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counting all the mistakes

Summary:

“You miss him.”

Obi-Wan’s voice was hoarse. “Very much.”

“Where is he now?”

“Far away.”

“I hope you see your friend again soon. You’ll find him.”

“Or he’ll find me,” he muttered.

Leia nodded. “Exactly! Stay positive.”

Notes:

This fic is a continuation of "lost a friend" but it can be read as a standalone. It picks up from Part II of Kenobi.

The title is from a line from "I Lost a Friend" by FINNEAS.

Also, I saw a post on Tumblr the other day about how both Leia and Obi-Wan think they're babysitting the other and OP was so right.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Ben… Ben!” A small hand was tugging at his sleeve.

Obi-Wan stared at Leia dazedly. She seemed less real than the very real, very alive presence in the Force that he just felt.

“What is going on?” Her big brown eyes stared up at him. “It’s like your brain isn’t even there. I know you’re upset.”

“I’m…” He shook his head to clear the haze.

“Is it because you killed someone?” Her voice was innocent.

He stared at her, aghast. “What?”

She counted off of her fingers. “Well, for one, you must’ve fought that Inquisiting lady. And you’re here now, alive. And you’re upset. I would be upset too if I killed someone, even if I had to so that I could survive.”

“That’s not something a ten-year-old should say,” he murmured, still taken aback.

“So I’m right then.” She nodded, as if the matter was settled.

“No, that’s not what I—” He sighed. “I didn’t kill her.”

“Oh.” Her eyes searched his face. “Then what’s wrong?”

It could be easy to tell her that he was worried that the Inquisitors would come after them, or some other believable half-truth given their situation. But with that unfamiliar-but-familiar young face looking up at him, he found himself admitting, “I was thinking about a… friend of mine.”

“Your leader friend.”

“…Yes.” From a certain point of view.

She walked over to the window across from him and looked out into the sea of stars. “So you’re upset that I’m here.” Her voice was quiet. “Because I remind you of her.”

“No, not at all. I’m happy that you’re here. That you’re safe.”

She let out a snort. “Yeah, you sound super excited.” Her small shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh. “It’s okay. You wouldn’t be the first.”

“The first…?”

“To not want me around. My cousin made that very clear.” The window’s transparisteel reflected her scowl.

That loneliness, bitterness, anger… His ‘leader friend’ wasn’t the only friend she reminded him of.

“You are wanted, Leia,” he said gently. “Your parents are proof of that. They love you very much.”

She took the broken droid from her pocket and fidgeted with it, petting the white panels like it could feel her caress.

You couldn’t save Anakin, but you can save her.

But how could this be comparable?

He only rescued a child from kidnappers—not a small accomplishment, of course, but nothing as monumental as preventing the downfall of the most powerful Jedi that ever lived.

Moreover, not only did he not save Anakin, he left him to a fate worse than death. The anguish and hatred that Anakin must have been tormented with all this time—Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine it. After ten years of only the Dark Side supporting his life, how much was left of the man he used to be?

Did he ever grin, make sarcastic comments, roll his eyes? Complain, poke fun, spontaneously and recklessly seek adventure? Did he still tinker with droids, crash every other landing?

“Huh.” Leia was facing him now, head tilted. The corner of her lips quirked upwards. “You actually have a nice smile. For an old man.”

A laugh escaped from him unexpectedly. “Is that how you were taught to speak to your elders?”

She grinned fully now and pointed at him like a prosecuting attorney. “So you admit it! You are old.”

“Older than you,” he shot back. “And therefore wiser.” A memory tugged at him. Had he had this conversation before?

Her shoulder rose and fell in a half-shrug. “Eh.” She sat down to inspect her droid.

That flippant irreverence! Force, how she reminded him of Anakin. And he had thought her resemblance to Padmé was uncanny. If she was as similar to Anakin as she seemed…

“You need an outlet.” And a Master if—Force forbid it—she turned out to be Force-sensitive.

Her eyes stayed on the droid. “Not yet. She needs to be fixed first and then she can recharge.”

Who? Oh, the droid. “I mean emotionally. A way of letting out what you feel inside without it affecting yourself or others negatively. For example, instead of running away, maybe try—”

“I didn’t mean to run away away! I just… ran off. It’s different, okay?” She continued tinkering.

He watched her, fingers absently tugging on his beard.

Despite being unequipped for the task, the girl poked and prodded around in the exposed wiring, face scrunched up in concentration. She didn’t seem to know exactly what she was doing, but was evidently intent on making use of whatever knowledge and skills she did have on hand. Curious, passionate, determined, resourceful—just like Anakin.

If Anakin could see her now, what would he think? Would he be delighted to find his daughter so beautiful and clever like her mother, so mischievous and confident like himself? Or would he let loose his fury on Obi-Wan, raging at him for turning his family against him, for cutting him off from any semblance of future happiness together with them?

His chest clenched and his hand dropped to clasp the other in his lap. He squeezed his fingers together, but the habitual clasp didn’t do much to soothe his distress.

She looked up abruptly. “What now?”

“What?” He blinked.

“Are you okay? You have a—” she gestured vaguely— “feeling again.”

“…How do you know that?”

Her lips pursed. “I dunno. I guess I can just tell. Your hands are like that, and your feet are pointing toward the door—that means you’re uncomfortable. I know all about body language.”

“Hm, do you?” he murmured politely, mind racing. Had she really noticed those things out of the corner of her eye? She had been concentrating hard on the droid—he didn’t recall seeing her look up for a while. Could it be that she had sensed his unease through the Force before noticing his body language…?

She put down the droid and heaved a sigh. “Just tell me about it. You’re still thinking about that friend, aren’t you?”

“Well…”

“Out with it,” she commanded.

That coaxed a small smile from him. “Yes, your Highness.”

She gave him a look.

“Leia,” he amended. He looked down at his hands. “Well, Leia, to be quite honest, I’ve been thinking of another friend of mine. He was a Jedi, before you were born—my own pupil.” He spoke slowly, taking time to choose the right words. “As a Padawan, he was adventurous, strong-willed, and bold, and as a Knight, even more so. Many of the other Jedi saw those qualities in a negative light, and I’ll admit I often did too. But I know his passion was well-intended; he deeply cared about his friends and family, and stood up for what he believed in, even if everyone was against him. I trusted him with my life, and during the Clone Wars, he saved it more times than I can count.” He couldn’t help but smile a little at the memory. “He was a bright star.”

“He sounds nice.” After a pause, she ventured, “Did he…?”

“Die? No, surprisingly. …Thankfully.” His gaze traced back and forth over the ridges and grooves of the metal beams making up the floor. “We grew apart.” Tears pricked at his eyes. “He took a path in life that I couldn’t follow. So we parted ways.”

“You miss him.”

His voice was hoarse. “Very much.”

“Where is he now?”

“Far away.”

“I hope you see your friend again soon. You’ll find him.”

“Or he’ll find me,” he muttered.

She nodded. “Exactly! Stay positive.”

He forced a tight-lipped smile. “Hm.”

Positive.

He’s been looking for you for a very long time.

Obi-Wan shuddered. Even his nightmares only dealt with re-living different versions of the past—watching the security hologram of his former Padawan killing the others in the temple, choking on sobs and ash as his most trusted friend lay dismembered and burning beyond recognition, standing by helplessly while Padmé gave her last bit of life to her crying children. There was nothing in his dreams about future horrors; maybe his brain hadn’t been able to even conceive the thought.

On the rare nights when sleep showed him undeserved mercy, his dreams were laced with longing for times before: going on peace-keeping missions with Anakin; spending some much-needed downtime with Anakin, Ahsoka, Cody, and Rex; coincidentally running into a certain beautiful young senator for the fifth time in one week, to both her and Anakin’s apparent surprise. Nice as those dreams were, they only served as more reminders of what he had lost.

Now that he knew Anakin was alive, what would the night bring him?

If his mind would take Leia’s advice and ‘stay positive’, maybe in his dream Anakin would smile, embrace him, assure him that yes, while they had both made many mistakes, none of that mattered anymore because they could finally be friends again.

If not, would he see Anakin’s mangled body advancing towards him amid flames, seeking vengeance with malice in his eyes?

Only time would tell. Nightfall was already upon them, but Obi-Wan would not be able to sleep, with how his heart was pounding. Mercy probably wasn’t coming his way, anyway.

Did Anakin still hate him?

Or maybe…?

Obi-Wan... There's good in him... I know, I know there's... still…

His heart ached at the memory.

Blinded by love and overcome with exhaustion and pain, Padmé hadn’t known what she was talking about. Her husband, his brother, who they had known and loved was gone.

That night, Obi-Wan’s hope had died along with her.

Or so he had thought.

A light touch on his hand made him jump.

Leia looked apologetic for startling him, but she kept her hand there, watching his further reaction.

He relaxed. Oh, that’s right. They were on a cargo transport to Mapuzo, and then to their final destination of Alderaan. He shook his head to orient himself.

Now that they had exited the haze of Daiyu’s polluted glow, the ship was dark for the most part, but the soft light of a nearby system was draped over the little princess like a royal garment.

He gratefully took her hand in his. Her fingers were so small, they just barely managed to reach around his index finger. He brushed his thumb against her knuckles, marveling at how the baby he had been holding in his arms ten years ago on that fateful night was here beside him—now a young girl holding his hand in an attempt to ground him. Despite the destruction and pain, somehow life had found a way to transform that marred moment into something to celebrate and cherish. Out of death, life; out of despair, hope.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem so dark where they were.

“You are a very special child,” he told her, reverence in his voice. “Your existence is a good, beautiful, and sacred thing.”

Half-shy, Leia mumbled, “You sound like when I try to get Mom to let me eat dessert first.”

“It’s not empty flattery. I mean every word. Your parents are incredibly lucky to have you.” He squeezed her hand. “The galaxy is so dark these days. Don’t lose your light, Leia. We all need it.”

She nodded, face solemn now.

A thought struck him. “However, it’s not all up to you. It’s never all up to you. I don’t want you to feel burdened by responsibility that isn’t yours. People make their own choices, you know, and if they choose right, they can help make the world a little bit brighter alongside you. If you’ve done what you can to help them—within reason—and they still choose wrong…” He sighed. “It’s difficult, trying to let go.”

Her voice was knowing. “You keep thinking over and over about what you did wrong?”

He blinked. “Y-yes.”

“And you worry about what you should have done better?”

“…Yes.”

“I think… If you care that much now, you probably cared that much back then. And maybe you know more things now that you wish you knew before. But the past you didn’t know that, or else trying your best would’ve looked different, right?” She said it all casually, as if she didn’t just upend his worldview.

He stared back at her. “You… How can you see so clearly?”

“Maybe you’re just not looking hard enough.” She shrugged.

“Maybe so,” he murmured.

Perhaps her observation wasn’t so strange. Even without factoring in the possibility that she could be Force-sensitive, it was understandable that she was this wise; her biological mother had been elected queen of Naboo at thirteen years of age. Still, he had some difficulty rationalizing how she had cut through everything he was saying and uncovered the whole truth of the matter in seconds.

“I have much to learn from you, little one.”

That got him a side-eye. “Okay, but I’m not little. I’m ten years old.”

“Yes, of course. My apologies.”

Ten years. If someone had told him ten years ago what this child had just said, would he have accepted it? Would it have given him peace, or at least some semblance of respite? Or would he have bitterly laughed it off as just another false hope?

To think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as much to blame as he had believed—! It was almost too good to be true. Yes, of course, Anakin had made his own choices, to the extent that he could under Palpatine’s influence, but that was the thing, wasn’t it—being his Master, Obi-Wan had much influence on Anakin as well, despite Anakin’s stubborn insistence of the contrary. How much of Obi-Wan’s choices had affected Anakin’s? How much blame did Obi-Wan really deserve for Anakin’s fall?

But no, he wasn’t going to let himself fall into despair again. He had fought too hard too many times to keep himself from slipping into his own kind of darkness. He would keep looking forward. If not at least for himself, for little Leia here. For Luke on Tatooine. For Padmé, may the Force rest her soul.

And…

For Anakin too.

Even though it had been at least ten long years since he turned to the Dark Side, even though every day he chose to continue on his path, there had to be a chance that he wasn’t truly gone. There had to be a chance that Anakin Skywalker still lived somewhere hidden beneath the mask of Darth Vader.

There had to be.

Padmé had believed that. And Obi-Wan chose to do the same.

He exhaled, and something like relief filled his lungs. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“For what?” Leia let out a laugh. “Pointing out the obvious?”

“For giving me hope.”

She beamed, and it was like her expression lit up the dark cargo hold.

The future was bright, and she was smiling at him.

Notes:

Leia is Obi-Wan's hope and the future of the galaxy guys (along with Luke obvs) 😭😭

Thanks for reading! And to everyone commenting and leaving kudos, thank you especially for giving me motivation to write <3
Up next, the third installment of this series, where Obi-Wan and Anakin finally interact!

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