you’ve far been able to avoid any and all droids. Sooner or later though, you know you’ll have to cut something down.

“Obi-Wan and I are onboard, too,” Anakin notes casually. 

        Your head lifts from watchdog duty. Considering that, it seems like you were right about them being around. Instead of reprimanding the voice of someone who probably shouldn’t prioritise the three of you at this point in time, you try searching through the air around you as carefully as possible instead.

        Sure you could get angry at Anakin’s brash and reckless behavior, but it’s not like this comes off as a surprise to you. You know him well enough, both from a time here and beyond here, that this is perfectly within the pattern that is Anakin Skywalker’s usual way of doing things.

“What?” Padmé practically hisses to the panel. “What are you doing here?”

        A faint sensation flickers to life just enough for you to notice it. It’s been a bit difficult as the war settled more comfortably into the lap of the galaxy to discern Signatures, and even though yours with Obi Wan and Anakin is far deeper than others, you’re not exactly having an easier time than everyone else. Of course, sensing general emotions from others that one is connected to is easy enough generally , sensing location or at least general distance is a bit harder nowadays.

        Luckily, that sensation seems to have been strong enough to bump weakly at your shields with a voiceless whisper of a general direction.

“We came to get you off this ship. Ahsoka, how can we get to them?”

        You turn your head down a direction the three of you haven't gone down yet. Deeper into the ship down that way is where Obi Wan and Anakin are, you’re pretty sure. 

“According to our scans, there seems to be a large open area in the center of the ship,” Ahsoka answers. “It should be halfway between the two of you.”

        And that’s enough to affirm your suspicions. 

“We're on our way,” Anakin promises. “Did you hear that, you two?”

“We’ll be there.”

        And with the call done and some sense of reassurance floating into your head from Anakin’s direction, you help Padmé avoid going down what seem to be the wrong halls, if the Jedi sense in you is any indication of some sort of true path. In no time at all, you arrive at the big open area and glance around for something that could indicate Anakin and Obi Wan’s Signatures.

“This certainly doesn’t look like something I want to get too close to,” Padmé says, eyeing the long drop just steps past the edge. 

“With any luck, maybe we won’t have to risk it?” you offer hopefully, glancing to the woman you know can’t jump as far as you. And neither can Threepio, for that matter.

        You could probably carry them over… 

        clnk clnk clink

“It seems we have company,” Threepio relays, quickly making his way to the same place behind you.

        You and Padmé turn around just in time to see an advancing group of droids, and with speed not too unlike instinct, you dash forward with a saber already igniting at your side. Keeping in mind where Padmé and Threepio should be behind you, you make sure that any bolts shot at them don’t make it to them.

“It looks like you’re going to need to jump after all, Padmé!” you toss over your shoulder. “I’ll be right behind you!”

“I hope you will be!” Padmé, more or less, forces you to keep your word and you hear Threepio being heckled along.

        Turning your attention to the droids, you’re at least thankful that you can handle them without any issue. Deflecting the bolts that come flying at you with your dual sabers, not at all frazzled by the storm of red light, the last droid is handled easily with a thrust of your hand that sends it crashing against the wall and crackling into a heap. Without wanting to remain here for too much longer, you turn around just in time to see— 

        Threepio disappears over the edge, presumably having fallen due to his lack of mobility. Fully aware that falling forward like that, especially since Threepio doesn't exactly have the same flying capabilities as Artoo, you know that that’s not a good turn of events for someone like Threepio.

        Assuming that Padmé should be fine on her own, you leap over her and down onto the train that Threepio had tumbled onto in order to keep the protocol droid from tumbling any farther into the darkness below. Lifting your head to see Padmé leaping onto a separate train safely just as you’d hoped, you let relief wash over. 

        And as if hearing your prayers, adding onto the pleasantness of decreasing worries, the sight of two lines of glowing blue amongst the otherwise dreary colours appears and you look up to see Obi Wan and Anakin as you’re helping Threepio up.

“I’ll get Padmé!” says Anakin, leaping closer towards Padmé.

        You make a mental note not to follow. After all, you’re quite sure that they would be thankful for the alone time. That and the fact that you know that you can leave Padmé’s safety in Anakin’s hands and be fine with it.

        So you turn your attention towards Obi Wan, who’s already running over to you. He lands atop a train that seems to be going at roughly the same speed as yours and relatively closeby. Meeting his gaze for a split second is all that you need before you lower into a crouch and leaping into the air, managing a landing onto his train with that single leap. Upon standing up, however, you see Threepio being hovered over with the Force, bef— 

        You catch the sight of the train speeding by with just enough speed to start coming closer to overtaking the train you’re on. 

“Obi Wan,” you start as quickly as you can, “there’s another train com—”

        CLNK , is the sound of Threepio slamming against the front piece of the train before it’s followed by Threepio’s terrified yelling echoing throughout the space while he’s swept along.

        Oh no.

“ Blast ,” Obi Wan curses as you near the man, watching as Threepio is carried away on a train that is not the one you’re on, “that’s not good.”

        He meets your gaze, and when you make it obvious that you’re holding back your own comment on the situation, he seems thankful for that. At least enough to turn his attention to reporting his mistake to Anakin.

        Meanwhile, you let your eyes wander their way towards the direction that the train carrying Threepio went. Considering the sound of Anakin offering to pick the golden droid up, there’s no need for you to spring into action after Threepio.

“I always seem to find you lost in thought, don’t I, [y/n]?”

        Obi Wan’s accented voice crashes headfirst into your thoughts and you see him staring with a hint of amusement in his eyes and something warmer in what you can understand of his Signature. You’re not sure what that warmer feeling is, but just knowing that it’s a positive emotion is good enough for you.

“There’s a lot to think about these days,” you answer simply. “So, what’s the plan now? Taking down the ship somehow, I hope.”

“Consider your wish granted,” Obi Wan answers brightly. “It appears that I’ve been tasked with keeping their hyperdrive offline. I don’t suppose you’d like to join me?”

        Fiddling with that hyperdrive will certainly mean clashing with Grievous. At least, you assume as much, but with Obi Wan, your chances of walking away from an encounter with the enemy general alive should increase drastically.

“You’re making quite the persuasive offer, Master Kenobi,” you say, offering him a nod. “Consider me on your team.”

        And based on the smile he offers you at those words, he seems just as happy as you are with such an arrangement. 

        The trip to the room is as uneventful as a clear trap can be, but you follow Obi Wan at his side regardless. Whatever might happen on this mission with Obi Wan, you know that things will turn out fine, and based on the way his Signature is thrumming next to you, you’re quite sure that he’s certain you’ll all get out of this alive too.

        Inside the hyperdrive room, there are only two droids, but as you stride closer, it’s clear they aren’t the only ones in the near vicinity. As the lights switch on all around you both, you find yourself and Obi Wan surrounded in seconds by a multitude of other droids.

        Yet the sense of reassurance never leaves Obi Wan’s body. Not even for a second. Even as Grievous appears with an impressive entrance befitting his usual grandeur, the only thing that changes about Obi Wan is the fact that he smiles.

        It’s the confident smirk, you easily recognise. 

        Whatever the case may be, the message his figure seems to send to you seems to be a signal to wait for his call. You assume that Obi Wan has a plan in mind, and seeing as you hadn’t been thinking of one yourself, it’s easy enough to settle back for a moment as the two exchange words with full faith in what Obi Wan must have in mind.

“Kill them.”

        Grievous’ words come right before blaster ends are pointed towards you, and it’s Obi Wan’s foot shifting that seems to be the true signal to act. Based on something innate within you, you get a sense of what he wants you to do in the next second that’s to follow even as the droids prepare to pepper the two of you with bolts.

        But you wait for a split second, readying yourself. 

        When Obi Wan jumps, you do the same. The first order of business is to clear out the numbers of droids in the area, and with a thrust of your hand, the droideka you land behind is forced to roll a straight line down the railless path, knocking aside the droids in its path without missing a single one like a bowling ball to some pins.

        You make it behind the last and third droideka with your saber activated just as Obi Wan does, watching as he throws that one towards Grievous. No sooner does he begin to bolt off down one pathway, and though you get the feeling that he means for the two of you to split, you run after him as you duck under an incoming bolt instead.

“I certainly wouldn’t say I dislike the idea of you following me,” Obi Wan begins, taking on his usual aggravatingly teasing tone once again despite the situation, “but wouldn’t our plan fare better if we split up?”

“Not a chance. If Grievous sees me going off on my own, he’ll easily choose to come after me,” you answer, managing to keep up with his pace through the hallway. “Unless, of course, you’ve forgotten about the fact that I’ve never even won a spar with you ever since a long while ago.”

        Obi Wan chuckles, almost sounding sly as he does. “How could I forget something like that, my friend?”

        Of course…  

“In any case, it’d be best to stick together,” you say, glancing back to see nothing chasing after the two of you yet . “I hope you won’t mind me following you for the next little while, Obi Wan.”

        With eyes fixated on the hallway, you can see the way he takes a moment to form his answer. A moment that strangely lasts a few seconds longer than normal.

“I would never dream of sending you away if you’d prefer to stay by my side, [y/n].”

        Oh… 

        Well, you suppose that’s reassuring. Very reassuring. Especially to that small voice in you reminding you that he’s talking about that help you’ll be needing should you come across Grievous.

        It’s also shamefully reassuring to that other part of your heart that grabs at those words, clinging to it greedily. You know for a fact that clinging to such heartfelt words will only spell your doom that much more but you can’t help it.

        You never can, it seems.

“Obi Wan?” comes a voice that sounds a lot like Anakin despite him not being anywhere nearby.

        Just before you’re both able to turn the corner, however, out appears a group of droids. Spurring yourself into action, you leap forward, slashing your saber through the neck of one droid as you shove another away.

“Come in, Obi Wan.”

        And before you get the chance to tell Obi Wan not to bother with the droids and to instead answer the call, you see the man already pausing to lift up his arm while standing right in the middle of the hallway. Perhaps he just has faith in your skills, but it certainly would have been nice to get a warning… 

        Not wanting Obi Wan to have a hole blasted into him anytime soon, you forgive him for such limitless faith in your abilities and get to work protecting him.

“Anakin, I’m afraid Grievous is on to us.”

“Yeah. We noticed.”

“We’ll rendezvous back at the Twilight . The fleet much engage the—”

        JRRRRRRT

“—ship,” Obi Wan finishes despite the connection having been cut off before sighing heavily.

“Should I connect us?” you offer, deactivating your saber once the last droid falls.

        Obi Wan, at least, seems to consider the offer. “No. There’s no sense in expending so much of your energy. I’m sure Anakin will follow through with my instructions.”

        You step over the piles of droid parts left after your little fight. “You and I both know he’s not going to go straight to the Twilight , right?”

        If Obi Wan knew exactly what you were thinking, he doesn’t mention it. All he does is shake his head.

“Whatever he decides to do, I’m sure it will be a decision made with us in mind,” Obi Wan says with a hint of defeat. “If he plans to stay for any longer on this ship, we can at least meet him at the Twilight and keep the engines warm in the meantime. Shall we, [y/n]?”

        You nod in agreement, as there really isn’t any other option to take, and you follow after him through the halls towards wherever they’ve docked their ship. No sooner are you spotted, of course, and then promptly chased through the ship back toward the large open area you’d been at earlier.

        It’s only when you see Grievous as part of the lucky group chasing you that your speed increases. Grievous certainly is faster than one might expect for a hulking cyborg creature, but you’re able to maintain quite the distance from Grievous, even if it’s not that much.

“Are we engaging?” you wonder aloud to Obi Wan as the cantankerous sound of Grievous coming ever closer with each second booms in your ears, certainly making a mess of things as he does considering all the noise.

“Well, it wouldn’t do us good to bring him back to the ship,” Obi Wan quips almost too casually in return.

        Right then, so— 

        And then, after something seems to catch his eye, Obi Wan makes a leap, leaving you to quickly grab your sabers for fear of being cut in half by Grievous while leaping back to give you more distance. Mortified at the sight of Grievous charging for you, you’re at least able to block the attack Grievous throws down on you to keep him from slashing you in half.

        Great .

“General [l/n],” he growls at you.

        You’re glad that Grievous is no Force Sensitive because it takes more than just a single heavy gulp to push aside the worry bubbling in your heart.

“A pleasure to finally meet, General Grievous,” you bite back as confidently as you can, fully aware that any obvious fear wouldn’t help you against anyone, Force Sensitive or not.

        Above you, you can see Obi Wan swinging his way back towards the fight, you shove the twin sabers from your own pair just in time for Obi Wan to land a kick on the cyborg man. It’s a pity that it seems to do far less than you were hoping for.

        Still, with Obi Wan back in the main fight, you have less to worry about. Considering all that time you’ve trained with Obi Wan ever since you both were quite young, as that had cultivated quite the synergy between the two of you, it seems you’re able to match Grievous’ greater number of sabers and larger size. However, it doesn’t seem like Obi Wan’s here for the sake of beating Grievous in a fight and capturing him, especially not when Obi Wan seems to parry well enough to provide a small window of opportunity that allows the two of you to run.

        And you take that chance, of course.

        You try your best to ignore threatening clanking following right at your heels, and it certainly is hard . It’s only when Obi Wan makes it to the end of the train that he quickly darts in front of you, effectively blocking the sabers Grievous had ready to slash down on you and protecting you from quite possibly losing a limb.

        They don’t clash for long at all before you see Obi Wan glancing at you. 

        A way out, apparently, is what he seems to be telling you.

        A blur rushes by below you, and after not a moment too soon, you make your leap. Obi Wan follows closely behind, striking the train below Grievous’ feet to force it into a stall, of some sort. The action leaves Grievous to remain on the train running along the tracks in the other direction.

“That ended well,” Obi Wan notes at your side, standing up as his hand deactivates his saber. 

“Well, we still need to get back to your ship, so it might be a little too early to say something like that,” you offer in return, standing up with a soft sigh.

        Your first encounter with Grievous and you’re still alive to tell the tale. That’s reassuring.

“Before anything else goes wrong, then, let’s get going,” Obi Wan declares, and just like before, you follow right behind him.

        Eventually, without too many hiccups other than a few droids who join in on the pursuit with blasters firing all over the place, you do make it onto their ship to find everyone else also relatively safe and sound. The only issue that arises from the rest of the otherwise smooth rescue mission is when the ship takes a bit of fire on its way to the Republican cruiser in the distance, but even then it’s not at all too life threatening. 

        Just a bit bumpy.

        It’s only when you make it onto the hangar bay of the cruiser do you let out one final sigh of relief. 

“Was there any doubt that you would make it back onto an allied cruiser?” Obi Wan’s voice asks from behind you. You can see him making his way to your side, eyeing you with an amused smile.

“You did almost leave me to handle Grievous on my own,” you refute in return, noting the one event that made you worry about returning alive at all.

“Master, you did what ?” Anakin questions incredulously, suddenly joining in on the conversation with an incredulous expression directed towards Obi Wan.

“Oh, come now, you are perfectly capable of handling Grievous on your own,” Obi Wan tells you, frowning at the fact that you’re not at all confident enough. 

        If only that were true.

“You didn’t get hurt,” Padmé begins, stepping forward with a concerned gaze, “did you?”

        At Padmé’s concern, you offer Obi Wan a look that basically tells him that this is the proper reaction to have, but all Obi Wan does is sigh with a shake of his head.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you make sure to reassure the young woman who looks a lot more concerned with you than you were expecting her to be. “I didn’t do much of the fighting, in the end.”

        All’s well that ends well, you suppose. Though, it probably could’ve ended better.

        Maybe.

Chapter Text

        One thing that you understand most easily about the war is the fact that being a General is hard. On top of that, being a Jedi while being a General is hard. The issues of them both basically compound each other, making you ponder upon waking each morning of what it might’ve cost had you just simply waltzed into Palaptine’s office the second you got the chance to in order to kick him to the dirt before the war even started.

        But even if you tried to do just that, the fact that you can’t even defeat Dooku is telling of what kind of strength you’d need in order to win over Palpatine. And it’s not like it’s strength that you have, currently.

        You’ll just have to wait out the war, in that case, and find that chance that’ll allow for a sure win. Meaning, you have to continue to play your part as the best Jedi General you can realistically be.

“No,” you decide, shaking your head as your eyes take in the holographic recreation of the terrain atop the table, “we’re not moving forward with that plan.”

“General, with all due respect, this is the best plan we've got,” Depa’s Clone Commander Grey responds with a frown.

“Then we have to come up with a new plan,” you declare simply. “I’m not accepting a plan with such high mortality numbers. I understand that it gives both General Billaba and I the advantage, but I don’t want it to be at the cost of you men.”

        You lift your eyes from the diagram of the surroundings, meeting your gaze with Grey’s. “The Separatists might not care about the numbers they send into battle, but I refuse to fight the war on their terms. I’m not accepting that plan unless it becomes our only option.”

        You can see the way Grey falters. His eyes flicker towards Talon standing at your side, and from a glance towards your own Commander, you see Talon nodding. 

“I hate to tell you this, but not even I can change the General’s mind once it’s settled like this,” Talon says simply, and even his ever-so carefully created professional mask doesn’t shift to reveal the smile so clearly mirrored in his voice. 

        Beyond the simple sight of him, you can feel his amusement through the Force. It also seems as though he’s thankful for what you’ve said. That and he seems to enjoy the fact that now Grey’s on his own against your decision.

“I do agree that such a plan employs more risks than I would like,” Depa cuts in, eyeing the hologram carefully. She seems to find what she wants because her eyes wander their way towards yours. “But do you have anything else in mind?”

“Not at the moment, but I’m sure we can figure something out,” you answer with as much confidence as you can muster. “The ones who went out to scout the area— Could we have them join this meeting?”

        Depa smiles. “But of course.”

        You’ve done this before many times. Receiving a plan from a clone that certainly is an incredible plan that should work, only to feel uncertainty gnawing at the edge of your mind at the projected losses. They were soldiers, yes, and you weren’t about to object to their code of loyalty that they lived and breathed, but if the Council decided that you would make a fine General, then you were more than willing to use your commanding power to keep the number of losses as low as possible.

        You weren’t creative and powerful like Anakin and you certainly weren’t as skilled or good enough at commanding like Obi Wan, but you were going to do your best. The clones didn’t deserve to be treated as though they were a means to an end, and considering your slight attachment to your own battalion, you’re already quite used to shutting down reckless plans like this.

        Other battalions aren’t as used to your strict standards, clearly.

“Considering what the scouts said, the area isn’t habited, so to lower the amount of men we could make use of the unstable terrain here,” is the plan that you manage to come up with after listening to the scouting troopers speak, pointing to a path with multiple winding paths coming off of it. 

        Grey seems to see where you’re going with that. “We could cut off their routes one by one and split their forces into smaller forces.”

“Cut them into thirds of their numbers and handle the first two that make their way into the area,” Talon adds, pointing to the larger areas where you’d be able to trap the droids. “Even if the last third retreats, they won’t be getting any reinforcements anytime soon, so we can hunt the last of ‘em down.”

“As long as we’re careful about the timing and splitting of their numbers, the projected numbers of our losses shouldn’t be as high as before,” Grey declares, eyeing the points now made on the holographic terrain. 

“I approve of the strategy,” Depa decalres with a nod, and when you look towards her, she smiles. “A fine strategy, General [l/n].”

        To your side, a sense of pride seems to flutter from Talon’s direction. Within you, a sense of relief grows. You’re doing well, considering the praise, and that’s something you certainly like to hear.

        And with that underway, the commanders head off to speak to the troopers about the somewhat elaborate plan that will begin as soon as the battalions are ready, leaving you with Depa.

        It’s almost hard to believe that she, who’s technically like an older sister to you considering your lineage tree, isn’t actually someone you’ve talked too all that much since becoming Mace’s padawan. Or even from the little time that had before becoming a padawan either. Even now, after having graduated from that, you still haven’t had much time to just get to know her. In general, surprisingly, you’ve never really interacted with her before.

        Until now.

“It seems you’ve accustomed yourself to the current conditions well,” she says, ever-smiling slightly in a way that makes her seem like the complete opposite of Mace.

        The part of you that recoils at her words certainly doesn’t believe her. The feeling sinks, but it feels cold all the while as it’s accompanied by an ever-familiar faint whisper of nonconfidence. You stifle it, as usual, thankful for the fact that Depa shouldn’t be able to notice such a feeling passing through your mind and heart.

“Well enough,” you agree as brightly as you can. “I’m still trying to, well, be the best General I can.”

        At the mention of that, Depa seems to grow a fair bit more solemn. The room is plunged into a bit of a silence for a moment before she stirs once again.

“‘The best General you can be,' is it?” Depa repeats, sounding a bit remorseful at the thought of it. “Does that not trouble you, [l/n]? You have always had a sensitivity to the Force, after all.”

        … 

        She can’t be asking about your confidence in general, especially not with that mention of the Force. She shouldn’t have a reason to have managed to pick such a topic right from the shadows of your heart either.

        You’re sure what she means is that she takes a bit of issue in the fact that you’re so welcoming of your newfound responsibilities, but it’s not like you have any choice in the matter of being a General or not. If it were all up to your own choice, you would’ve marched your way to Palpatine the second you were able to in order to keep this war from happening at all.

        But you couldn’t just do that. So here you are, fighting the war.

        And you’re not even entirely sure if the cogs that are pushing forward the events of this universe will make sure that the things that need to happen will end up happening. That, even if you were to change something, it may turn against you and punish you for any infractions or perhaps simply route everything else to the same destination regardless of any changes because the journey there might not actually matter. Just the end goal.

        After all, despite the somewhat crucial addition of a Jedi such as yourself, everything has moved according to the canon world that never had you here to begin with. But of course, the future is in motion constantly so it’s not like you can be too sure about whether or not things will work exactly in the same way, anyway. As per usual, you have to wait for the answers to come to you.

        At the very least, considering Depa’s expression and the way the Force moves around her, she seems to be looking for your opinions and thought, not for a chance to lecture you about your serious endeavor in being a good General and directly contradicting your vows to supposed Jedi-ness.

“There are some things we can’t avoid. When conflicts appear, we can only hope that we can either end it swiftly or end it with the best possible results we can realistically create,” is your careful answer. 

        Depa sighs. “You are just as wise as Master Windu says you are. Thoughtful, even, almost beyond your age.”

        Well, you aren’t exactly the age of your body, so that might be the reason for that. You’ve had plenty of time to exist and think— in this world, or otherwise.

“Do you believe the Jedi truly have a place within a galaxy-wide war?” Depa wonders wistfully, eyes lowering to the floor. “We are peace-keepers, yet…”

“If not us, then a great deal of other citizens would have to fight, Master Billaba,” you counter. “There are many out there who don’t know how to fight or defend themselves. I might speak for many others too when I say that I’m glad our action, rather than inaction, means that countless others don’t have to fight where we are.”

“A troubling yet… very true point,” Depa says in response to that. Judging by the way her expression remains just as troubled as before, it looks like that was something she was thinking about already.

        You make your way closer, catching the way her eyes lifting from the ground. 

“I’m sure things will be alright, Master Billaba,” you reassure the woman.

        After all, if things go well with your plan, the galaxy will be fit to fight back against evil and darkness for another day once Palpatine is finally gone and out of the picture. So as long as you do your best to properly parrot the part Anakin played while keeping him as far as possible from the Dark Side, you can do it.

        Bring peace to the world like you’ve always wanted to.

        Shouldn’t be too hard.

        Depa’s lips curl into a wider smile. “Is that your instincts or the Force reassuring you?”

“A mixture of both,” you answer easily, “as Master Windu always advises for us Jedi to do.”

        A chuckle passes from her, and for a split second, Depa looks a bit relieved. You’re not entirely sure what kind of reassurance the woman needs or if she truly found it in your words, but this reaction must be a good one. After all, everyone deserves at least a little moment where they can feel free enough to laugh and smile. Especially in times of war.

        Especially when one needs to fight in said war.

“I regret not having been able to spend much time with you,” Depa begins all too suddenly, eyes clearly reminiscing a time far beyond the scope of now. “Master Windu only ever has praise, yet in my mind, I have barely anything.”

“He speaks plenty of praise about you as well,” is what you manage to offer. “I think he might even see you as the better one between us.”

“Nonsense,” Depa quickly corrects, frowning unhappily, but you’re speaking the truth.

        You know your weaknesses. Compared to Depa, there’s almost an immeasurable amount of them hanging over your shoulders, if you’re being honest. You smile nonetheless. Not for yourself, but for the woman with you.

“Who’s the one on the Council, Master Billaba?” you ask almost innocently, and when the woman’s eyes widen in surprise, your smile widens. “For now, at least, you are the better Jedi, Master Billaba. I have a lot to learn if I want to reach your level.”

        She must take your words as the simple truth and nothing like the self-lowering speak she initially assumed your words to be even though a part of it is just that. Depa shakes her head, but her smile is clear as day.

“I am beginning to believe that I won’t need to wait too long before I see you on one of the seats myself,” Depa confesses, eyes shining with a bit of the same kind of pride that Mace sometimes lets slip when he speaks with you. “You are as wise as you are skilled.”

        The praise kicks up a flutter in your chest and you make sure to bow to the woman. “Thank you for the confidence, but…”

        A seat in the High Council… You admit, it’s a bit hard to imagine yourself in such a place. You’re not even sure you would even want to be in a place like that, to be honest.

“I don’t think a seat in the Council is something I’m searching for anytime soon,” is what you say, smiling sheepishly. “I’m satisfied with where I am at the moment.”

        It’s not like there’s much to being on the Council in your eyes. Seeing as being on the Council doesn’t really mean much for your future goals, it’s not a priority or anything that demands your time and energy. The only thing you want out of your time here is to beat Palpatine at his own game and ensure the survival of this world you’ve grown to love.

        And, not to mention, return the future to those you’d prefer having the future.

“Not soon, but in the future. That I’m sure of,” Depa corrects. “You have the makings of a great Jedi, [l/n].”

        Despite her words, you can only find yourself caring about being a good enough Jedi for what you want to do. If you can make it to that, that is. There’s a lot to do, you know that, but at the same time, plenty of time until the pivotal events that make up Revenge of the Sith.

        At least, you think there’s plenty of time to gather yourself in preparation for it all.

“We’ll just have to see if I make it onto a seat sometime in the future, in that case,” you conclude, watching as Depa’s smile grows once more.

        She lowers her head to a bow towards you. “I have no doubt in you just as the other Council members have little reason to doubt your future.”

        And to know that they’re rooting for your success in something is a relatively good thing, you suppose. You’re a bit cautious to trust them completely, but you suppose it’s… nice. At least on the surface it is. 

        With the conversation slowing to a halt, Depa decides that a return to your wartime duties is in order. The both of you exit the strategy room in search of your commanders, and for you, Talon is easy to find.

Talon's POV

        He glances over towards his General making their way over to him after parting with General Billaba. There’s a pensive expression on their face— a sight Talon has long since taken the meaning of as a gift. After all, Jedi weren’t prone to show their emotions all that often, but his very own General [l/n] was kind enough to be different.

        Kind enough to let it show.

“Is there anything else to add to the plan?” Talon asks curiously, wondering if that might be the reason for such a serious expression, right after he acknowledges his General’s arrival into conversational distance with a bow.

“Nothing new,” [l/n] answers simply, their face shifting into that of the very recognizable passiveness of a Jedi. “We were just chatting.”

        “Chatting.” What do Jedi Generals just chat about? The Force?

        [L/n] flickers their eyes towards him, and instantly, he knows they caught the way he only half heartedly covered over his curious emotions.

“We were chatting about the philosophy of war,” they explain all too simply.

        Talon hums.

“You sound like a Jedi, saying things like that,” Talon can’t help but say. He sees the way his General eyes him as if offering him a warning. There’s something a bit heavier than their usual warning glances, and if he looks carefully, it’s as if he sees something darker in their [e/c] coloured eyes.

        Whatever that’s about… 

“I am a Jedi, Talon,” [l/n] reminds him without sounding very angry at all, really. They sound a bit… flat.

        Talon knows when something is wrong, even if it’s pretty well hidden.

“It’s hard to tell sometimes, is all,” Talon explains vaguely, watching as [l/n]’s gaze shifts into that of cautious interest. 

        Instead of asking his General to divulge their worries, as he’s sure they would prefer to not do that, he figures that reassuring them might do the situation best. 

        [L/n] eyes him, most likely due to the answer he chose to say, and he pauses to try and collect his thoughts. He’s heard rumours, of course, of how different of a Jedi [l/n] is. It’s not something that’s kept a secret— everyone seems to know. Even [l/n] themself. Not that it seems to bother them all that much, clearly. Or perhaps they’re not letting it show that much.

        He doesn’t know for sure.

“You have a different air to you. Easier to be around. Less… mystical and less hard to understand,” Talon explains, finding it a bit hard to really explain just how welcoming [l/n] just feels. “Not sure what it’s all about. I’m not looking to try and understand either, General, but that’s what it feels like.”

        Because it’s probably something about Force and he sure isn’t looking to short circuit his brain over trying to understand the minute details about all that anytime soon. He just… somehow knows. Even though he isn’t Force Sensitive— None of the clones should be, anyway. Jango wasn’t so there isn’t any reason for any of them to be, he assumes— he can feel it. Or, he can feel something.

        The difference in the way they… Well, the way they seem to exist.

“Is having a ‘different air’ a good thing?” [l/n] wonders curiously.

        Talon certainly thinks so.

“You’re different from the other Jedi. We can tell, somehow,” Talon explains. “It’s enough for us that, though the other clones serve because it’s our duty to, the 983rd thinks of our duty as different.”

        All because [l/n] is different too.

        [L/n] hums curiously. “If you don’t serve me out of a need to do your duty, why do you follow me at all?” 

        Truth to be told, when Talon first met the Jedi that was to be the General of his battalion, [y/n] [l/n] was… not what he was expecting. In terms of knowing a Jedi for a longer time than just the simple action of greeting them with a salute and a nod, he only knew of one Jedi well.

        Jedi Master Shaak Ti. 

        [L/n] was and remains to be very different from Shaak Ti, but the difference isn’t all that bad. Far from it, in Talon’s opinion. 

        One main difference between his General and the other Jedi is [l/n]’s clear disdain for the use of clones as weapons of war. This Jedi General of theirs treats them all with the same respect they often showed to their fellow Jedi, not once looking at them as if they were anything less than that of very powerful beings capable of using the Force, whatever that stuff was.

        [L/n] treated them like men— real men. Not just clones of a man either. It’s as if they have their eyes watching something bigger than everything before them, and since they looked over it all, the clones were no different than regular men. 

        And perhaps the “bigger picture” also included that far distant look they always had as if they were looking towards the future or something far bigger than any one person. Of course, this trait was something all Jedi seemed to have, but [l/n] also maintained a steady grip on the present. Whatever all that means, anyway. In any case, they never seem to lose track of what is right here in front of them.

        Talon appreciates that groundedness. He likes it, even.

“Good old trust and faith,” Talon answers, nodding. He didn’t need much time to find that answer from the recesses of his mind. “There’s something more to serving under you and the men think so too.”

        The words spill from his lips easily. They were all truths that Talon would tear any droid apart for. Barehanded, even. He wholeheartedly believes in these feelings of immense loyalty towards his General. It’s not just that he was raised to be loyal and to wish to do well for his commanding officers, but that there’s an additional piece of devotion that he found for this General of his.

        There has been no one else who so easily swept away his first impressions of them, tossing them to the trash with ease, but [l/n]. Because of that, there remains no other that Talon would rather serve with his entire heart than his current General. And for the same [y/n] [l/n] who was more or less assigned to him first instead of having met them in any natural way, he would gladly run straight through anything.

       Even death.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” [l/n] says, laughing softly. The smile stretching on their face is kind— It doesn’t fit well with the backdrop of the war, Talon thinks, and it doesn’t feel like a regular and simple happy smile either.

        It’s complicated, just like [l/n]. His General is certainly a welcome complexity.

“I’m glad to hear that,” [l/n] confesses softly, eyes wandering the grounds around them. “I wonder a bit too often if I’m good enough to command such fine troopers like yourself.”

        Talon frowns. Is this what they were thinking about before? Is this what’s troubling them? He initially finds it stupid to be worrying about something so obvious— [l/n] is a fine general and he wouldn’t choose anyone else to take their place— but he pushes aside that thought away as soon as it appears.

        Because, for all their strength, he knows his General is one who feels concern.

“Worry all you want, General, but we’ll serve you until the end no matter what,” Talon promises, finding his eyes meeting with their [e/c] coloured eyes. “There’s no one else each and every one of us would lay down their lives for.”

        The smile that stretches over their earlier smile is utterly heartwarming. It’s a smile that Talon is used to seeing, but usually only when they earn praise of the highest caliber or when speaking to General Kenobi and General Skywalker— another thing that Talon knows to keep his mouth shut about— and Talon wonders for a moment just what kind of person [l/n] really is.

        Beyond the Jedi General of the 983rd Attack Battalion.

        Beyond the Jedi Knight [y/n] [l/n].

        His intuition tells him there’s something more, and that regardless of whatever other edges [l/n] has to their character or past or whatever, Talon would still have no trouble trusting his life within their hands.

        Such is the beloved Jedi General of the 983rd. Their guardian, in a sense, in a time so turbulent like war, fitting them right into the namesake of their own cruiser.

“Remember, you’re not just fighting for me,” [l/n] reminds with a meek chuckle. “The Republic and peace of the galaxy need loyal men like yourselves too.”

        He nods. He’s been trained to fight for the Republic so the action is easy. “Of course.”

        But when he focuses his thoughts on [l/n] again, he knows that when they fight under the command of this Jedi General for the Republic, [l/n] didn’t represent the Republic in their eyes. Not completely, at least, and neither did their valiant figure represent the Jedi Order. Rather, they represented simple peace. All the Jedi represented that much, but for the 983rd, [l/n] truly looked to be the one to guide them to their hopes of a better galaxy.

        Even if it means a galaxy without war— without the one thing that gave them all life and purpose in the first place— they would follow their General down that path. Even if Talon had the chance to undo that choice, he would make that same decision again and again.

        These very few months of the war have given him enough time to decide that much for himself and he feels no regret towards coming to that conclusion.

“But if I’m going to be honest, General, it’s you who’s captured all the loyalties of your men,” Talon adds, lifting his chin with a bright smile. “You’ll just have to accept the fact that we’re fighting for the Republic through you.”

        [L/n], at the sound of taking the Republic’s place in his list of priorities, sighs with a shake of their head. It’s exasperation, another emotion he’s used to seeing on their face, but the smile remains.

        It’s very like [l/n] to have a smile that remains, Talon believes. 

“Well, whatever keeps you in good shape on the field, I suppose,” [l/n] says with defeat, but the smile continues to impede on any sense of negativity in their voice.

        And that makes everything feel just a little more alright. About this situation, about the war, and about everything else that makes everything so difficult.

“I’ll keep that in mind, General.”

        Even as [l/n], with a rare good mood, resumes their silent march onwards into their duties again, Talon lets his mind wander just a bit.

        That Kenobi and Skywalker thing… 

        Talon finds himself narrowing his eyes. He protects his General on the field, watching their back because if there’s anyone who manages to turn the tides to the Republic’s favour, it’s [l/n]. From now on until a long while, if that spark in their eyes means anything, they’ll be a protector of all that is good, even if that sounds cheesy.

        So of course he’s going to want to make sure they’re alright off the field as well. He doesn’t personally know Kenobi and Skywalker, but…

        …

        Well, he’s just going to keep a careful eye out for them.

——

— 

“Fine work, you two,” Mace declares as a holographic image of a man. “Once you two are ready to leave, you are both to return to the Temple before your next assignments.”

        For some rest, you assume. Your men certainly deserve some time off the battlefield.

“Yes, Master Windu,” Depa says, and in seeing her bow, you do the same next to the older woman.

        Mace offers a single nod before his image blips out.

“We should be able to leave in the next hour or so depending on how smoothly we can have everything cleared out,” you say to the woman.

“Yes, and we mustn’t dawdle either,” the woman agrees. “Can I leave you to complete the report as I oversee the battalions in the preparations of our departure?”

        There’s no reason to say no, so you nod in agreement of such an assignment. “Thank you, Master Billaba.”

“Depa,” she corrects. “And of course.”

        She leaves in a fashion very much like Padmé in that it’s not until after you agree to call her as such that you finally get to watch her depart for her duties of the moment, leaving you in the room to start that report you’re going to need to send over to the Council eventually.

        In the middle of your work, however, is when a knock comes to your mental shields. It’s an accidental knock, and the one it came from is sorely irritated, from what you can tell. It doesn’t feel right to ignore it, so… 

        You let the sensation of Obi Wan’s Signature entwine with your own. Hopefully, Depa won’t notice the connection and come questioning what you’re doing. You’re quite sure no one should know when you connect like this, but it’s not like you’ve asked anyone about whether or not that's true, either.

“What’s troubling you, Obi Wan?” you wonder in a low whisper, continuing on with gathering the information you need for that report piece by piece. “It must be a lot to put you in such a mood.”

“It certainly is, yes,” Obi Wan explains with a deep, deep sigh. “Anakin has lost his R2 unit and… Well, I’m afraid he seems to have grown attached to it.”

        Lost Artoo, huh… You’re quite sure you remember something like that happening. Besides, considering it’s Artoo and Anakin will be Anakin, you’re sure that the little droid will be found and all will be well. Only after some trouble, however.

“Artoo is like a friend for Anakin,” you offer gently. “If he lost the droid, then I’m sure he feels a bit terrible about it.”

        Something other than Obi Wan’s familiar warmth seems to come through. It feels a lot like his irritation from before.

“[Y/n], are you defending him?”

        There’s a warning edge to his voice. Your fingers pause for a moment, freezing in mid-air as you wonder just how far you should be treading in these waters, before you continue with your report hesitantly. However, only half of your attention is on your work right now. The other half is focused on Obi Wan.

“I’m not trying to defend him,” you try to argue softly, keeping your voice low to keep the other clone troopers from noticing all that much. “I’m just saying that it makes sense for him to worry about his droid.”

“He shouldn’t be so worried about losing a droid. You should know that,” Obi Wan says, voice dripping with deep disappointment. “As a Jedi, he mustn't allow such an attachment to form.”

        This is a dangerous topic. Standing higher above the table with a stiffly straightened back, you finally pause completely. What exactly are you supposed to say to that? To all of this, even? You’re the last person to speak to about attachments, all things considered.

“He’s still young,” is all you manage to answer with. “Just… He hasn’t had that long to learn.”

        At least, not compared to you or many if not all other Jedi

        After all, Anakin lived through a portion of his life already where attachments were allowed, and to suddenly be told that he can’t have them anymore is just too much. And you know just how hard it is to let them go like the Order wants you to. After losing a life where attachments weren’t forbidden too, what helped you was the fact that all those attachments were gone from anywhere here. 

        Stuck in this world, having been brought here against your will and all too suddenly, each physical reminder of an attachment was severed at once. Letting go, even if it was still a difficult process, was all you could really do. And so that’s what you did in order to make this new life work.

        But for Anakin, those physical markers— the very subjects of his attachments— still remain.

“So you are defending him,” Obi Wan declares flatly.

        That comment makes you bristle just a bit. “I just think it’s not fair to judge him based on standards that don't take into account his situation.”

        Obi Wan sighs and you can hear it. “Must you always take Anakin's side?”

“I’m not taking his side!” you correct quickly, no longer bothered to even keep your voice down low. You can sense jolting surprise from all around you, but you pay no mind “I’m just saying that he needs time to learn what it means to be a Jedi. Or, the kind of Jedi he’s expected to become.”

“He was knighted too early,” Obi Wan seems to decide regardless of your words, and you can tell he’s exasperated. “There is still too much for him to learn. And you… You also haven’t learned to discard attachments, it seems.”

        That comment seems to hide something, but you’re not sure what it is. Still, for him to be chastising you for having attachments when he also has his own… His love for Anakin which kept him from killing him in the end… The love that drove him to witness the death of Satine… The very love he had for the Order, and to a certain degree the Republic, despite their slow descent right before his eyes— He had no right to assume that you were in the wrong.

        Or, at least, that you were the only one in the wrong.

“I hope you know that your loyalty to the Order and the Republic counts as an attachment,” you mutter in return, stopping yourself from continuing in order to hold back the other instances of the crimes his human heart has committed against the Code he so idolizes.

“That is my duty, [y/n]!” he bites back, his own voice rising as well at this point. “If you cannot discern duty from attachment, then even you—”

        He stops right there all too suddenly, but you know that he’s still there. Perhaps beyond all greater judgement, you allow the connection to become complete, and by the time your eyes lift from the table to your side, you can see Obi Wan there, surprised and still clearly angry.

        The air seems to grow just a tad bit frosty, but just like before with the emotion of surprise springing into the air, you pay it no mind.

“What were you going to say?” you demand of him, your voice low and dripping with venom. 

        There are still clone troopers around, staring at the sight of Obi Wan suddenly there. They’re all troopers of the 983rd, so this shouldn’t be too much of an issue. You focus your eyes on Obi Wan, waiting to see what he’d do in this situation. Would he continue the argument now that you’ve brought him here? You’re not sure. A part of you wonders if he’d shut your challenging words down, promising to speak about it later in privacy.

        All to save you from being torn apart in front of your own troopers.

“That you were not ready for knighthood,” Obi Wan continues regardless of what you thought. “That you have not learned to discard your attachments, [y/n].”

        He does not choose to save you.

        Perhaps bringing him here was a bad idea, but you refuse to stand down. Especially not when your status as a Jedi seems to be on the line now. You remember similar words to the ones Obi Wan just said and how they stung your heart. Now, those accursed feelings you’d previously managed to banish seem to return and your already low patience grows all the more lower, rearing back as if ready to attack.

“And what attachments do I have, Obi Wan?” you demand of him, pulling away from the table and moving closer to the copper haired man. “What qualities make me any less than any other Jedi Knight?”

        Obi Wan narrows his eyes as he steps forward. “You know very well that you weren’t ready for knighthood. You still need guidance.”

“If the other Masters didn't agree with making me a Knight,” you nearly snarl, “then I wouldn’t have been made a Knight in the first place.”

        He sighs heavily, sounding just as tired as he looks. “Circumstances dictated your promotion. You’re still lacking.”

       “Yet they sent you?” comes the aggravating memory of Palpatine’s innocent voice speaking in disbelief. “Could they not have sent another to handle such a troubling enemy?”

        And in your memory, the emotion in Palpatine’s eyes looks like the one that had been in Dooku’s. The angering expression of someone looking down on you, not at all viewing you as anything more than a blip of a hassle to be dealt with using minimal effort.

        Like you aren’t anything significant.

        Like you aren’t enough.

“And just what am I lacking?!” you inquire the man, stepping closer with eyes glaring deeply into his own. “What makes me any less of a Jedi than you, Obi Wan?”

        Your heart is roaring in your ears and the room seems to grow even colder, somehow. Obi Wan’s face is still a bed of wrinkles and the way his eyes burn against your gaze remains.

        You feel something coming from his direction and suddenly, you find that you understand. He doesn’t need to open his mouth for you to know what he wants to say. You know already from his emotions alone that what he feels when faced with your questions is disappointment and pity. 

        And it’s directed towards you. It’s general and vague, but you know what it means. You’re fully aware of the implications of all of that.

        Oh, you know.

        For it to be reflected in Obi Wan’s grey-blue eyes too, you can feel the way your heart squeezes in your chest. It’s nearly as painful as a very real hand reaching into you, grabbing at the organ and squeezing tightly— In fact, it’s almost as if Obi Wan did it himself. And maybe that's why it hurts so much. Your fingers, placed atop the edge of the table, press down onto the cold metal. 

“I know I’m lacking,” you state simply, nearly whispering the words as you pull your gaze away from the blue-grey eyes that, for the first time, you don’t want to look into anymore. “I know I’m not a Jedi.”

        You can't even say that you’re not the Jedi you should be because you know that you’re simply masquerading as one. You have been doing just that all this time, pretending to be someone you’re not all for the sake of saving the galaxy like some hero you suddenly decided to become in place of Anakin.

        Some decision that was, clearly… 

        Maybe Dooku was right. Maybe you really were just a foolish child with a saber. Not even a Jedi after all this time. No matter what training you’ve gone through or all those lessons you listened to… None of that makes any difference in the end.

        You’re no Jedi and you’ll probably never be destined to be anything more than some imposter with grand hopes. Someone forced to dance in a role on a stage for the world to see that you’ve willingly let yourself be casted into.

“I’m just an idiot,” is the only thing your mind seems to find right to declare.

        For even bothering, that is. When your head picks now of all times to throb at the mental strain of all of this you wince just slightly and sigh pitifully.

“[Y/—”

“General! ”

        The yell pulls your eyes up from the ground and you turn to the only other person in the room with you other than Obi Wan. It’s A’vis who stands there near the door, face far more thunderous than you’ve ever seen before, and now that your eyes are off the ground, you see that the room has cleared.

        You’re not that surprised. Though, it’s a bit embarrassing that you had to argue with Obi Wan like you did and essentially drive everyone out in the process.

“Commander Talon sent me to get you,” A’vis answers quickly, still standing at attention with eyes narrowed and face shrouded in clear disdain that he doesn’t bother to cover up, even in the presence of another commanding officer. “He needs a word with you.”

        …

        It would have been good to get this resolved, you know that, but a part of you doesn’t even want to bother. You want to get away as fast as possible. No longer do you wish to subject yourself to the eyes that seem to judge you so harshly for even trying. It hurts even more when, in your memories of Obi Wan’s voice and eyes, you can only ever remember there being support.

        A part of you feels foolishly betrayed.

“I have to go,” you say simply, not looking towards Obi Wan as you speak. Instead, your eyes remain on A’vis. “You’ll have to handle Anakin on your own. Goodbye.”

        There’s only silence for a moment, but you don’t cut off the connection yet.

“I understand.”

        And without turning around, you split the connection completely at what could be considered a goodbye. Whatever sensation you feel coming from his Signature somewhere in the galaxy is ignored as you try to gather up the pieces of your control again. 

        Hopefully Depa didn’t notice any of that, now that you think about it… 

“Talon needs me, right?” you ask once you get a sufficient grip on as much of the swirling storm within you as you can, looking up from the ground once you’ve gathered the last of it. A’vis remains at the door, brows furrowed to betray his concern as he watches you. “Did he say what for?”

“I lied, General,” A’vis answers without missing a beat.

        You blink. “Why did you lie about that?”

“To cut your conversation with General Kenobi short,” A’vis explains, eyes flickering to the place Obi Wan had been, brows furrowing that much more once his gaze settles. “I don’t want to assume anything, General, but that discussion wasn’t going anywhere good.”

        So he figured he should save you from it…?

“It would have been better to resolve it,” you counter with a shake of your head, grimacing when your headache sends an equally unhappy pang to remind you to take better care of yourself after such a strain. “To leave it festering between us isn’t—”

“Pardon my language, General, but I don’t give a damn about whether or not it festers,” A’vis cuts in, his voice as immaculately polite as usual despite his crass words.

        Not that that's any different than usual, though. You look up to see him still frowning deeply. “He may be another Jedi General, but I will not stand to watch you be treated as anything lesser than who you are, General [l/n].”

        His words are sweet, and that says something when even that thought feels like a simple understatement after what he’d done for you. After the verbal lashing you received from both your own memories and Obi Wan, it’s refreshing to hear that at least your own trooper sees some good in you. 

        And to your moment of silence, A’vis seems to see something that softens his expression.

“My apologies for acting out of line, General,” he begins softly this time. “I’m not in any place to be intervening on anything between my superiors, but the others… They came to get me because they were worried, and…”

        Ah… So that’s where all the troopers who had been in here went. Straight to someone who wouldn’t mind cutting in to save you.

“No, it’s alright,” you begin, pausing there to calm yourself properly, first and foremost.

        And the calming of yourself takes the form of a sigh. Your shoulders fall as you try to discard all of that… emotional weight into the Force or anywhere else you can shove it into for the moment or for forever. At the very least, the room feels a little less cold, whatever that might've been about. It’s also reassuring to know that A’vis won’t get all snappy at you for having far too many emotions than what a Jedi should be feeling.

        …

        That cold… Could that have been the Dark Side, maybe? That wouldn’t be good, in any case. Too much would be at stake if you let anything like the Dark Side pass through the boundaries of your mind and heart. And considering how easily it seems to find passage through… Well, you can only assume that maybe that’s because of your certain disposition with the Force. Maybe your emptiness welcomes the darkness.

        Maybe.

        Now you feel tired and the headache isn’t helping at all, either. When you feel a gentle tap of concern from Anakin’s end, you try to reassure him with a mental tap of your own. You’re in no mood to chat with anyone at the moment but you’ll at least offer some reassurance to keep him away from checking up on you personally. You don’t wish to deal with anything at all after all that.

        What you need is to get your report done and handle your headache.

“Thank you, A’vis,” you continue to tell the clone medic. “I… Thank you.”

“Glad to be of service, General.”

        Now isn’t the time to be worried about this. The only thing you should be worrying about is the important stuff, like making sure your report is done, or making sure you're ready to continue throwing yourself in harms way in lieu of Anakin, and doing well in the war. Keeping yourself alive comes with that last one.

        There’s no time to worry about Obi Wan’s lack of confidence in you. Despite the way his words leave a nasty feeling that shreds your heart into pieces, there’s no point in beating yourself over what he said seeing as you knew all of those things already. There was no surprise in those words, so why should you worry about them any more then usual? The same could be said about what Dooku and Palpatine said to you. There’s no point in giving more thoughts than you can handle to the heart in your chest that feels like it’s shattering in its place.

        You just have to keep doing what you’ve always been doing.

        You just have to keep trying your best and hope things will work out because you know for certain that you can’t have full confidence in whatever the Force is planning for this world or what it might have coming next. You’re not a fool who’ll trust it blindly. Not with so much on the line.

        So you’ll do just like you’ve always done… 

        …

        … …

        Just like you’ve always done.

Chapter Text

Cody's POV

        Cody is, if he had to truly be honest, tired.

“General,” he greets stiffly, already assuming that he’ll end up witnessing something truly sad depending on what one considers to be sad, while handing his superior a datapad. “A transmission arrived for you. It’s our next assignment.”

“Oh, thank you, Cody,” Kenobi says, and though the older man looks terribly worse for wear, he takes the device regardless.

        The same part of Cody that knows why Kenobi looks so terrible is the same part of Cody that wishes he didn’t know a thing. It’s not that Cody knows due to having heard anything about it from anyone directly involved, not really at least. He was lucky— or unlucky— enough to have heard some details from Rex, who had heard about the ordeal from Tano, who learned about it from Skywalker complaining, or something like that.

        So far, yes, it’s a huge, huge mess and it’s not entirely something Cody thinks he wants a part of.

        Not that he really has a choice in the matter, however.

        And whatever details he didn’t know much about don’t remain lost for too long, either. After all, he could easily discern from the way Kenobi reacts with his expressions alone during these few moments the parts he's missing. How, upon seeing the words listed across the screen of the datapad, Kenobi’s expression switches minutely from alarm to displeasure and then to worry.

        Kenobi is not one to hide much when it comes to General [l/n], surprisingly enough. Certainly he does what he needs to when with other Jedi, but when it’s Cody’s own helmeted head watching? Cody knows that it’s wishful thinking to hope for a peaceful day without… this. Cody knows that with such a level of certainty, even without even asking why Kenobi is silently freaking out like this, it's about General [l/n].

“An assignment with the 501st and the 983rd?” Kenobi inquires, looking up towards Cody as if he were checking to see if he read the details wrong.

        Which he never does.

“Yes sir,” Cody answers, sorely wishing that he didn’t have to be here at this point in time.

        Kenobi frowns deeply, nearly covering his entire face within shadows. At the very least, the older Jedi says nothing more and instead chooses to practically glare holes into the datapad as if his grey-blue eyed gaze could melt the existence of his assignment from being real.

        …

        … … 

        Cody can’t wait for all of this to just be settled with once and for all. Whenever that might end up being… 

        You’re not entirely sure of what you were expecting at the start of another new year here. A war, yes, but to still be in a fight with Obi Wan? No. 

        All it takes is a few weeks to truly learn that after all that — after such a messy fight with Obi Wan— he will not seek you for an apology. Did you deserve one? You’re not sure. Were you supposed to apologize to him first? Again, you’re not sure. But what you do know is that his side of the connection has been silent for quite some time. Almost as if he’d hidden himself in larger and stronger walls that you didn’t want to tear down before he was ready for a confrontation.

        He was hiding from you, yes, but you’re quite sure that you’re doing the same. In some way, in any case.

        At the very least, you can be glad that all it took to make sure Anakin wouldn’t try to force himself into the situation was an explanation of what happened and a single request for him to keep out of it. You made sure to make it clear to him that both you and Obi Wan are at fault, in a way, so you can be pretty sure that there’s nothing to fear of Anakin interfering and accidentally making things worse behind your back.

        You can hope so, at least.

        Regardless of all that, all that certainly is enough to put a damper on your mood. Even a trip home to the Temple while the Guardian is tinkered with, fixed, and restocked with supplies is full of the worry of running into him and possibly starting another altercation. You definitely didn’t need to explode on the Grounds where there are so many Jedi watching, so hearing that the copper haired man isn’t on Coruscant lightens your mood plenty in a way that makes your chest feel tighter than usual.

        It’s not that you hate Obi Wan, no, you’re all for making up with Obi Wan, actually, and Anakin has even offered to try and speak to Obi Wan himself for you, just to set something up, but the idea just didn’t sit right with you. It just feels like something you should solve without Anakin’s help, but the timing just doesn’t feel all that right yet. It was certainly nice of him to offer, and you made sure to tell him that, but…

        You sigh, and for a moment, you let yourself forget that you’re in a Jedi Temple just to wallow in some self pity. You miss being able to think about Obi Wan without being grossly annoyed. You missed having him around and being able to feel his connection freely at the end of the thread connecting him with you. You missed Obi Wan even though you know that you shouldn’t miss his presence so much like this.

        You just can’t help it.

        …

        What a mess you’ve gotten yourself in, huh? 

“[Y/n],” greets a voice you know well, and after dragging yourself up from the depths of your conflicted heart, you see Mace striding towards you.

        Well, no time now to feel bad about your intense yearning for Obi Wan’s lighthearted presence now that someone like Mace is nearby. Even if he can’t sense things going downhill inside of your thoughts and mind, you don’t want to take your chances.

“Master,” you greet, trying not to show that you’d been thinking about his colleague. “You look well.”

“As do you,” Mace says, nodding to you approvingly. He’s probably happy to see that you haven’t lost anything to the war. At least not yet. “I won’t trouble you for long, but it seems you have a request for your presence on a specific assignment.”

        Your mind instantly expects Palpatine. He hasn’t been sending you to places all that often and he hasn’t been contacting you all that much either, which is a bit strange. You suspect he’s only keeping a professional distance for now just to make sure he isn’t appearing too strongly before you. Though, that just means that it’s only a matter of time before he starts to rush you. What vexes you about that is you’re not quite sure when that might be.

        Meaning you can’t prepare too far ahead.

“Who’s requesting me?” you wonder cautiously.

“Senator Riyo Chuchi of Pantora,” Mace answers, eyeing you and your probable open worry about being called out by Palpatine again. “It seems you were referred to her due to your performance out on the field.”

        That… You’re quite sure you’ve never met Senator Riyo Chuchi before. You know her, of course, but only technically.

“I’ve heard that it was Senator Amidala who spoke on behalf of you,” Mace explains without even hearing your question. “She believes you to be quite capable.”

        Oh. Padmé…?

        You’re sure that Padmé doesn’t mean to, but her complimenting your skill like this is attracting a lot of attention. You already have to deal with enough attention from Palpatine, and to get it from anyone else is seriously starting to drain on the little energy you have left from general Jedi General business. Not that Riyo is trouble, or anything. You’re quite sure that she’s far from the definition of trouble, but… 

“I see,” is all you end up managing to say. “I don’t mind accepting the request. Will it be my next assignment?”

“If you accept, I’ll notify the Council,” Mace explains to you. “I’ll send you a detailed report of your assignment, but as of the moment, you are to accompany Kenobi and Skywalker to Orto Plutonia, a planet orbited by the moon Pantora, to investigate strange attacks.”

        Ah. Of course you’ll be pushed into Obi Wan’s path. How lucky.

“You won’t be leaving yet, however,” Mace adds before you can respond. “There is equipment you’ll be required to deliver to both Kenobi and Skywalker, so you will have to remain here for a day in order to prepare.”

“Of course,” you say, nodding. “Once you’ve notified the Council, you can send me the details and I’ll pass them over to my Commander.”

        And that’s all you need to promise before Mace seems satisfied. However, before he turns to leave you be, he pauses.

“Master Fisto mentioned searching through the archives for some clue to your abilities,” Mace begins, turning just enough to allow his face to partially face you. “I’m not sure of what he’s found yet, but he may seek you out to speak with you about what he might have found.”

        Being someone who welcomes any and all answers to your powers, you happily take in that possibility of Kit having something to put at least one question, hopefully, down to rest by giving Mace a nod. However, that doesn’t seem to be enough to send the man on his way because his eyes watch you carefully.

        And then he turns to face you properly.

“Is something troubling you?” he asks suddenly, now completely turned around.

“What?” 

        Could he… sense it?

“You look troubled,” he tells you, “and Depa tells me something may have happened on your last assignment with her.”

        Meaning… Depa never felt any disturbances and only assumed that something happened. Which makes sense seeing as the woman never questioned you at all after your less-than-pleasant fight with Obi Wan. And its not like your men to spread this kind of word around to people outside of your little legion.

        At least, you’re pretty sure they wouldn’t… 

“It must be the fatigue,” you lie as carefully as you can, even offering the man a smile. “I’ve been on assignment after assignment these days, after all.”

“Indeed you have been,” Mace says, his eyes watching you even more carefully than before.

        But he sighs regardless of what he might have or might not have found from his starting.

“You have some time before you’re to depart for your assignment,” Mace begins, nodding. “Make sure to rest while you can.”

“I will, Master Windu. I promise.”

        And that seems enough because he leaves you with actual goodbyes after that, allowing you to either rest like you promised or to become active again.

        You have no idea what might’ve kept Depa from knowing about all that happened, but you’re thankful, nonetheless. Perhaps, due to your special circumstances, you were saved? You’re not sure.

        So the question is elegantly to the side for now.

        Needless to say, you choose to postpone your promise to rest for after you finish off some other tasks that seem to be calling for your attention. You decide that, before you go searching for Kit and see if the Nautolan has anything for you, you need to make sure that Talon has what he needs in order to prepare for a trip to Orto Plutonia.

“Ah, Knight [l/n],” calls a voice.

        Ever the popular one, you seem to be. A conflicting life of both people who seem to prefer avoiding you with a surprisingly disproportionate amount of people who will choose to greet you rather than walk away at the sight of you.

        It’s usually the Jedi you work with who tend to make up the latter as if a little while with you is enough for them to warm up to you, or something.

        You turn, meeting your gaze with Ima-Gun, who surprisingly has his Commander at his side. From what you remember from your short moment providing some amount of support on Ryloth, his name should be Keeli.

“Master Di,” you make sure to greet, bowing your head to the man and watching as he returns the gesture. “Did you need something?”

“Not necessarily, but I believe my gratitude is in order for your invaluable assistance on Ryloth,” the Kajain'sa'Nikto male explains to you, smiling. “I’m afraid we parted ways too soon for me to have properly expressed my thanks.”

        The war often shuffles you about, so earning late gratitude isn’t exactly a rare thing. What’s rare is earning thanks at all in this fashion. Usually, a nod and a smile is enough and you’re sure you received that much before you’d left Ryloth for your next assignment while Ima-Gun remained for a little longer. You had to be rushed back to Coruscant on a request from Palpatine, after all, in order to help Padmé with that Banking Clan stuff from a little while ago, so it’s not like you had that much freedom to do much in general. 

        …

        Was your presence on Ryloth at that time anything different than the canon? You’re not… entirely sure, especially not when your memory fails to remember every single detail. It’s not like you can skimp out on any major events on the basis of an inkling warning you not to interfere on the canon events, anyway. You go where your assignments take you. You do remember Mace mentioning that you being there must’ve sped up the process of routing the Separatists there, but you’re not too sure if you truly made any difference.

        Oh well. What ends well, ends well. And the gratitude is nice, so you do offer him a smile.

“I’m just doing my duty,” you offer in return. “I’m glad that I could help.”

        Would he have died had you not been there? It's possible, so to see him here makes you glad that that didn't happen. 

        He leaves without holding you up for any longer once he's given you his proper goodbyes and you watch as he strides away, probably to get to his next assignment, considering the presence of his Commander. Keeli also manages to sneak in a rather low bow to you, his own cloud of gratitude wafting off of his figure as he does so, but he rushes off after his General before you can really thank him for his thanks.

        Upon deciding that it would be better to let him go and accept the thanks this time, you head off to continue what you were doing. Your feet end up taking you to your room to work on the next order of business in the comforts of someplace less open than the hallways.

“We’re to work with the 212th?” Talon’s unamused voice grumbles through your commlink. 

        It’s a good thing you’re in your room because then that means that no one will have to hear you talking to your own Commander about your apparent relationship difficulties. Or to hear that your Commander is quite unhappy with the next order of developments to come.

        Even if you don’t know for sure if many people outside of the 983rd know about the situation, you’re sure that what had happened spread like wildfire within the 983rd. Based on that, it shouldn’t be so concerning to see Talon so sour towards Obi Wan’s men seeing as their General decided to snap at you, so there’s little you can do that would actually get them to stop narrowing their eyes at even just the slightest mention of the 212th. 

        They still had to be able to work together with them… You’re pretty sure they wouldn’t screw anything over because of these ill feelings. Of course, you’re not doubting their ability to put those feelings aside when on the job or anything, but…

        Well, you still worry.

“They’re orders, Commander,” you remind the man. “As long as we do our job, Obi Wan won’t have any more issues with me. All we have to do is arrive, finish what we need to do, and then leave.”

“That doesn’t seem to be much, anyway,” Talon grumbles and you’re quite sure he’s looking over the assignment details. “With General Skywalker and General Kenobi there with plenty of men landing with them, there’s nearly no point in the 983rd being there.”

“Well, the Senator specifically requested for me, so it would make sense that there’s no need to deploy the men with me,” you reason. “I won’t go down alone, if that’s what you’re worried about, so I’ll bring one or two of the men. That way, I can avoid needing to pull men from the 501st or the 212th too.”

“Understood,” Talon tells you. “I’ll have everything prepared for departure.”

“Alright. Thank you, Talon.”

"Of course, General."

        You end the call and give yourself a moment to feel glad that Talon is such a good Commander. It’s a bit of a surprise to see him care about your wellbeing in all of this, but you do wish he didn’t worry so much. Feelings or not, you have a duty to carry out and not even a brief scuffle with Obi Wan is going to change that.

        Certainly not.

        …

        Even so, you let yourself groan into the privacy of your room before deciding that a walk to search for Kit would do you better than just sitting here thinking about Obi Wan.

        Anything would be better than that.

        When your eyes wander your long abandoned room, you find it a bit jarring to be seeing this place and finding it hard to decide whether or not your room aboard the Guardian is more your room than this or not. It’s a bit worrying to think that you’ve gone only a few months into this war and suddenly the room that you spend exhausted nights chatting with Anakin “in person” and with Obi Wan through your mind in the suspension of space feels more like your room than this one.

        …

        Again with the Obi Wan… 

        There’s a brief moment of concern wafting towards you, and though you hate to admit it, you’re a bit bothered by the fact that it isn’t Obi Wan, but Anakin instead.

        It's almost as if he were asking if you were alright through vague gestures alone. As you haven’t connected the two of you, the only thing that manages to reach you is his worries from systems away. If you close your eyes, you can almost vividly imagine him there with you, staring with worry drowned blue eyes.

        Not wanting to worry the young man, you offer your reassurance. A part of you wonders if the two men know you’re going to be where they are quite soon enough. 

        …

        You let out what might be the longest sigh you’ve granted yourself the pleasure of in a long time. The need to get your mind off of these two men who have no reason to be stuck in your head like a troubling earworm appears, rearing upwards, and you’re spurred to do something to drown your attention with.

        You’re about to storm out of the room in search of what Kit might’ve found before your eyes stop their wandering at the side table next to your bed. Pulling the drawer open, an action you're used to doing from a time when you spent entire days on the Grounds, you’re met with the special items you’d rather have hidden away than out in the open.

        The bag of stuff that Qui Gon entrusted to you has moved from the floor of your closet to the drawer, sitting next to a few papers with your scribblings marking the nearly pristine white colour. Both the padawan braids entrusted to you sit protectively against the wall of the drawer, but you try not to let your eyes linger on them for too long. The last of the significant objects in there capture your attention.

        You pluck out the disk with the holoimage of the mural, allowing for the image to appear before you looking just the same as you remembered it to look like. The details are there, the careful linework— Everything.

        If you showed this to Kit, would he know about the trio? Because from what you’ve gathered so far, you have no idea what relation you have with these three. Whatever the relation is, you know that it has to be significant. Perhaps even significant to explain away your reason for being here, because clearly, you’re in dire need of answers like that.

        Even after all this time, you still don’t know what happened to drag you from your home. You certainly would like to know, however, but to find that out, your first order of business would be to search around in the Holocron Chamber or even the Holocron Vault. Or, rather, pass what you know to Kit for him to look into what knowledge might be there seeing as you aren’t allowed inside of either.

        As you near the door of your room, you become increasingly aware of someone coming down the hall. It’s not like that’s a surprise, seeing as this is one of many living quarter areas, but it’s when you exit your room to see Kit’s face light up a little ways down the hall, that really surprises you. 

“Ah, perfect timing, [l/n]!” he greets with a bright smile and his usual void-filled eyes staring right at you, practically pulling the words from your mind. “I wished to speak with you about my search.”

“Have you found something?” you ask hopefully, curling your fingers around the disk in your hand. Letting the door close behind you, you make your way to Kit to meet him halfway.

        That’s when Kit’s smile falls a bit. “Unfortunately, I have not found anything that seems to have much bearing on your situation. My apologies, [l/n].”

        Well, you certainly weren’t expecting much.

“I still thank you for trying, Master Fisto,” you say to the older Jedi. “But I don’t think all is lost in this search. Not yet.”

        You lift the disc towards the Nautolan, and after blinking, he accepts the device. When the image appears before him, not that you mind that he’s revealing such an image out in the open space of the halls, he hums.

“Do you know anything about it?” you wonder curiously.

“I admit, I know nothing about this mural in particular,” Kit tells you, his eyes shifting from place to place. “However, I know that there are records of images like this.”

        “Records,” he tells you, and that’s both a surprise and not a surprise at the same time.

“Are they stored in the Holocron Chamber? Or the Holocron Vault?”

“I do believe I remember coming across such an image in the Holocron Chamber,” Kit explains to you, nodding. “The reason being is that we know little to nothing about such images. Any records of these murals must be studied, though I do not believe we have learned much so far.”

        Well, that would certainly make a lot of sense. When the whole Mortis Arc happened, it didn’t seem like anyone knew a thing about what had happened. You’re quite sure that Obi Wan would have reported a harrowing degree of detail on the matter, but that’s only after the fact. And nothing incredibly important was raised afterwards either. It all just sunk away into the same quiet that was present before all of that even happened.

        Meaning, you certainly have to hide what you already know about the trio in the image until… after the Mortis incident? Perhaps even after that? It might even be safer for you and the trio if you kept quiet completely.

“If it would not be of any trouble, Master Fisto,” you begin carefully, watching as the Nautolan allows the image to fade out with a single press of the middlemost button, “could you check the information the Temple has on this image or anything like it?”

        The way you ask is not without it’s bumps and grimaces as requesting such a search is a bit… much, but the Nautolan remains ever patient with you.

“But of course. Such a task would not take too long at all,” he reassures you. “Come with me. You may not be able to enter, but you are welcome to remain nearby.”

        And seeing as that was what you expected to have your involvement reduced to, you follow behind him without any issue.

        What is an issue, however—

        Kit had only just entered one of the two rooms with a promise to not to take too long as all he needs to do is match the image that’s recorded in the device to the existing knowledge present in the holocrons when something catches your attention. Your head turns to look down a particular hall, one that you’ve never been down before, as that strange something befalls over your senses. It’s faint and barely there, but you’re sure you caught the tail end of something. If you weren’t out in the halls just standing around, nearly bored out of your mind, you wouldn’t have caught it at all, you're pretty sure.

        It felt cold, in any case, and the cold feeling is a curious thing. There was something almost… familiar about it.

        You’re sure you should have quite a good bulk of time meant for waiting, meaning if you were to slip away, Kit may not notice your departure. The entire procedure sounds a bit complicated too, though the look on Kit’s face tells you that he didn’t seem to mind or find it a tricky feat.

        Before long, you’re wandering your way down the hall. The feeling isn’t wholly there anymore, but that brief hint of it was enough for you to know generally where to go, and so that’s where you go. Eventually, as another almost barely-there pulse breezes by you again, you pause when it hits your mental shields.

        Now you know why it feels familiar. 

        And when the only thing that appears before you in your mind is the images of Palpatine and Dooku, you get the feeling you know exactly what it is.

        The Dark Side. Here.

        … 

        Why and how is it here?

        You look down at the floor beneath your feet. You’re in a small chamber of some sort where a few hallways intersect, which isn’t really all that suspicious, and nothing about the patterning stretching across the floor looks to be or seems to be any cause of much concern either. If you hadn’t caught the little bit of that strange feeling before, you’d never have noticed this place.

        But here it is and how ominously does it weigh on your shoulders too.

        Why would the Dark Side be so strong here? From what you learned, this is quite the old Jedi Temple built on a vergence of some sort where the Force is particularly strong, so there shouldn’t be any reason for the Dark Side to be here.

        Crouching lower to the ground, you let your fingers run along the flooring. Something isn’t quite right about this place, and even though you can’t feel it all that much anymore, it’s definitely not a good idea to just assume that there’s nothing going on. If there was truly nothing going on here, after all, you wouldn’t have caught that momentary flicker of the Dark Side.

        And you’re sure it wasn’t anything like any Sith’s Signature. At least, not of any Sith you’ve met, and you’ve met all of the active ones already. Not yet Maul, that’s for sure, but there’s no way he’s here and so close to the Temple.

        So why?

        Despite not knowing about the finer details of this place from your time before, you do remember something that was mentioned before about how the Jedi, their senses, and overall connection to the Force had become clouded at some point somewhat recently. You admittedly don’t feel very different or at all worse than usual, but that could just be because of your greater sensitivity to the Force itself. 

        Or it could be that the disturbance has been around long before you arrived, allowing you to live through it and therefore get used to it right from the start. Maybe this normalcy that you feel isn’t at all normal, actually.

“In a curious place you are, young [l/n].”

        A voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you look up to see Yoda making his careful way over to you, hobbling along with his cane as usual. He seems to smile just enough to give you a reason to think that something is wrong and so you stand to full height again.

        You weren’t in some sort of forbidden area, were you? You’re sure you didn’t meet with any resistance on your way here.

“The Force guided me here,” you try to explain, eyes wandering around. Now that you’re more focused on your surroundings rather than your the darkness, you realised that you’ve traveled quite the distance down many flights of stairs.

        Wherever this place is, you’ve never been here before.

“What is this part of the Temple?” you wonder, glancing down at the senior Jedi with you. 

“The lower levels, this place is. Come here, not many do, on a whim, hm?” Yoda explains to you, eyes flickering around for a moment before looking up at you.

        You certainly don’t know much about the far gone history of this place, and with Yoda’s inquisitive eyes on you, you’re not really sure what to say or think. Especially not about the place you’re in. The cool feeling doesn’t return, but there’s this teeny, tiny beckoning coming from below your feet.

        In the air around you, however, you feel a slight shift. It’s the neutral air again, feeling heaving with the presence of more than just one. However, in some way, it feels less neutral than before. One side is heavier, and in that tipping motion, you feel the same darkness.

        Whatever’s clinging to you, growing a bit heavier here of all places, seems to be of the Dark Side. You’re sure of it. And on the other hand, seeing as it feels so neutral all the time, that other half must be the Light Side. 

        But why?

        Yet again, you’re not sure.

        Maybe you had something to do with those two— the Daughter and the Son— after all.

“I sensed the Dark Side here,” you end up relaying to Yoda, fully aware that he might even already know. “But I’m not sure why.”

        Yoda hums, nodding to your words or something else beyond your comprehension or perception. “Troubling, that is. Your senses, not often are they wrong, I’m afraid.”

“Can you not feel anything strange about this place?” you ask him curiously.

        Despite hoping for answers, you watch as he just shakes his head. 

        Strange… 

“Do you… really believe me then?” you can’t help but ask. “It’s hard to believe that the Grand Temple would house anything that feels like the Dark Side.”

“Many things, there are, that we do not know,” Yoda offers to you. “Through the Force, understand these things we can. Because I cannot while you can, trust you I will.”

        Huh. Somehow, it’s hard to believe that he would just believe you like that, but you see the way his eyes flicker away from yours. They don’t seem to be running away from your gaze, no. They seemed to be about something else, but you’ve never been one to be able to read Yoda very well. You’re careful of him, of course, watching him from the corner of your gaze for any measure of eyes watching you in return from time to time, but nothing turns up. And perhaps he, along with many other Jedi, are doing the same with you. 

        It would be hopeful thinking to assume that they weren’t, to some degree, observing you from afar, after all. As if they were waiting for something to inevitably reach some sort of thrilling conclusion.

        You’re no stranger to this sort of… cautious trust, of sorts. The Council and many other Jedi treat you like that and you know that. They have treated you like that for quite some time. It would be strange if you weren’t familiar with that sort of thing by now.

        Regardless of your thoughts, you find it a bit strange to know that Yoda doesn’t find it too hard to just believe in you. It’s nice, yes, but there are plenty of other people who might’ve benefitted from this sort of trust in place of you. Like Anakin when he needed the support the Order wasn’t planning on giving him easily.

        Not that you’re going to take this gift for granted or think any less of this gift that Yoda seems to have graciously offered to you. Because of that, and the slight sensation of finding your wary thoughts useless and downright traitorous to the Jedi next to you, you’re quick to discard it. 

        If Yoda was going to be selective with his faith, who are you to judge considering the fact that you trust next to no one with your own secrets? To be frank, you’re not really that much better than the Order who keeps secrets from their own Jedi in a time of great need for better cohesion.

“Nearly ready, Master Fisto is for you, [l/n],” Yoda suddenly tells you, glancing up the stairs. “Go, you should. Answers he may have, yes?”

        He hums inquisitively, peeking his eyes towards you and very clearly making a show of expecting something out of you, though you’re not quite sure of what that might be. You do wish to stay and chat with him about this strange Dark Side business, but the need to understand your origins wins out just slightly. You nod to the older Jedi in the end, earning a nod in return, before you make your way back to the place you’d left behind for this mini adventure.

        This issue will be dealt with eventually, probably. It seems quite important, but right now you have more presently important things like the war and your origins to think about. Even if whatever that other business is truly as important or more important, you’re sure you should have time to, for the moment, just push it onto the back burner for now.

        And when you arrive back, you see Kit stepping out of the room.

“I’m sorry for running off, Master Fisto,” you make sure to say, lowering your head into a bit of a bow. 

“It is of no concern. I’m glad to see that you’ve returned, in any case,” Kit reassures you and you note the way the Force around him swirls with a downcasted tone. “My apologies, but I could not find anything helpful in the records.”

        His troubled emotions must be about not having been able to help you at all, but it’s not like it comes to much of a surprise. In fact, it’s just as you expected. When he hands something out to you— your disc— you take it back.

        Kit hums, obviously curious with the turn of events that has led to nothing new. “May I ask where Master Jinn found you? Knowing may aid in any future searches.”

        You come close to reassuring him that he won’t need to expend so much time for you, but a part of you tells you that that might be a useless move. After all, Kit seems like the type to continue searching regardless of what you say all for the sake of helping you.

        Which is quite nice of him.

“Jedha,” you answer, shaking your head when you sense his slight growth in excitement. “But nowhere near anything that seemed distinguishably important.”

        At least, this is all based on what you’ve managed to scrounge up so far.

“I understand that the Temple of the Whills is on the same moon, but the temple Master Jinn found me with was nearly halfway around the moon and quite small,” you explain carefully, reciting the hopeless conclusions of your search. “The records had next to nothing to say about that small temple.”

“Regardless, Jedha is of great importance,” Kit says, nodding towards you and then the disc. “For the Force, especially.”

        He hums, part of his head still thinking and theorizing, it seems.

“As you’d mentioned earlier, I understand that you do not remember anything from before the time Master Jinn brought you here?” Kit asks you.

        That’s an understatement. You knew a lot more than anyone else alive in this world, you’d like to think, but a lot of that stuff might be better off not recorded in the Jedi Archives or in anyone else’s head. At least not until they can discover it themselves.

        Which, especially considering this Family Trio, should definitely be left alone for now so that they can discover this sort of thing naturally. Who knows what kind of trouble might show up if you were to interfere and give them answers to something that may grossly change something of the future.

        You may be foolishly brave enough to take on Palpatine in a one-on-one match of outsmarting each other, but you’re not nearly foolish enough to try your luck with outsmarting whatever turns the gears of fate or whatever’s keeping the Family Trio from having already been discovered. Well, you’re not planning to start being that foolish anytime soon.

“Nothing,” you answer with a simple shake of your head. “But the other observation that Master Jinn made was that I appeared to have no family.”

        Kit’s face seems to darken just slightly. “Do you know what might have happened to them?”

“Not at all,” you answer. “Master Jinn said none of the surrounding villages recognized me.”

        As if you’d suddenly appeared one day. If you were to consider “you” as the current sentient life within the body, then yes, you certainly did appear one day, but the body is something you knew close to nothing about. Nobody would have any of the answers you so desperately want to know.

        Nobody but the Force and maybe that Family Trio, probably.

“It looks as though we’ve hit a dead end,” Kit says with a deep frown and a furrow of his brow. When you finally pocket the device, earning his gaze as you do, you can sense the way he seems to apologize through the Force towards you even before he parts his lips to speak. “My apologies once again, [l/n].”

        It’s a nice change of pace to see someone so welcoming of your search for answers. You haven’t personally heard any backlash about your on and off search for where or what you might’ve come from— at least, not yet— but you’re sure that there must be a handful of Jedi who think of your search as less than ideal seeing as it’s so woven into that idea of attachments, in a way. So to have someone so willing to search around for your benefit, even if it has so far ended with little to be gained, you’re still quite happy.

        Though, one good thing is that learning nothing might be far better than learning about bad news. Whatever “bad news” might entail for your situation, that is. 

“There’s no need for you to apologize, Master Fisto,” you reassure once more. “I wasn’t expecting much, truthfully.”

        Kit offers you a smile despite your words. “Had you been given access to Vault or Chamber, surely you’d have come to such a discovery far earlier than now. It’s a pity that Master Windu hasn’t offered to aid in your search for answers.”

        He did, technically. He’s the one who brought you to Jedha on a mission that led you near that area. The trip hadn’t been helpful in the slightest, but it did grant you the chance to see that yes, the temple is far too gone to be of any help. You’re quite sure that he must’ve done some research on his own time, probably to try and learn what sort of person his new padawan was, only to find so little that he didn’t even bother to speak to you about it.

        Or maybe he was hoping to speak to you when he finally managed to find something. Which, seeing as he hasn’t spoken to you about the topic save for simply requesting a copy of the mural holoimage, might mean that all this time the search has been as fruitless for him as it has been for you.

“As a Jedi, I probably shouldn't be so dedicated in searching for my origins, so I guess it’s fine,” you say reassuringly. “Master Windu also said that I may eventually have access to the rooms on my own some day, so I suppose I can simply wait for that. Perhaps there will be more information to sort through by then as well.”

        Mace certainly has high expectations of you, in that case. Though becoming a Master might be an honour you’ll receive at some point down the road, granting you access into the Holocron Chamber, it’s the Holocron Vault that requires a seat on the Council. Which, if you were being honest, isn’t something you’re expecting the honour of anytime soon.

“As a Jedi Master and perhaps even a member of the Council yourself, no doubt,” Kit declares regardless of your thoughts with an approving nod, "he as well as many others have high faith in you, [l/n].”

        …

        Again with that strange haphazard trust… 

        Now that you think about it, layering his words over the words you received from Yoda, to hear about having at least some measure of trust from the Council certainly is… surprising. They’re a little on the conservative side, after all, not at all thinking in the same way as you do, so you expect— and know — that you’re a bit at odds with them. Whatever confidence or faith they have in you, you’re not quite sure you can believe it’s the same kind of faith that they’d give to Obi Wan or Mace.

        Yes, you’re definitely hesitant to assume as much.

        They certainly don’t hate you, you know that much for sure. You’re just an anomaly half of the time— an anomaly that continues to baffle those careful in maintaining the old ways— so it stands to make sense that they would… well, feel conflicted with you, you suppose. You’re quite like some sort of an embodiment of something their traditionalistic ways don’t match well with, and you know that very well. Hearing about the Council’s trust in you doesn’t make you feel particularly positive or negative.

        Just… meh.

        They’re hesitant with you just as much as you are towards them, after all. Clearly, they seem to trust you enough to keep you around but you know best that those stares… those ones you’ve never failed to receive at least once in a while since your power began to mutate into uncertainty… They’ve never gone away.

        Not completely, anyway, even during these times.

        Still, Kit’s words are fine. They’re better than fine, actually, and you’re now sure that Kit is one of the few on the Council that you would consider to be less on the “hesitant” side and more on the “supportive" side for you. His words, even if you’re just being hopeful, are most likely of deep rooted and genuine faith rather than silent judgement and it manages to bring a smile onto your face. 

        Upon seeing that, the Nautolan returns the gesture.

“Fear not of the boundaries that may seem to limit your search for answers. After all, knowledge of your origins is but the first step in understanding your abilities,” Kit advises to you, giving you quite the breath of fresh air in terms of wise advice. “And such a quest is never easy.”

        And you know that, but to hear that from a great Jedi Master such as Kit, you feel a bit more reassured about your long, long search for something you may never actually get to learn about. Not that that’s all that troubling. You could probably do what you’ve set out to do without knowing or understanding this whole origin thing and not be too troubled by it.

        It would be nice to know, though, but you know not to hope for too much at this point.

“Thank you, Master Fisto. I’m glad to have spoken with you about this matter,” you make sure to say with plenty of gratitude showing, “even if I probably could have come across it on my own sometime in the future.”

“Of course,” comes both his boundless desire for understanding and kindness.

        So even if it was all a bust again in terms of getting answers, it didn’t end that badly at all.

        And with so much of your mind cropping up Master Jinn this and Master Jinn that, you eventually find yourself wandering your way to one of the specific rooms in the Halls of Healing that has been preoccupied for nearly two decades. The Healers don’t stop you when you appear so suddenly without any injuries or anything else to treat and they don’t stop you either when you continue your way along to the room that doesn’t exactly house someone fit to greet visitors. 

        At least he hasn’t been slated to be stuck in some sort of bacta tank for who knows how long. You take a pause at the door, waiting for your presence to be recognized so that the door may open.

        The man inside isn’t fit to take visitors, yet when you enter the room, someone is already there to lift their head to meet your eyes. Not Qui Gon, obviously, but someone you know only from one or possibly two memories from a long, long time ago.

“Mast—” you begin out of habit, already ready to lower the top half of your body into a bow, but the man moves first to silence your words already halfway into utterance with a single lifted hand.

        You clamp your mouth shut at the sight of the action.

“I told you, didn’t I?” the blond man asks you, lips curling into a smile as he speaks. "There’s no need for formalities. You may call me by my name.”

        He then pauses, blinking his blue eyes at you with a hum. “Unless you’ve forgotten?”

        Well, considering that the last time you remember meeting this man was also the first time you met him— though you do remember having seen him from afar— it would make sense for you to have forgotten, maybe. It was so long ago, the first meeting, that even the last time you saw Qui Gon still awake could be considered to have happened closer to present day than meeting him. After all, this man had to leave for a long, long term mission quite some time ago— watching over the restoration of some vergence in Wild Space, or something like that— meaning that he had left months before any mention of a mission to a blockade over Naboo ever appeared.

        He was one of those faces that came and went in your life. You never thought of him as being important to the plot like names such as Anakin Skywalker or Mace Windu, but he was nice. In fact, he was far nicer and so much more… positive than so many others you’ve met. Or, possibly equally as bright as someone like Kit, you suppose.

        And the name Feemor isn’t easy to forget either.

“No, I haven’t forgotten, Feemor,” you greet the man with a curt nod to replace the bow you would have done had he not stopped you. “I see you’re back from your mission. How was it?”

        Your words are carefully chosen. He may be treating you with casual kindness, but you know not to overstep your boundaries with such a man who’s both a Master and trusted enough to be tasked with such time burdening missions.

“Well, plenty of empty days, that’s for sure. Nothing of the grand adventure you all seem to have these days,” he muses lightheartedly towards you, nodding before his eyes grow softer— sadder, actually— at the sight of you and then the sight of the man on the bed when he turns away. “Much has happened since I was last around, it seems.”

        It’s a given that this man would look so heartbroken at how this place changed so drastically while he was gone. A world thrown into the chaos of war without much of a semblance to the earlier tranquility it had… Sure those days also felt like a ticking bomb just waiting to blow at the worst time, but at least they were easier than these days. Not exactly happier days, but better in some ways.

        It’s a pity that Feemor had given up the need for monthly or even yearly reports from the Temple during his stay so far away, something you’d overheard at some point. Because of such a detached choice, he didn’t even get to hear about his own Master’s descent into a coma. Had the same thing happened with you and Mace, you’re not sure how you’d feel about it too.

        You’d feel bad, you assume, but Feemor seems to be handling it well.

“I’m sorry,” is all that you find yourself saying. Feemor looks towards you with a bright smile.

“There is nothing to worry about whatsoever,” Feemor reassures you cheerily. “In fact, I hear that it had been you who saved his life. I am grateful to you.”

        His almost foreign, swishing robes quiver with each miniscule movement as he lowers his top half into a bow.

“So thank you, young [l/n].”

“It really isn’t anything to bow to me for,” you try to reassure, making your way closer to fortunately see him standing up to full height again with his blue eyes watching you carefully. “I simply did what I should’ve done— what anyone would have done.”

“But even you deserve gracious words every once and awhile,” Feemor tells you, looking over you happily. “You have grown far more skilled and wise since I last saw you all those years ago. And a mighty surprise that is considering how wise you already were!”

        To be honest, his energy is something you truly missed from a time before that dark day on Geonosis. To think that even with all the surprises he must’ve come across in returning, he could remain the same as the man you remember. Or, the man of the little moment you remember.

“I haven’t had a chance to contact him myself,” Feemor begins once more, sounding rather hopeful this time, “but how is Obi Wan these days? Well, I hope? When I spoke to Master Unduli, she told me that he is well, but I know that you’re also close with him.”

        Oh…

        You weren’t really sure if the man knew about your close relationship with Obi Wan since you didn’t really know him very well yourself, but considering the fact that this man is one of Qui Gon’s three padawans that you heard about in passing from Obi Wan, probably, and considering his words, he must know of your closeness with his younger padawan brother.

“I think he should be fine these days. If Master Unduli says so, I would assume so,” is your simple answer and you watch as his blue eyes seem to notice something you didn’t think you were letting show.

“Has something happened between the two of you?” Feemor wonders curiously, getting straight to the point, it seems. 

“Just a simple disagreement,” you explain with as little detail as you can, not at all in the mood to explain any more than that. And especially not to someone you’re technically meeting for the second time.

        Qui Gon’s first padawan or not, you can’t really say you know him well enough to rant as you might do with Anakin or even Talon. Meaning, he gets the bare minimum. Just to keep any panic or lectures at bay. Because the last thing you need is some Jedi Master lecturing you about dwindling the connectivity between Jedi over some fight.

        Feemor hums, nodding as if to accept such a halfhearted answer that can’t possibly be the entire story. Still, he doesn't seem to press any further. You can see the way Feemor’s eyes wander their way towards the man laying almost peacefully in the bed, thinking carefully to himself, you assume.

        And following his line of sight, you also look towards the man you now realise you don’t normally find the time to visit. However, if any part of your mind wonders why you choose not to come here often, it’s the sight of the man who so warmly brought you to the Temple and treated you just as kindly simply laying in the bed without any signs of life that reminds you why you don’t come here often. 

        You’ve visited before, of course. A few times with Anakin, a fair amount of times with Obi Wan, and a handful of times on your own. These days, however, with all that there is to do all the time, you can’t say you’ve been visiting all that much.

        It makes your heart squeeze just a bit at the thought of it.

        The man barely looks as though he’s aged either, which is strange. Almost as if this strange comatose state that he’s been tossed into is nothing short of a moment of frozen time. He looks every bit the man you remember sitting across from you, watching curiously as you worked your magic with those abilities that didn’t seem to scare him away. He accepted your abilities with ease and an innocent yet comfortable curiosity, two things you didn’t receive from many during those days. When he awakens, whenever that maybe, you’re sure that it will be as if no time has passed.

        When, in reality, so much of it has already.

        Maybe that’s why you find that your legs never fail to avoid this place during free time.

“Was it because of Obi Wan himself?”

        You glance up from the man in the bed to Feemor, watching as the man rubs his chin in deep thought. His voice was just above that of a mumble so you’re not sure if Feemor was even talking to you. Considering where his eyes seem to be looking, which seem to be Qui Gon himself, he might not have been speaking to you.

        At least not directly. Not yet.

“He’s always been quite the fiery one, deep down,” Feemor adds, and it’s only now that he lifts his blue eyes to you. “I trust that he hasn’t said anything particularly rude? It seems he’s taken after Master Jinn in terms of his rather sarcastic speech, unfortunately.”

        Obi Wan certainly has that, you’ve figured. If anything, Obi Wan is truly a man of words— both of the positive and negative sort.

“It’s fine,” you tell the older man and the smile you earn for that answer is something full of regret and a bit of worry.

        And just as you’re about to fear being interrogated and pushed into making up like you were hoping to avoid, Feemor simply turns to look towards Qui Gon once more.

“In many ways, it seems like Obi Wan is every bit the same young boy tailing after Master Jinn, eh?” Feemor says with a light tone, the smile on his face clear and full of mirth. His eyes flicker towards you. “Just as you are every bit the same youngling I remember meeting so long ago. I am glad that, even with the galaxy as it is currently, you both are the same.”

        …

        Huh…

“And I’m glad that you’re still so positive as well, Feemor,” you say in return, glancing towards Qui Gon. “I’m sure Master Jinn would also be happy to hear that you’re still the same. Years in Wild Space or not.”

        Feemor chuckles at that with a smile growing larger before he looks to Qui Gon with a deep bow. When he looks towards you again, there’s a goodbye already etched in his eyes.

“I must speak to Master Yoda now about my new responsibilities, but it was truly a gift to be able to speak to you once more,” he tells you. “I must thank you for granting me a moment of your time, [l/n].”

“Of course,” you say, not entirely sure of how else to respond. “I enjoyed our chat. It’s been long since our last one.”

        Feemor’s smile doesn’t waver in the slightest, even as he lowers his head into a slight bow. You do the same out of respect and reciprocity, very nearly leading him into scaring you out of your bow when he flusters at the way you return his gesture. He certainly holds you to quite a high regard, and that’s the only puzzling thought you have as you watch him leave you behind in the room.

        All in all, Feemor certainly has interesting energy. Especially compared to all other Jedi you’ve met, and that’s surprising considering the approximate two decades you've spent meeting so many people here.

        He could even be considered like a breath of fresh air, you suppose. Very much like Winger’s positivity, but much more… boyish, in a way.

        Maybe.

        And now free to do as you wish in the silence and lonesome, you turn your attention from the long since closed door to the only other person in the room with you.

“Hello, Master Jinn,” you greet the comatose man, making your way to a spot next to the bed. “How are you?”

        You don’t expect an answer whatsoever. It just feels better to greet him rather than to acknowledge the silence that lays in front of you. Stuck like this, you wonder, just like all other times of visiting, if you even did the right thing to cling to the man’s life. Would he have been happy to know that you saved him if it meant to lock him into such a prison?

        …

        You’re not sure. You’d have to ask him to know but it’s obvious that you’re not getting any kind of answer from the man anytime soon.

        When you close your eyes, just to bring about a calmer state of mind, what you sense between you and the man for only a split second, since you’re not at all trying to meditate, looks to be something like a Bond. A thin thread-like line breaking through the darkness of a space far away from the eye can see.

        A connection that seems to bind you to the glow of a person— Qui Gon— only the glow looks smaller and weaker than any kind of connection you’ve seen before. Which you suppose makes sense since the person that this thing represents and connects to isn’t at all really… here and active, at the moment.

        You can barely feel him there in front of you, in all honesty, and opening your eyes reminds you that he certainly is there. He hasn’t left, of course. You’d notice if he woke up or anything.

        When will he awaken, you can’t help but wonder.

        A gentle whisper of a voiceless voice seems to answer you in your head. It’s the Force, in some manner, and, “soon,” it seems to whisper to your general Jedi senses.

        “Soon…” that presence seems to tell you, but what are the chances of “soon” being the end of this war— the end of everything to come? Because that end doesn’t necessarily match up with the dictionary definition of “soon” all that well.

“Soon…”

        A part of your heart wishes that it could be sooner. Even if that means it’ll all end that much sooner. You’re not sure how much more pressure must be waiting for you the closer to make it to that end, but you know it might come close enough to make you crumble.

        And maybe you will. You’re not all that sure.

        Suddenly, the world seems that much lonelier. You can feel the way Anakin’s Signature flicks at your shields with fearful concern, and without holding back, you let the way he seems to care so much for you despite being only a friend engulf you for a moment. The act is enough to calm his worries somewhat, meaning he must take your welcoming acceptance as a good thing, and you let yourself feel as content as you allow yourself to.

        Which is really only partially.

        Even with Anakin’s presence reminding you of what you’re fighting for, you can’t help but wish Obi Wan’s Signature could be here with you as well. The feeling of intense yearning is nearly strong enough to knock you off your feet, but it doesn’t. All it does is grab your heart in a painfully strong grip as if it were threatening to crush it at any second.

        There’s virtually nothing from Obi Wan's end and you try to, though it sounds a bit rude, settle with the warmth that Anakin so graciously offers to you. And it nearly kills you to do so because of the fact that you may be intruding on a relationship you really, really don’t want to involve yourself in. But you just can’t help it.

        Selfish… That is what you are for wanting so much.

        If only things were different.

        If Feemor hadn’t left, you wouldn’t have needed to be left alone with your thoughts and worries and that voice speaking to you from the edge of somewhere beyond where you are, but he did. If only you had the spirit that Feemor seemed to carry with him all the time because then, maybe, you wouldn't need to be so burdened by all these very human, yes, but also very annoying troubles.

        You let your eyes lift up towards Qui Gon’s sleeping expression, taking in the way he looks so peaceful as if he weren’t in a coma. The room is drowning in silence as if there wasn’t a war being waged across the stars, claiming lives day after day. The war won’t last long, you know that, but even three years can feel like eternity.

        You just wish that this wasn’t the reality you had to return to each time you opened your eyes again. Or, well, a part of you wishes that.