negotiaetor — obi - wan kenobi ,
well it’s too late for that now, isn’t it? old wounds have been opened, by his simple presence. obi-wan might be keen and thrilled that mace is alive but it is also a reminder of the years past, of everything they’d had a lost. and now to speak of anakin, of the smallest chance that he might be alive – “please, mace. if you know something about anakin,” he begins, trying to hold back the tremor in his voice, the way his knuckles turn white. perhaps he’d already known there was a chance. perhaps he’d always feared. and here was mace, not to assuage his fears, but to give them weight. what would be worst? to have killed anakin, or to have left him there to die only to find out he had survived?
and what of that man could have survived? what would he be now? he can tell mace is being cautious, but as he takes a shuddering breath, he pushes his glass away. anxiety rises with in him, something he’s spent many long years pushing down, clinging to the calm of the jedi teachings for support. those supports now threaten to give way. "there was hardly anything left of him. i cannot imagine how he might have made it off that planet alive.“
it is a terrible thing to watch obi - wan begin to fold before his eyes. it almost certainly would have been kinder not to come at all , to let obi - wan continue in ignorance. there is little room for kindness under the regime of the empire. mace’s fingers twitch toward him , seeking to put a reassuring hand on his arm , and then he thinks better of it.
“ you have heard of the emperor’s right hand , ” he says slowly. “ darth vader. there is talk that he is a monster beneath the suit , but there is also talk that he is merely human. a force - user. talk that the suit conceals terrible wounds. ”
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