The Thirteenth Sister: A Kenobi x Female Inquisitor (Female Reader) Smut Fic
Author’s Note: This fic takes place shortly before the events of the Obi-Wan Kenobi series, with Obi-Wan being mentally vulnerable and physically out of practice. Trigger Warning: Explicit sex scenes. There’s no forced sex but the female inquisitor is emotionally manipulative and physically aggressive in seduction against an emotionally-vulnerable Kenobi so please don’t read if this content is distressing.
The Thirteenth Sister. That is your designation amidst your brotherhood. What an unlucky number to be granted. Amongst the Empire, even amongst the Inquisitors, you have a reputation for savoring the battle to a disturbing degree. Nevertheless, you’ve had an impressive career hunting survivors of the Jedi Order. At last, such prestige has earned you an audience with Lord Vader himself.
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At the moment, you are standing proudly with your hands behind your back in the waiting room, surrounded by your brethren. The Third Sister eyes you with hostility, equally reflected in the bite of her words.
She says, “Bantive III, huh? Looks like Lord Vader wants you as far away from the Empire as possible.”
You answer, “Now now, Third. No need to be jealous. We both know you’d be overjoyed if it were you, since you think Kenobi is in that sector of space.”
“Don’t get cocky, sister. If he’s really there, all you will have accomplished is alerting us to his location when you turn up dead.”
“Oh, but what a death it would be!”
Your yellow eyes dilate, and you continue, “One of the strongest of the Jedi Order, a master of Soresu without equal. My blade is trembling at the thought.”
Your eyes flicker before your entire body turns deathly rigid, and a subtle smile grows on your face amidst overwhelming fear. The metallic doors scream as their magnetics send them flying open, revealing the intimidating figure of your master: Darth Vader. Artificial breaths of carbon dioxide are expelled from his black helmet as he marches forward, flanked by crimson imperial guards and obsidian purge troopers. Your body goes chill even as your heart races madly. Darth Vader… Your body grows warm, drawn to the allure of his presence and broad-shouldered demeanor.
Vader approaches you directly, his voice deep and commanding.
“Inquisitor, you have yet to fail me. Should this rumor prove true, you would do well not to let this survivor slip through your fingers. Return to me with the head of a Jedi and I will be truly impressed.”
Kneeling down at his boots, your eyes fall to the cold steel tiles of the room, polished so clearly you can see the reflection of Vader dwarfing you. How elating…. Almost as much as the thought of facing Kenobi in battle.
You say, “I shall not fail you, my lord.”
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A small moon supporting life, orbiting a backwater planet. This is Bantive III. The crops and livestock here feed the wealthy elite of Scarif, the jewel of the Empire. Small as it may be, a moon is no easy domain to cover with its thousands of residents. You’ve spent several days here with your two purge troopers, hunting for the elusive Jedi rumored to stalk this place. Threatening and torturing civilians has never been your preference, so you have been offering bribes and tearing information from unwilling minds. The Force is leading you far from civilization until you reach the remote farmlands. At last, there is a moment you sense it, a fleeting flicker of a force user. Your golden eyes widen in excitement.
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Obi-Wan Kenobi is far from the man he used to be. His once well-groomed hair has grown long and is marred by dust from toiling in the field. It’s been several days since last he bothered to trim his beard. His face is worn and haggard, and he is thin from missing meals. His eyes are bagged from avoiding his nightly afflictions. Old memories of a man he failed. Of a friend he loved. In his exile, he’s come to keep his head low, barely speaking a word to the locals. Avoiding gazes. Even the farmers he interacts with would say they barely know him, and that is how Kenobi prefers it to stay. He chose this empty world to hide, to stay away from the boy, to protect him from Inquisitors like you.
At the moment, Obi-Wan is quietly returning with a bag of vegetables to unload in his small shed. He halts at the front of his rundown shack, his blood freezing. For a mere moment, he senses an intent to kill, a dark energy pooling up ahead. He is surprised he sensed it at all for the Force abandoned him long ago, or perhaps he abandoned it. Either way, he knows what awaits him. With a hitched breath, Kenobi kneels down on the dusty terrain to dig at it. He pulls out a small metal locker. Silently prying it open, his blue eyes fall onto the sight of two silver blades laying peacefully in their state of abandonment. As he grasps hold of his old lightsaber, he notes that it feels heavy, far heavier than it used to be. Once it had been as light as a feather and so had he. Now old memories weigh him down to the earth.
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As you lay in wait for him, concealed in the darkness behind a wall, you feel anger surge through you. You can hear his steps retreating into the darkness. It seems this Jedi is a coward. You grit your teeth and signal your troopers.
“It’s no fun if they run. Take him down.”
You dash forward now, using the force to swing open the front door as you spring forth like a Massif on its prey. Your troopers are firing at him, blaster bolts barely missing his skull. You outrun them both and tear out your blade from the small holster on your back. A crimson red beam lights up the black veil of the night, illuminating your prey. He turns to face you for a moment, his face revealing… fear. You know his face. Everyone in the galaxy knows the hero of the Clone Wars: Obi-Wan Kenobi. His countenance shows him to be a shell of a man, but there is no denying he’s quite handsome even in his older years. What a shame you must cut him up. But can you? If he truly is Obi-Wan, is this contest not already decided?
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Obi-Wan sees the huntress clearly now, a woman in an ebony leather uniform, a long red cape trailing behind her. His eyes run over her long messy hair hanging like a veil down her cold features, and a black mask covering her lower face. Her eyes are sharp and feral, fitting for one with golden irises reflecting her fallen nature. Without a doubt, he is looking upon an Inquisitor. And she’s bolting right for him.
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You slash wildly at his face, your movements faster than the untrained eye can follow. Your swing he barely avoids by rolling to the side, feeling the heat of it raze his back. He dashes past you now, making for the purge troopers accompanying you. Right then, your keen eyes catch a glimpse of a grenade falling between his feet, something to momentarily distract you. You grin as the explosion nearly engulfs you, but you extend your gloved hands to hold it back until it dissipates. Time to rescue your underlings. However, once the flames have been subdued, you find Obi-Wan has already slain one trooper, and now wields his rifle. The other bashes his blaster into Kenobi’s back. He groans in pain as his leg elegantly sweeps the man off his feet, his blaster firing enough rounds to punch a hole through his fallen opponent’s chest plate.
“I liked those two,” you say.
Obi-Wan now turns to face you, eyes sore afraid. He’s undoubtedly skilled but these tactics do not suit a Jedi. Has he forgotten his training? You might have believed he was simply underestimating you by not igniting his lightsaber, if not for the unmitigated fear you sense from him. You smirk arrogantly and then grab your cape before bowing low, arms spread wide in a theatrical display.
“Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. It’s an honor to do battle with you. I am the Thirteenth Sister of the Inquisitorius.”
“I didn’t expect an Inquisitor to find me… not so soon. I… thought I had more time”
His voice is soft, soothing, and sad.
“This is where you die, Kenobi. Or will this place be my grave? Give me a glorious battle, won’t you?”
“You are mistaken to seek sport with me. I’m not the Jedi I used to be.”
You shake your head and say, “I merely need to draw it out. Your muscle memory will follow.”
“I…. I’m afraid I’ve lost my connection to the Force.”
“Oh… What a shame. But to surrender now is to simply die at my master’s hand, amidst unspeakable torture. It’s better you fight. It’s what we were born into the world doing. And it’s how we should leave it.”
Your eyes widen and you smile. Seeing one of the greatest Jedi Masters in history pleading to you for mercy and so handsome a man too… You feel a rush that is both sadistic and sexual. Without hesitation, you slash again at him, the electronic humming of your blade breaking the silence between you both. Kenobi barely evades you once again as your lightsaber seers through his cloak.
“Draw your blade, Kenobi.”
When next you swing, the Jedi steps towards you, slamming a palm against the metallic ring on your hilt to hold you off. What a feeble attempt. Your boot swings low, sweeping him off his feet. Immediately, Obi-Wan springs back onto both feet and ducks as your red blade nearly beheads him. At this rate, he’ll die without putting up a fight. Time to resort to a far more underhanded method.
You step back and put a mocking finger under your chin.
“Hmmm. There was a rather friendly farmer that pointed me in your direction. Gorun was it? He had a husband, didn’t he? And two kids, the oldest barely a few years old. They seemed nice…”
The horror in his eyes distracts him and you smash your lightsaber into his gut, sending him buckling as the air is knocked out of him. His boot suddenly connects to your chin in a kick that sends you careening backwards. You wheel yourself with the momentum, the Force bolstering you, and land on your feet in an elegant backflip. There is a gentle thud as your metallic mask lands in the grass by the Jedi’s boots. You see his eyes flicker over your exposed features.
You continue, “Once you are in cuffs, I think I’ll pay them a visit. One by one, I’ll flay them alive while I make you watch. And don’t worry, I’ll leave the children for last.”
Kenobi’s eyes widen in fear and his lips are trembling, teeth snapping up and then closed again. It’s so obvious he’s struggling to answer. No longer has he control of his emotions, but what is pouring out from his heart isn’t anger, only feelings of helplessness and desperation.
“Master Kenobi, you’re scared. Weak.”
Your lightsaber screams as he scurries backwards to dodge it, crashing against the flat of his shack’s wall. And as you send down a cutting blow upon his head, a beautiful blue fire rises to meet you. Sparks pour out as your crimson blade crashes against his ancient lightsaber. While you can’t see your own expression, you do not doubt your eyes must be wide with elation. How will you break through this man’s defensive style? You slash madly, searing through the wall of the shack as it crashes down, ruining his humble livelihood. Uprooting his little world.
You say, “I’ll cut this town to the ground as punishment for harboring a Jedi.”
“They didn’t know!” he roars.
“It doesn’t matter. The Empire does not discriminate in punishment between the ignorant and our enemies.”
He swings at you, but his strikes have no strength in them. Each time you slash, he barely manages to block it. You send a beautiful flourish that cuts open his boot as he races backwards. You grin as you flicker a finger and yank on his foot through the Force. Kenobi is sent flat on his back. Instantly, you are straddling him, pinning him to the ground. Your ass is squeezing down on his crotch as you leer over him, his own plasma blade pressed dangerously close to his throat as your saber weighs down on it.
You say, “You can’t save them like this. Let go of your fear. Strike me down, Jedi! Protect the innocent from my villainy. Give in to the warrior you were.”
You giggle as you hop off him, chivalrously letting him return to his feet.
You continue to toy with him, but his sluggish movements are growing quicker with every attack. He’s starting to use his footing properly and his blade is now engaging in parries, each forcing you to dodge. Your lightsabers are caught in a bind as sparks rain onto your feet, and you leer forward and grin at him. Kenobi’s strength grows by the minute, obvious in how he tears free his blade and swings for your ribs. You twist your wrists hard to block it, a smile still plastered on your face. Your heart is racing for him. His strikes are becoming harder to follow but you skillfully match each blow. If you duel just a little longer, you might see him in his prime, just before he cuts you down.
“How many of your brothers,” you ask as you continue to send vicious strikes upon him, “Have I killed? There was that Twi’lek padawan, her name was Vescura. She was scared. Strange for a Jedi, no? And a human padawan named Bulrik. He begged. And a Jedi Knight named Ketra. She fought well, but in the end, I split her up the spine. Her head… we keep as a trophy.”
Even after hearing such horrors, you never see the moment of rage you so desire. It’s clear Obi-Wan is too pure to fall to the dark side, so better to draw him into the light in a righteous bout of duty to the fallen.
“You could have saved them. Where was Obi-Wan Kenobi when the frightened padawans were being hunted down like vermin? Here. Hiding in your cowardice.”
Kenobi’s pained eyes are holding back tears and the blade you had expected to dice you into pieces has grown lifeless. Oh no. You’ve broken him. His lightsaber falls to the ground as it deactivates, and he soon follows, crashing down onto his knees.
“Please… kill me. Spare the others. Let me… let me do one thing right. Just one.”
“Kill you? And why would I want to kill you? Now that you’ve gone and surrendered? Scared Lord Vader will look through your memories and find the others?”’
Your insight frightens him, obvious by his tortured gaze.
You should be disappointed, but the way his voice breaks is making your heart race. He’s so broken. So fragile. You could reach out and he would shatter. You find yourself wanting to devour him, to corrupt him. To comfort him. You lick your lips as your body starts to warm up. If he is surrendering, then perhaps he will let you devour him.
You watch as the mighty Obi-Wan gazes up at you helplessly, defeated by his own weakness. So broken. So ready to die. It would be a lie to say it doesn’t turn you on. Cruel as it may be, you adore having a good-looking man on his knees. Your leather-clad fingers cup his chin, feeling the bristle of it. His jaw is rather sharp, and those blue eyes… so beautiful and warm. You lean down now until your lips are dangerously close to his own, until your golden eyes are peering directly into his sapphire irises. Without warning, your lips wrap around his own. He moans in surprise and pulls back. You grin and straddle him again, laying kisses on his neck, feeling his course dirty skin as your hand wraps around his waist. His muscles are limp. Kenobi isn’t even denying you.
“Relax… I won’t force you. Afterall, it’s more fun if you beg for it.”
His shaky voice asks, “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
“You’ve been alone for a long time. Your body is aching for it, you know. You didn’t notice? How your eyes ran up and down me throughout our duel?”
“Lady, I don’t know what you mean. You should get off.”
Sinfully, you blow hot breath into his ear. He shudders a bit. You send more kisses along his neck as your eyes catch the swelling in his pants. The sight is utterly tantalizing, and you find yourself already imagining taking it into your mouth.
“If that’s what you wish… But you seem to be enjoying yourself. Isn’t it more fun if I claim you this way… and return to the Empire empty-handed?”
“W-What? But… Vader won’t let you…”
“You can always flee off-world. Darth Vader will let me live if it was a Jedi Master that eluded me.”
“Why are you doing this?”
You stroke his chin, as he gazes up at you, utterly at your mercy.
Your eyes look over his abode, having collapsed in on itself during your battle. You stretch out your hand, calling upon the force, and it crudely re-aligns itself, at least enough for the door to be visible again. You grab Kenobi by the hand, dragging him inside his meager abode. Violently, you kick a broken chair out of the way. In the corner is his mattress, no worse for wear. You throw him onto the bed, leaving him to gaze up at you in bewilderment.
“Don’t worry. I’m won’t hurt you. And I was kidding about the ‘slaying the town’ thing. It isn’t my way.”
You straddle him, pinning his wrists to the bed, leaning into his ear, and whisper, “Good boy. Just surrender to your lust. Having sex doesn’t mean you are falling to the Darkside, you know. And… I apologize about earlier. About mocking you.”
His eyebrows rise in confusion, not understanding why an Inquisitor is apologizing to him.
“It’s in bad taste to mock a warrior no longer in his prime, even if just to bait him. More importantly… What are we going to do about this?”
Your finger points to his crotch, hovering dangerously close to it, enough to let your fingertip’s heat brush over the tempting bulge.
“Oh? I’m not pretty enough for you?”
“No, that isn’t it. I… I’m just not fond of you killing me in my sleep.”
“Why would I ever want to kill you?”
You grab his chin again, this time more violently, sadistic eyes glaring down as he sees the madness in your gaze, feels the Darkside pouring out of you like a fountain. Kenobi gulps as he feels temptation, wondering if it’s the darkness or his own biological urges calling to him. You release him again and lay beside him, hand stroking the dusty fabric covering his broad chest while your curvy leg wraps over his hip.
“You’re alone, Kenobi. You’ve been alone forever now. Sleeping alone on a cold hard bed. No friends. No loved ones. No family. No Jedi. No Force. Poor thing.”
Your tone is only half-mocking. You wrap your arms around his back now and pull him up to your breasts. You see his eyes trembling, so ready to fall asleep in your arms, years of stress and exhaustion catching up to him.
“Why not? The Jedi code? You no longer follow it. You are free… So for a moment… why don’t we end our mutual loneliness? Forget the pain… Forget the memories… Just feel my heartbeat.”
Kenobi’s muscles, at last, give in, and he sinks into your arms. You lay him back down and begin kissing him more aggressively. This time he reciprocates, even as self-loathing pours over his spirits. Your lips press against his dusty hair, so long and disheveled. His body’s heat, his muscular frame, it feels lovely against you. You let your hands slide up and down his back before you tear the rags off of him. His chest isn’t as chiseled as it had been in his prime, but it remains nicely toned, although the skinniness is mostly from a lack of eating. You lay kisses down his chest as he lets his fingers run through your hair. With ease, you slide off his pants, and out springs his boiling-hot cock before your lips. You hear him shudder, eyes unable to meet yours. How ashamed he is of his own weakness…
Your tongue flickers over your lips like a snake as you hunger for it. You are an Inquisitor, aren’t you? It’s time you take what is yours. You offer it a gentle, teasing kiss that makes him stifle a curse. Mercilessly, you begin your assault. Your mouth wraps around the bulbous head as you begin tasting it. Your gloves seize his bare hips as he buckles from the pleasure. It’s so obvious he’s not only sensitive but has little experience in this. It’s probably been decades since last he received this sort of treatment. Your tongue slides up a throbbing vein now as your finger plays with his testicles. Hungrily, you take him down your mouth, your head gliding up and down fervently. You can feel your body heating up the longer you taste his hard, rigid flesh. You needed this too. When was the last time the Empire gave you leave time, a chance to bed a gorgeous man like Kenobi?
With a satisfied popping noise, your lips slip off his shaft and snap together contentedly before you toss off your gear. Boots, gloves, shredded cape, belt, and even your lightsaber you carelessly cast to the floor. The second your uniform is lying crumpled at the edge of the bed, you have your breasts in his mouth. Obi-Wan is sucking on them in the trance that has overtaken him. Less a passion than a somber need, every action of his is layered in grief from his past, melding with a pang of guilt for what he is doing now…. Bedding the enemy. Fucking the woman that butchered his comrades… And will likely do so again.
You lean your weight into the Jedi, sandwiching him between the bed and your bosom, smothering him until Obi-Wan is fully transfixed with your body. His beard tickles at your soft flesh and his hot puffs of air stick to your chest. You seize his calloused fingers and force them onto your ass. You feel pleasure ring over your lower half as his fingertips dig in, as he greedily seizes each cheek and spreads it. His shaft pokes at you down below and you can deny its advances no longer. Kenobi watches as you sit yourself upon your knees and your fingers coil around his dick, easing down and letting yourself be spread apart by his desire. Its stiffness and girth bring a welcome sensation. Your hands latch onto his sides as you lower yourself down upon him, his erection utterly filling you to the brim. Obi-Wan lets out a trembling groan. Pleasure is running through you both. Time to get to work claiming him.
You begin shaking your hips, never once hesitating to impale yourself upon him time and time again. Soon the bed is rattling, ready to collapse. Soon you have Obi-Wan’s neck against the wall as he sits up and wraps powerful forearms around the small of your back while you ride him. He’s lost himself to the pleasure, leaving him desperate for you to remain, to feel your body’s heat against his naked form. It’s been years since he’s felt even the briefest touch of another, even a simple hug. A part of you pities him. You bounce up and down vigorously now. To your surprise, the Jedi suddenly strikes your ass, sending a sting up your spine. Your moan tells him everything.
How cute. He’s apologizing to an Imperial assassin. While you suspect he’s no virgin, he sure is acting like one. All the while, Kenobi’s erection spears you deeply, your hips having yet to fail you. You lean down and lay a kiss on his warm neck, then his hard shoulder, the hard muscle of it curving outward. Your lips suck on it hungrily as you let your finger slide through his thick mane of hair. Damn… He’s rather addicting. You wouldn’t mind spending a few more days draining him. It’s then your ambitions are forgotten as his hips buckle and Kenobi sends his pelvis crashing upward as he fills you with his seed. You feel your cheeks heat up as he tries to impregnate you. You, the woman, that not fifteen minutes ago was trying to murder him. You slide a sinful finger down below, playing with your nub to drive yourself to the brink. Obi-Wan desperately sucks on a nipple now, and the three-pronged pleasure is enough to send you over the edge. A moan escapes you just short of a scream, and Kenobi kisses you passionately, not seeming to care where your lips had been earlier. As your mouths finally part, one might even mistake you both for lovers.
You say, “The proud Obi-Wan Kenobi… About to impregnate an Inquisitor.”
You watch as he lays there panting helplessly, eyes unable to meet your own. Sadistically, you decide to tease him, to play with your food a bit further. As you slide off his waning form, you whisper into his ear cruelly.
“Going to knock me up? Were you planning to raise the baby together or shall I raise it alone in the Empire?”
The panic and guilt in his features are obvious, and he says, “I… I’m such a pathetic…”
It’s then you realize you’ve gone too far. No, there shouldn’t be any limits, but your awareness of your own cruelty seems to at last catch up to you. He looks miserable, miserable because you chose to hurt him in his moment of vulnerability.
“Hey, I was kidding. I use birth control. This is just peaceful negotiations, right? Isn’t that the Jedi way?” you ask with a laugh.
You caress his cheek now, thumb dragging down it. You lay down again beside him and stroke at his pecs and flat stomach lovingly. A series of kisses you plant onto his cheek, not stopping until it has left him distracted. You feel his fingers reflexively stroking your hip. Your arm wraps over him now as you cuddle, leaving him confused. It occurs to you it is rather late, and you aren’t expected to report back for quite some time. You slide his patchwork blanket over your naked bodies and rest your head on his hard chest.
You whisper, “I’ve got you. Tonight, you are safe.”
Pressed up against him, you feel his heartbeat decreasing into a steady pace until he realizes he’s no longer in danger. That he’s protected in your arms. You slide your leather gloves off now, wanting to let your skin breathe. It’s then that Kenobi witnesses something that leaves him startled. Your right hand is missing and in its place is a black synthetic set of digits. Perfect cybernetics. The sight of it reminds him of a man he knew and loved. He sees him clearly; a cocky grin on his handsome features, long hair trailing down his face. Black metallic fingers clenching as he does maintenance on them. R2-D2 whistling beside his chair, awaiting his own tune-up soon to follow.
Anakin asks with an arched eyebrow, “What is it, Master?”
Obi-Wan gulps now. Yet then he remembers you are there beside him, and he realizes the wound on your wrist is your own. There’s no mistaking the sympathy in his countenance.
You say, “When we are initiated, we are expected to sacrifice something. Lord Vader took off my hand as payment…”
“I… I’m so sorry,” he says, his elegant deep voice resonating clearly into your ear.
“Don’t be. That’s just how our creed is. It’s ancient memories.”
“You say so… But it must have been less than ten years ago it happened to you. Were… Were you a padawan?”
“Yes… We were off-world on Kamino when the troops turned on us. My master and I were dragged before the Grand Inquisitor. He made us fight to the death to survive. I planned to let my master kill me, but to my surprise, she showed her true colors and attacked without mercy. And so, I killed her for revenge. And I… enjoyed it. I… I think I did? The memories are muddled. After that, I was taken to Mustafar and tortured for weeks until at last, I embraced the pain and the madness…”
You see Obi-Wan’s eyebrows crease, mixed with anger at what was done to you and yet pouring out endless fountains of worry. Yet your face betrays no sadness. How can it? It feels like memories of a past life.
“So that is what an Inquisitor is? I wish I could… heal you.”
“Don’t be… There’s nothing left to heal.”
“That’s not true, Darling.”
“Perhaps not. But I’m too tired to think on it.”
You place a hand over your mouth as you yawn.
“I think I’ll get some sleep.”
You lay a kiss on his lips and then return to resting your head on his shoulder. In a few minutes’ time, darkness overtakes you…
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Kenobi gazes down at the Inquisitor in his arms, at this assassin strangely at his mercy. She’s a curious woman. So carelessly, she has left herself exposed to a Jedi Knight. Perhaps she is confident that a Jedi would never strangle her in her sleep, yet they are both well aware that Jedi are capable of terrible deeds. Her breathing is peaceful, and her vicious expressions of battle have vanished, leaving a serene face breathing softly. His fingers unintentionally brush back a loose strand of the Inquisitor’s hair as he soaks in her beauty. It unearths a memory of discomfort, of another he loved. Of a clever sad woman.
He whispers, “Oh Satine… If only I could have held…”
But he won’t finish that sorrowful confession, his hollow lamentations. Obi-Wan leaves them caught on the tip of his tongue, held prisoner within his mind to rejoin his endless black memories. And yet, after giving in to this woman’s passions and temptations, Kenobi finds himself feeling oddly light. That night, he sleeps softly for the first time in ages.
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When you awake, you are greeted by a gentle sunrise pouring in through the shattered window. You keep the blanket huddled over your naked body as you take in the sight of a shirtless Kenobi packing his things. He’s left a glass of juice by your bedside which you waste no time in sipping. Seeing you stir, the Jedi gazes over at you stiffly, seeming afraid to meet your gaze, perhaps due to shame or sheer embarrassment of having a naked woman in his bed. Even so, you expected him to be colder given the horrors and cruelty you inflicted on him.
“Good morning, Obi-Wan,” you say softly, already fully awake.
Kenobi nods and speaks, “I will be leaving shortly, taking my vessel and departing elsewhere.”
You say, “It’s for the best. I need to retrieve my men’s bodies and report to the Empire. I can give you a few days’ head start… as a gift for last night. But no more.”
He nods gravely and says, “Thank you. I… It would best… if you didn’t return to him. He may punish you.”
You grin and remark, “You’re soft. Too soft for this hard galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Your enemies will hurt you if you show such mercy, such compassion.”
He continues, “Of course, it hasn’t escaped my attention that I’m being lectured by an Inquisitor that has chosen to let me live.”
“Mercy is the province of the strong.”
He laughs and says, “Rather arrogant, aren’t you?”
Obi-Wan shows a moment of hesitation, as words fail him. You wait patiently until he asks, “Before I leave, might I know your name?”
You smirk and whisper it to him. He smiles warmly and nods before his thoughts turn to the journey ahead. To returning to Tatooine. Being found by an Inquisitor has uprooted him and reminded him of what he must protect. The Jedi Knight waltzes forward now towards the door of his shack. His hands catch hold of the rim of the doorway, before he spins around to face you, long locks of hair fluttering about.
He declares, “One day… I’ll save you.”
Your golden eyes widen in shock. There’s a feeling of heat rushing over your face all the way to your ears, and you have no doubt he’s noticed you are blushing. No man has ever sought to rescue you before. His gaze softens and he vanishes from your sight. Smirking to yourself, you slump back against the wall.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi… I’d like to see him again.”
