the thing about mace windu and count dooku is that it's simply so instantly believable that they were friends once. from what little we get of them, their characterization creates a dynamic that would so clearly mesh well. they are serious men with strict principles. they find a certain amount of pride and joy in their martial skills. they have ambition. they each have a dry sense of humor. yoda loves them. when they call each other "old friend" nothing has ever been more plausible to me.
P.S. because I always feel like I'm deceiving people when it gets mistaken. This is a vitrail painting, not an actual stained glass window. I am the dollar store version of stained glass 😎
I really love that Andor is giving us stories of Imperials like Niya who, although they have enjoyed their time working for the Empire, they know that it is wrong and choose to help the rebellion at the cost of their lives. They have so much more to lose than gain, and yet choose to do it anyway. It's one thing for people like Mon Mothma to be working behind the scenes, she has incredible wealth and political power. She has the resources to save herself and her family, or at least have a better chance at survival. But for a lower-class employee, it means so much more. It is a much greater sacrifice.
It's my birthday, so I thought I'd post this. Happy Saint Patrick's Day everyone!
Summary: Y/N and Obi-Wan struggle with their Jedi duties keeping them apart.
Warnings: moments of great anxiety
Word count: 7.2k
Rescue Me masterlist | Main masterlist
The Kaminoans had developed what they called campfire rooms to mimic camps in battle at night. The optimal low lighting encouraged camaraderie as well as training the clones to sleep in rough environments. Apparently they figured that us Jedi were used to the same treatment.
Just as well. I didn’t want to be separated from the clones anyhow.
“Yeah, kid, any time you want to,” Skywalker was saying on my left, his face illuminated by the softly glowing light.
Ghon grinned, the familiarity of it making me smile too. “You really mean that?”
“Anakin has a lot he could teach you,” Obi-Wan said. He’d been strangely fidgety all evening.
“More than Y/N can.” Ghon leaned closer to Obi-Wan. “You should’ve taught her to fight better.”
“Excuse me?” I said as the three boys laughed. “If that’s how it is, I’ll just leave you three gasheads to your injuries then the next time you get stupid and hurt yourselves.”
“No, you won’t,” Ghon replied.
“No, she won’t,” Obi-Wan agreed, and the three men laughed again.
“If it weren’t for the Healer’s Code,” I grumbled.
A clone approached our group with a bag. “Rations.” He distributed the awful pink cubes and then went off to the next group. Ghon and Skywalker ate theirs without complaint or hesitation. I knew neither of them had always had access to food, which was probably why they’d take anything over an empty stomach.
Obi-Wan, however, grimaced down at the cubes in his palm, making no move to put them in his mouth.
Ghon nudged my side, and when I looked at him, gave a pointed look to my own cubes. I suspected Obi-Wan had told him at some point to make sure I was eating enough after my time in Dooku’s dungeon on Neftali; I’d never known a teenage boy to be so militant about someone else’s eating habits before.
Touched by his concern, I placed one in my mouth and chewed it once. Twice. Ugh, I wanted to barf. Thrice. Four times. It felt like dung on my tongue. Five times. Six times.
Deciding to risk the danger of choking over the danger of throwing up, I swallowed it and stared at the other three cubes in my hands. When I first joined the Jedi Order, I’d missed the food of my home planet, which was often spicy and savory. Jedi ate plain foods with very little flavor and no seasonings were offered at the Temple. It felt like eating paper.
Now I wished for the blandness of peacetime.
I was just about to ask when the Council was expected to get in touch with us when a voice from the group of clones sitting behind me caught my attention.
“How do they do it?” the higher voice of a clone youngling asked.
“I’m with him,” said an older version of the same voice. “I’ve never seen two Jedi work together so well as the two of them.”
I glanced around at my group, but Obi-Wan was chiming in on a conversation between Skywalker and Ghon about fighting stances. I supposed it didn’t matter; Obi-Wan and Skywalker were quite used to receiving praise for their teamwork.
“They’re good Jedi, some of the best,” Captain Rex replied. I could barely distinguish his voice from the other clones and only because of the quiet confidence with which he’d always spoken. I wondered if he’d grown out of a tube speaking with authority.
“I’ve heard stories,” said the young voice, so quietly that I unintentionally leaned back to hear better. “That the Jedi are brave and strong, but I’ve never seen it.”
“When you get off this planet,” said another clone whose identity I couldn’t discern from the voice, “you’ll probably see it every day.”
“Especially if you serve alongside Generals Kenobi, Skywalker, and Y/L/N.”
Me?
I sat there, stunned. To be included with Obi-Wan and Skywalker…
“General Y/L/N saved me once,” said that same voice of Jango Fett, and I only just refrained from whipping my head around to see which clone it was. Instead, I stayed, waiting for the clone to continue. “It was on Umbara.”
Murmurs went through the group, and something deep within me shuddered. My old master’s final stand.
“Krell?” Rex asked.
“Yeah,” said the voice heavily. “After he ordered the full strike on the airbase.”
In the following moment of silence, I could feel their pain over the losses caused by Krell as distinctly as I felt my own.
I shut my eyes, remembering how Krell had spoken over Rex, completely ignoring his concerns. Guilt swirled in my gut. I’d wanted to say something to my master to change his mind, but I’d been so afraid, I stayed silent as Krell sent the clones into the ravine. Those lives were on me for my negligence as much as on Krell for his cruelty.
“She saved my life on Umbara too,” Rex said, pulling me from my thoughts.
“And me,” said another clone.
“How?” asked the young voice.
“She dragged me out of the ravine when my leg was broken.”
“I was exposed, and she defended me long enough for both of us to take cover.”
The young voice made an impressed sound. “What about you, Captain Rex?”
I heard the dull thunk of clone trooper armor and pictured Rex setting down his helmet. Or had he simply shifted his foot against the ground? “When I rallied the 212th and 501st against Krell, he ran off to the forest. We went after him, and he suddenly came down from the trees.” The long breath Rex let out seemed to rattle in my own chest. “He wasn’t even using his sabers, just…started throwing us around with his bare hands.”
“That’s when he broke a clone’s back, right?”
My own back flared sympathetically as I remembered the great crack the clone’s spine had made.
“Yeah,” said Rex. “Never seen a Besalisk with that much strength. That was when General Y/L/N drew her saber.”
I shook my head in spite of myself. I’d barely exchanged five blows with Krell before he overpowered me.
“If she hadn’t occupied him, Tup never would’ve been able to stun Krell, and I think he would’ve killed all the clones on Umbara that day.”
“He would’ve killed the entire planet.”
Just the planet? Having seen my old master near his end, he had enough hatred to poison an entire system’s worth of planets.
The young clone’s voice broke through my gloom. “I’m glad he’s dead.” Murmurs of agreement went through the group, and I gave a short nod. “And I hope his ghost is stuck in a tree.”
The clones all laughed, but the idea of any piece of Krell living on made me feel nauseous. It was bad enough that some of his practices were still ingrained in my mind. I wanted all traces of him gone from the galaxy for good.
“How’s this?” Ghon’s voice broke through my listening and I looked to see his stance.
“Keep your grip looser,” Skywalker advised. “Getting too stiff’s not gonna help.”
“But hold on tight,” Obi-Wan said with a meaningful glance at Skywalker. “Don’t want to end up facing a changeling assassin with no saber. Or angry Geonosians. Or a sith.”
“Alright, alright, we get it,” Skywalker said as Ghon adjusted.
I frowned. Losing one’s saber was a rookie move and one that still stung from the day’s earlier conflict. What was worse: the fact that I’d lost my saber or that Ghon risked himself to return it to me?
You need to eat.
I glanced over at Obi-Wan. His expression was neutrally aimed at the fire, but I would’ve bet money as a Jedi I didn't have that he was worrying.
It’s been months since Dooku had me, I’m not wasting away.
He did not meet my gaze. People subjected to starvation become more vulnerable to future food shortages.
I looked down at the cubes in my hand, a sudden lump in my throat. Did you research that?
Obi-Wan did not answer, which was answer enough. I scrunched my nose, desperately trying not to allow tears to well in my eyes. How about for every cube you eat, I’ll eat?
Deal. Still not looking in my direction, Obi-Wan lifted one cube up, as if inspecting it. Do you want a countdown?
You’re already one behind.
His eyes snapped to the three cubes in my palm, then searched the ground around me. You didn’t just toss it where I couldn’t see it?
Don’t you trust me?
Not when it comes to ration cubes.
I only just held in my laugh. Instead, I recalled the memory of eating the cube moments ago, knowing that he could see it.
Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked to the cube between his fingers, the unmistakable expression of nausea on his face. Then, his hand moving painfully slow, he brought his first cube to his mouth, and his disgust surged so powerfully, I nearly gagged. Your nausea is making it harder for me.
Sorry.
I felt the sudden distance through the Force as he tried to keep his feelings to himself. It gave me enough space to bring my next cube to my mouth, and Obi-Wan mirrored me. Together we chewed with the solemnity of a murder trial, and as I tried to swallow, I wished I were the victim.
I grimaced. I think I’d rather be tortured.
His head jerked in my direction and at the last second, he kept his head moving as if glancing over his shoulder had been his goal the whole time. That’s not funny. Images of Dooku flashed through my mind, and I wasn’t quite sure if they were his or mine.
I’m right in front of you, I’m fine. Relax.
Obi-Wan slowly placed another cube on his tongue and chewed with the hostility that arose when he pictured Dooku’s face. I was his prisoner once, you know. He didn’t torture me, he just sentenced me to die. He treated me with more honor than he treated you.
I matched his third cube. He didn’t derive pleasure from it. He actually hated doing it, I could feel that. But his desire for power was greater than his hatred.
Apparently not with me.
With Obi-Wan’s distance from the Force to protect me from his nausea, I might not have felt his anger if it wasn’t laced within his words. Knowing you, he thought you were incorruptible.
Obi-Wan pursed his lips. I don't know why he would've thought that of me and not of you.
I was already fighting a grin as I said, it’s my darkness.
Obi-Wan let out a large sigh, audible from the other side of the circle, and I fought to keep a straight face.
“Something wrong, sir?” Captain Rex asked him as he joined our group. He looked calm and professional, as if he hadn’t just been telling stories about the greatest trooper terrorizer of the Clone Wars.
“I can’t eat anymore,” Obi-Wan said out loud, studying the final cube. “Something spoiled my appetite.”
“I’ll eat it,” Ghon piped up, already holding out his hand for the cube. Obi-Wan surrendered it with gladness.
“Don’t eat too many of those,” Captain Rex warned. “One of my men ate eight cubes on a dare and nearly sleep-walked off a cliff.”
“He’s a growing boy.” I ruffled his hair. “He probably has another growth spurt coming.”
-
I awoke from my sleep with a start and sat up, blinking away images of Dooku’s face offset from the darkness of the dungeon on Neftali. Trying to banish the images, I focused on the fake flickering of the camplight. The quiet sounds and movements of many sleeping bodies was like almost every other night I’d spent in this war. If I hadn’t known I was indoors, I would’ve assumed I was sleeping outside like on Rishii or Felucia.
Glancing over at my padawan, I noted the sprawl of his limbs and the soft snoring. Skywalker’s position wasn’t quite so haphazard, but he too looked dead to the world.
But Obi-Wan was nowhere to be seen.
Where are you? I asked with a yawn. There was no response. He wasn’t sleeping, I could feel that. Do you want to be alone?
Up on the balcony, came the answer.
You forget, I groused, I haven’t been on this planet as long as you.
A little glow of amusement came from somewhere above my head. Take the stairs up two flights and take a left.
Stepping delicately, I walked around Skywalker’s head and over Captain Rex’s feet to reach the edges of the room. Why are you awake? Obi-Wan didn’t answer, and I gave him time as I climbed the stairs. But then when I reached the top of the first flight, the silence started to eat at me. Is something wrong?
There was a slight whoosh through Obi-Wan’s Force signature, and I cocked my head. Did he just let out a sigh?
You’re incredibly distracting.
A slow smile spread on my face as I sped up, wanting to see his face. Am I? How so?
You can’t expect me to lay down five feet away from you and not touch you.
Somehow I don’t think that would escape Skywalker’s notice.
Somehow I don’t think Anakin would mind much.
Turning the corner, I caught sight of a clear door leading out onto a covered balcony. Obi-Wan leaned against the railing, already looking through the door at me. As soon as I pushed the door open, the sound of the rain pelting everything in sight filled my ears.
“What does that mean?” I asked. “About Skywalker?”
Obi-Wan shook his head lightly, already reaching out for me. “I’ll tell you some other time.”
Speaking words aloud was a luxury. Speaking with our minds was a testament to our connection, but the safety of using our voices was incredible.
I allowed him to pull me close, resting my head on his shoulder. He started to sway gently as if to rock me to sleep. “Why are you awake?” he asked.
I held tighter to Obi-Wan. “Awoke and couldn’t get back to sleep,” I lied. Dooku haunted Obi-Wan too much already, I wasn’t about to add to that.
Obi-Wan hummed, the rumble in his chest a pleasant sensation against my cheek. His hands, which had been resting on my back, started to wander up my torso with the intensity of an explorer. “You’re thin,” he noted before running his fingers up my neck, not unlike the way I’d examined the Kamionan female. “And tense.”
“So are you.” I pulled back enough to tap just beneath his hairline. “You hold all your tension right here.”
He lifted his eyebrows, wrinkling the skin of his forehead, making me laugh. His returning smile was so warm, it made my chest hurt. Stars, but I hadn’t seen him smile like that in so long, and his joy had a funny way of multiplying within me. His hands pulled back from my shoulders to encircle my wrists. “You still wrap them.”
“That’s not a question,” I replied, tilting my head at him.
He didn’t look playful as his gaze lifted from the wraps to my face. “Do they still cause you pain?”
“Stop worrying, I’m fine.”
“Do they?” he repeated.
I sighed. “Yes, they still hurt. It’s worse here because of the rain.”
Obi-Wan glanced out at the stormy clouds and waves, looking irritated. Even as he glared, his profile was statuesque with the prominence of his nose and the softness of his lips. Perhaps he was angry at Kamino for the rain, but I thought of the Kaminoan couple. The lights they’d made for each other were all the more precious because of the stormy darkness of Kamino.
I couldn’t help it—I reached up to touch Obi-Wan’s beard. I would’ve felt embarrassed, but Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered shut while a warm glow radiated from his Force signature.
“You’re my light,” I murmured.
His eyes opened, his eyebrows lowering in confusion. “What?”
“When I feel you through the Force,” I moved my hand through the hair leading up his jaw, “I feel light.”
Something pure and jovial enveloped me like a blanket. Obi-Wan chuckled, the sound a wash of heat warming me down to my toes. “And yet I would follow you through the dark.”
“You did follow me through the dark. And you pulled me out.”
He turned his head to press a kiss to my palm with an adoration capable of knocking the air from my lungs. “You pull me out of the darkness every day.”
I laughed, withdrawing my hands, but Obi-Wan just wrapped his arm around my back to hold me in place. “Are you laughing at me?” he asked, mirth dancing in his voice.
“I’m laughing at us, because we’re spouting poetry in the middle of a war.”
“Poets like war.” Obi-Wan leaned in to press his forehead to mine. “Gives them something to write about.”
I pulled back ever so slightly, strangely enjoying the brief disappointment on his face. “I thought poets wrote about love.”
“They’re basically the same,” he muttered. “Both make you feel insane.”
“And nauseous,” I added brightly.
The corners of Obi-Wan’s mouth turned up, but it was halfhearted. His eyes had dipped down, and he was leaning closer than he had a moment before.
My heart skipped a beat.
Why was he looking at me like that? He’d never looked at me like that before.
Oh I have. I could hear the smile in his voice, but it wasn’t on his face. Just not when you’ve been paying attention.
He leaned in until he was so close that I went cross-eyed trying to see him.
Was…was he going to kiss me?
Was I going to let him?
I hadn’t decided on either point when a quiet flash in my mind made me pause. “Wait.” I pulled out of Obi-Wan’s embrace, staring unseeing through the glass door.
Something was wrong.
I felt the rush of fear before I heard the scream.
Instantly I broke from Obi-Wan’s embrace, sprinting for the stairs.
Where are you going?
Ghon!
I didn’t bother to explain any further as I whipped down the stairs and through the hallway. When I reached the room, I had to duck around clones in various states of bleariness and confusion until I saw Ghon where I left him.
Rex knelt beside my padawan, trying to wake him.
“Stop!” Ghon cried, the shout ripping from his throat. “Don’t hurt her!”
“It’s his mother and sister,” I said to whoever was listening, my heart aching more than my knees as I fell on them. “Wake up!” I cried as I shook his shoulder.
One of Ghon’s arms flailed right towards my face, and I caught it, holding it tightly. “Ghon!”
Ghon’s eyes finally opened, and he sat bolt upright, his eyes wildly searching.
“You’re alright,” I soothed. “You’re safe.”
His eyes locked on mine. I brushed my hand over his forehead where his hair was stuck with sweat. “It was a dream.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice was tiny and quiet.
I pulled him in close. “It’s okay.” Rubbing his back, I hummed a tune one of the Rishii had sung just before sleeping every night. Ghon’s body lay tense on his bedroll for long enough for me to have to stifle a yawn of my own, but eventually his eyes fluttered shut and his body relaxed.
I remained, watching him as my hand—still on his back—rose and fell with his breaths. It hurt to see the memories that plagued him. He carried burdens heavier than most, burdens not meant for the young.
A surge of protectiveness shot through me, and I quickly withdrew my hand. Time to leave him be.
I joined the group at the one fake campfire still alight. I settled myself beside Obi-Wan. Maybe the clones would think it forward, but I needed his touch, even if it was just the brush of our arms and knees.
“Is the boy alright?” Obi-Wan asked. He did not look at me, but I could feel the concern he was trying to conceal in front of Skywalker and the clones.
I let out a sigh. “Physically, yes.” I looked around the group. “I apologize that he woke you all. I hope no one thought it was an attack.”
“You said it was his mother and sister?” Rex asked.
I nodded. “He lost them in a massacre. He’s one of the only survivors of his home planet.”
A loaded silence fell, punctuated by a quiet hum emitted by the device in the center of our group.
“Losing his mother will be a scar he carries for his whole life.” Skywalker was staring hard at the fake campfire light, but it wasn’t just the light that was reflected in his eyes.
“We’re all scarred by something or another,” I murmured. “I just wish Ghon wasn’t haunted quite so much.”
Captain Rex clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Your padawan will overcome.”
I gave him a soft smile. “Especially if he has the support I did.”
Rex’s cheeks reddened slightly, and he ducked his head.
Obi-Wan’s confusion hit me through the Force in full. What are the two of you talking about?
I stared at the flickering light. There was a lot Obi-Wan and I shared. As master and padawan, we shared so much time and so many experiences, we practically breathed in the same breaths.
Yet there were some stories I didn’t want to tell him. Sharing them hurt sometimes, and Obi-Wan carried too much of my pain already.
But his unparalleled determination would uncover the truth eventually. Captain Rex had never been able to overcome Obi-Wan's tenacity; he would tell Obi-Wan sooner than Obi-Wan would give up asking. Obi-Wan might as well hear it from me. I had bad nightmares too. Whenever Rex and I were at the same camp, he’d take the night watch so that when I woke…I had someone to talk to.
When you were Krell’s padawan?
I shifted uncomfortably. Yes. And when I was yours.
His light blazed, and Skywalker glanced over at Obi-Wan with a puzzled enough expression that I instinctively leaned away from Obi-Wan. You were having nightmares and you never told me?
I couldn’t look at him, shame heating my cheeks.
Is that why you couldn’t sleep tonight? he pressed.
I turned away, pretending to glance at my padawan who was thankfully still sleeping.
Y/N. There was enough heat in my name that I gathered the courage to peek at his lowered brows and pursed lips. Why didn’t you tell me?
I tried to figure out how to explain the shame that was tightly coiled in my chest. I thought I was weak for being so...bothered. I wasn’t in real danger, and I wasn’t in pain from a real injury. They were just dreams.
Obi-Wan’s disapproval settled into my shoulders like muscle aches. The fear was real. And you didn't have to face it alone.
Krell would've flayed me alive for complaining about such a thing.
But I would've helped you.
I dared to move my knee far enough to bump his. I know that now. His light calmed marginally, but I could still feel his discontent. It’s alright, I don’t have them near as much as I used to.
Obi-Wan’s signature burned too brightly to have been comforted by my words. I wish I could bear them for you.
My chest warmed. And that in and of itself makes the burden lighter.
-
The morning brought a break in the storm and news from the council that Ghon and I were to return to Rishii before nightfall. Out of us four Jedi that spoke with the council, none of us received the news ambivalently. Ghon’s shoulders slumped. Skywalker glanced at me. Obi-Wan’s light burned so low, it was a good thing the council was too far to sense it.
After the meeting, Obi-Wan walked towards me, but I turned to Ghon. “Shall we check the provisions on our ship?”
My padawan didn’t have a chance to nod before I ushered him out of the comm room.
It was hard enough to feel my own despair. I didn’t deal with it well, allowing Ghon to take stock of our supplies on the ship. Once the check was done, Ghon and I sat out on the dry platform and observed the waves. After my final check in the infirmary, we would leave.
I could feel Obi-Wan’s presence at my back. I hoped he was doing something more covert than just staring at us. Better yet, I hoped he wasn’t paying attention to me at all. The lingering shame of my nightmares still burned.
“Did you get some sleep?” I asked my padawan as I ate a ration cube.
Ghon twitched in a way that could’ve been affirmative.
I shifted my gaze to the dome covered with soot, squinting in the light of the sun. It was a very weak sun compared to Rishii’s sun, but it still burned my eyes after days of darkness. “Maybe if you talk about them,” I offered him my last ration cube, wishing it were chocolate cake instead, “we can work out what’s bothering you.”
Ghon waved his hand, declining my cube. “Master Yoda already tried.” He sounded tired, and I knew it went deeper than missing a good night’s sleep. Nightmares, whatever they were about, had a way of eating into one’s soul until it felt grotty enough to only be good for Jawas.
I looked up at the sky, trying to recall the most comforting things Rex had said. The right words could reassure Ghon and make him open up while the wrong ones would make him retreat into and lash out on himself.
“My nightmares,” I said slowly, “were always about my old master.” I wasn’t looking at my padawan, but I felt his Force signature still as he listened. “He used to hurt me. Tell me I wouldn’t ever be a good enough Jedi. Ignore me until I did something he approved of.”
Another, brighter Force signature behind me stilled as well, and I pursed my lips. I’d said too much, and now Obi-Wan was listening.
“What did he approve of?” Ghon asked quietly. He wasn’t sharing yet, but he was engaging, which had to be a good sign.
“Cruelty, either towards the clones or myself.”
“Cruelty to yourself?” Ghon echoed, and the light behind me flared.
“Yes,” I said with difficulty. “He liked it when I told him all my mistakes. Sometimes…if he’d been ignoring me for longer than a day…I would skip my dinner. Or take the night watch twice in a row or train until I was too sore and bruised to walk.” The pain shining from behind me made it so difficult to focus, I withdrew from the Force to quiet my mind. This was about Ghon, not me nor Obi-Wan.
“Why would he do that?” Ghon asked.
“There’s a lot of reasons people do awful things, Ghon, you know that just as well as I do.”
“But he was a Jedi.” Ghon’s face was tense. “Jedi shouldn’t do awful things.” He’d started pulling at a loose thread in his cloak, wrapping it tightly around his thumb until the tip of it turned purple.
I nodded. “You’re right. We shouldn’t.” There was a long silence while he gave a hard yank on the thread until it was long enough to twist between all the fingers of his right hand. “What are your dreams about, Ghon?”
“A lot of different things,” he hedged.
I waited patiently. If he didn’t share, I would simply tell him to spend the morning with Skywalker while I ran the med bay.
“It used to be…” He unraveled the thread, wrapping it around his pinkie this time. “Sometimes it was about home.”
My heart ached. “About your family?”
He nodded, a sort of unstable bob. “But now they’re about the future.”
Obi-Wan’s dusty and distraught face in the Archives flashed in my mind, my own premonition just before the attack on the temple. “When you’re a Jedi Knight?” I asked.
He nodded again, turning his face away from me so that I barely caught his next words. “Sometimes they’re about you.”
That was not what I had been expecting, and I worked to keep my voice level. “What about me?”
Ghon got to his feet. “Can I go see what Master Skywalker is doing?”
“Ghon.” I rose on shaky knees. “What do I do in these dreams?” His eyes were trained on the ground, his head hanging, and he did not answer. “Ghon, I promise you, I will never hate you.”
He let out a little sound that was not quite amused but not sad either. “That’s not it.”
“I will never hurt you either.” He shook his head, and I reached out to place my hands on his shoulders. “Ghon. Say it.”
“You die.” He lifted his head up, and the sight of his watery eyes sent another shock through me. “Over and over.”
My jaw dropped, and all I could do was stare at this precious, hurting boy.
Were these dreams the product of a troubled mind? Or was the Force trying to tell him something?
“Kid, you ready to spar?” Skywalker popped up from seemingly nowhere, scaring me enough that I released Ghon.
“Yeah,” he said and immediately followed Anakin without glancing back at me.
My head spun so wildly, it felt as though the platform underneath my feet tipped back and forth dangerously.
He dreamed about losing me.
Don’t hurt her, he’d cried when I’d tried to wake him up.
He risked himself in battle to make sure I had my weapon.
He made sure I always ate my ration cubes.
“Are you alright, sir?”
I blinked hard, staring at the clone who’d interrupted my thoughts. “Yes,” I said, but my tone was too uncertain. “Excuse me, I’m needed in the med bay.”
I hurried through the corridors, trying to put as much distance between me and my padawan as I could before the feelings welled up too high. With every thundering beat of my heart, I couldn’t stop the whirling of my thoughts.
I’d failed my padawan.
I’d never discouraged his reliance, so sure that giving him the support that he’d never received would help heal him and let him stand on his own feet. But now the idea of losing me tormented him.
That was what had been modeled for him. It’s what I’d modeled for him.
Stars, what had I done?
I burst into the med bay, and thankfully it was empty enough that neither the Kaminoan or the clones gave me anything more than a cursory nod as I walked to the adjoining room.
In the whisper of the door sliding shut behind me, I allowed it all to crash over me. Tears streamed down my face as I braced my hands against the wall.
“Y/N?”
Obi-Wan’s voice made me cringe, and then his hand on my shoulder made me shudder and pull away.
“What’s wrong?” Obi-Wan stood in front of me, eyes full of concern. “What’s happened?”
“I’ve failed,” I said faintly. Or did it just sound faint over the roaring of my ears? The roaring of the knowledge that I had failed at the thing I devoted my life to?
“What?”
“I’m a bad Jedi.”
His lips moved quickly, but I couldn’t hear him. He tried to touch my cheek, but I pulled away from him again, pressing my hands to my face. I needed to say something, but I couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, couldn’t see–
Breathe.
I immediately sucked in a breath.
Let it out.
I did so, the exhale catching on the knot in my throat several times.
Again.
The voice was Obi-Wan’s.
Let it out.
I blinked, slowly registering that my hands were over my face.
Again.
My fingers were tingling strangely. I peeled my fingers away, blinking at Obi-Wan. When did we sit down?
Let it out.
“I’m okay,” I managed to say.
“No, you’re not.” Obi-Wan tentatively reached out, and I allowed him to take my fingers—which were still tingling—in his hands. “What’s wrong?”
I looked at him, my eyes filling with tears again. “I’ve failed Ghon.”
Obi-Wan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you saying such a thing?”
“His nightmares–”
Breathe. You’re getting yourself worked up again.
I obeyed, taking a deep breath.
“You can’t control his nightmares,” Obi-Wan said softly. “No one can, you know that.”
“They’re about me!” I clapped my hand over my mouth, terrified that the clones would hear. Would they think me just as incompetent as I now knew myself to be?
Obi-Wan’s eyes shone with concern as he cradled my face. “He cares about you, that’s not a bad thing.”
I shook my head, looking desperately up into Obi-Wan’s face. “He fears losing me.”
“He almost did, Y/N, it’s not that uncommon–”
Gripping Obi-Wan’s arms as best I could without the full sensation of my fingers, I tugged. “No, Obi-Wan, he dreams of me dying. He fears losing me above everything else, that’s why he risked himself to get my lightsaber yesterday!”
“Padawans protect their masters,” Obi-Wan argued. “If I had to tell you all the times Anakin saved my life–”
“He risked himself for me. He’s overly attached to me.”
“That’s not necessarily–”
“It is my fault!” I burst out. “And it’s because I’m crossing one of the most important parts of the Code!”
Obi-Wan’s expression shuttered, and even though he looked pained, he didn’t pull away. “What are you saying?” His too-calm tone didn’t soothe the way it ordinarily might’ve.
“If…if it was between finishing a mission and saving Ghon…I don’t think I could prioritize the mission.” Another tear welled up in my eye and fell.
“Honey,” Obi-Wan said in a tone far too light, “he’s your responsibility, of course you want to protect him.”
I looked up at his face. “But you’re not my padawan…and I’d choose to protect you too.”
His light cracked and popped like the embers of a home fire. I bit my lip, trying not to cry. “What kind of Jedi does that make me? What kind of teacher am I if that’s what I model for my padawan?”
Obi-Wan’s face fell. Did he also feel bad? Was he wondering what he had modeled for Skywalker? I realized I still clung to Obi-Wan and loosened my grip. But instead of letting me go, Obi-Wan gently brought my hands to the rough tunic covering his chest.
Do you feel the Force? he asked. When you’re with me?
I furrowed my brows and nodded.
This does not remove us from it. The Force is with us.
I slowly shook my head, unable to feel the comfort he tried to impart. “The Force is with Dooku. It was with Krell. Feeling the Force doesn’t mean we are good.”
Obi-Wan’s light whooshed as if I’d hit him squarely in the chest as hard as I could. He let go of my hands and stepped back. “Do you…want this to end?”
Almost instinctively, I wrapped my arms around him, pressing every part of my body into him in the hopes that I could imprint the pounding feelings of my heart onto his. No. Without you, I have nothing.
Jedi were supposed to have nothing.
As Obi-Wan had said back on Taris, this is what we were made for.
I buried my face into his chest, thankful Obi-Wan seemed as reluctant to let me go as I was to stand on my own two feet. For several long moments, neither of us said anything.
Krell fell to the dark side when he started prioritizing his own thoughts and beliefs over the ways of the Jedi. And though feeling the way I felt for Obi-Wan seemed like a beautiful, harmless thing…we followed the Jedi Code for a reason, so our power was never abused.
I could not allow myself or Obi-Wan to fall to the dark side.
“I don’t want to stop this,” I said finally, pulling away enough to glimpse Obi-Wan’s stony expression. “But if we keep doing this, we can’t let it get in the way. We have to give each other permission to prioritize the Order.”
Was it my imagination, or did the corners of Obi-Wan’s mouth turn down? I want to agree.
You…want to?
He nodded, obviously frowning now. I don’t know if I can…I can’t just give a part of me. His lips pursed, and I felt his disappointment without knowing if it was aimed at me or himself or even just the whole galaxy. I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to explain it.
My heart clenched painfully in my chest, but I shamefully couldn’t think of anything to say. The idea that Obi-Wan might choose me over our way of life…it was tantalizing.
And so unbelievably selfish. The choice I was so afraid of us making…I wanted us to make it.
We both do our duties. The Republic has our bodies and our sabers for its cause. Obi-Wan’s eyes bore into mine, the beautiful blue zinging me somewhere in my stomach. Do we owe it our hearts as well?
I wished I had the right answer or even any answer. But all I could offer was, I don’t know.
Obi-Wan sighed. Me either. Our collective unhappiness filled the space, rank and rotten through the Force.
I wish we were free.
The sudden words ricocheted from some part deeper than my mind, and Obi-Wan and I were both so shocked by it, we pulled away from each other.
Freedom?
We weren’t slaves, starving and mistreated. With our great capabilities and positions, we had no cause for unrest like the millions, billions in the galaxy who were experiencing cruelty and injustice.
And yet…
Obi-Wan caressed my face with his calloused hands and desperation, his red-rimmed eyes bringing tears to my own. I can’t breathe without you.
How could a statement, so simple and unadorned, nearly bring me to my knees?
When I'm not with you, all I do is wish you were with me, I replied. And that wishing…makes me so sure of how I feel for you.
Obi-Wan thickly cleared his throat, his brows furrowing. “I have been wrestling for months…feeling so resolved one moment and so guilty the next.” He took a long breath and let it out, and I could feel it on my face. “But now I’ve decided.”
“Decided what?” I asked, both fearing and craving the answer.
Whatever happens and however long it takes…it’s you.
My hands started to shake.
The absolute conviction in his words could not be questioned, even as my doubts assailed me. We did not know when we would next see each other. We did not know if we would stay alive long enough to even see each other. And if we did, there was no guarantee that we would both survive this war.
But as I looked into Obi-Wan’s earnest eyes, my own filled with tears.
Obi-Wan brushed them away like it was his solemn duty. Someday, the duties of my heart and my body will be reunited. And on that day, I will fulfill the promise I’m ready to make.
“I’m not,” I blurted. “I’m not ready.” My cheeks immediately grew hot, and I tried to look away, but Obi-Wan caught my chin.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his grip endlessly tender. “I can wait.”
-
Double Seven’s wound was healing better than I could have hoped. “Look at that,” I said in awe as I peeled back the regeneration pad. Just because I knew how the regeneration pad worked didn’t mean it didn’t feel like a miracle.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Double Seven noted with surprise.
I finished pulling the pad off, smiling at the brand new skin covering his chest. “Not bad, Double Seven, if I do say so myself.”
His eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “Double Seven?”
“Oh.” I blushed. “Sorry, CT-4877.”
The confusion cleared way for a wondrous smile. “Is that…my nickname?”
“Not if you don’t want it to be,” I assured him. “You could just be Double or something completely different.”
“I like Double.” He cocked his head, suddenly regarding me with amazement similar to mine for the regeneration pad. “So the Jedi really do give clones nicknames.”
I wiped down his chest with disinfectant; infection of newly generated skin was awful and could be deadly. “Everyone deserves their own name.”
“Master.” Ghon stood in the door of the med bay. “It’s time to go.”
Dread hit me like a blow. I nodded, trying to conceal my disappointment as I squeezed Double’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”
“Yes, General.”
I bid the rest of the clones farewell and walked with Ghon to our ship, my footfalls heavy. Where are you? I couldn’t leave without bidding him goodbye.
Waiting.
Sure enough, when we reached the double doors that lead to our ship, Obi-Wan and Skywalker were waiting. Neither were smiling.
“Thank you for all the sparring!” Ghon said brightly to Skywalker.
Skywalker grinned then, a completely warranted response to my padawan, I thought. “Keep practicing, and you’ll be better than Obi-Wan in no time.”
Obi-Wan chuckled, and despite the sadness permeating his Force signature, the chuckle sounded genuine. Judging by Skywalker’s glance, however, he wasn’t buying it.
“He’s already better than me.” I smiled at Ghon, feeling unsquashable affection.
“That’s the hope of every master,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “That his padawans will be better than himself.”
Skywalker and I shared a glance, and I could feel my reaction echoed in him. Us, better than Obi-Wan? Better than the best Jedi we knew?
Obi-Wan seemed to shake off his musings. “Thank you both for your assistance. Knight Y/L/N, your healing expertise was invaluable."
I gave a warning look. “Make sure those in the med bay aren’t released too soon, no matter how stubborn they are.”
When Obi-Wan only grimaced, Skywalker saluted. “Will do.”
Ghon bowed and pulled his hood over his head before walking out the doors.
“May the Force be with you,” Skywalker said to me before turning and leaving Obi-Wan and I by the doors. I watched him go, wondering what reason he had for giving Obi-Wan and I a moment alone. Then I dragged my gaze to face the impassive expression of Obi-Wan.
“May the Force be with you,” I said softly, giving a little bow.
Obi-Wan lifted his chin, and I envied his ability to hide the pain I knew he was feeling. “And with you.”
I turned away. Until next time, be safe, Obi-Wan. The rain pelted against my hood as I strode towards our ship.I don't know when I will see you next, said Obi-Wan, the hum of light in every word. But I promise I will remain yours until then and after then.
