some canon facts with small additions, as well as some headcanons. all are more or less relevant to my portrayal of him, since we know very little about his background. under a cut cause it’s long whoops.
first of all: i finally figured out the age thing. triss, though she may be wrong of course, says iorveth has been “fighting humans for a full century at least” and while geralt calls iorveth an “old elf in a young elf’s skin” i would argue the age that might qualify an elf as “old” rather than young is .... much higher than in humans.
i am placing iorveth at around 200-250 years old, meaning he did not parttake in aelirenn’s rebellion, but he was one of the young elves who learned its consequences. it left a lasting impact on him. he does not believe in humans to the sea, to that extent, but a part of her cause stuck with him. not enough to follow yaevinn, though !
his family being healers and hunters, iorveth learned many important skills at a young age and soon became an excellent tracker. he learned less from the healing side, though basic wound care and a general knowledge of elven herbs and ointments stuck with him.
the feeling of betrayal after nilfgaard gave up the scoia’tael commanders to be executed after the peace of cintra has never left him. that in combination with the ban of all scoia’tael from dol blathanna and francesca’s ( forced ) refusal to aid her own people have instilled a deep bitterness within him. iorveth learned he is on his own, with nowhere to go.
the dialogue when roche almost kills him is underlines my point: “I don't regret that it's you. After so many years, it would be stupid to die from an accidental bolt in the eye or, worse yet, influenza...”
iorveth wants to die fighting. he could never run away. he will give every last bit he can give for a brighter elven future.
npc dialogue tells us roche lost his eye to a soldier during a fight in the pontar valley. said soldier thought it killed him, and considering the injury this seems an understandable conclusion. i believe iorveth survived not only due to his incredible stubbornness, but also the undying faith of his commando, who likely would have died protecting him until he regained his strength.
the gravity of his scar suggests infection. it was likely the worst pain he has ever experienced and alluding to it will only get you a very curt reply.
i think he did have feelings for saskia, though he himself was never quite sure to what extent. but he understood quickly and for many reasons that pursuing anything would be useless. besides, iorveth has no illusions about the fact that love is hardly in the cards for him, even if she had reciprocated.
iorveth knows coexistence with humans is just as impossible as eradicating them. he learned the lesson aelirenn died for, though he honours her sacrifice and cannot help but empathise with her vigor. but he will never give up or run. he will fight for nonhumans as long as they are pursued. he has no hope of being allowed into dol blathanna, nor does he wish to be. the only goal he can hope to attain is to drive humans away as far as possible, so that elven and other nonhuman societies might bloom once more.
i think this quote from cedric is quite telling:
“They believe they are still independent and that there is but one just way to view their cause. In truth, however, they're but a shadow of the Aen Seidhe's former glory. They cling to delusions to the very moment when a sword or a noose ends their life. Or until they realize the truth themselves. Which is, I believe, the worst.”
what he wants is peace, though at the point of witcher 3, all the ways of attaining it seem to be slipping away. an ideal scenario is no longer there, and he fights mainly to survive and keep nonhumans as safe as he can. a greater goal must be cast aside in favour of survival sometimes.
the scar is quite symbolic. a beautiful elf turned ugly and feared. a lot of witcher 2 dialogue confirms that iorveth is known to be vicious, that the people of the valley fear him while his scoia’tael would readily die for him. they regard him a terrorist, and his methods have changed over time. idealism turned realism. the dream of a bright future for elves turned into a mere hope for survival and a time to lay down the arms.
he cut his hair after the eye injury because it got in the way of healing and has kept it short since. ( it was below shoulder length before ) though he grows it out again while hiding in novigrad.
the loss of his eye has not impacted his skills with a bow, though it has led him to be more careful when drinking, since he is more likely to lose his balance or run into things when tipsy considering his three dimensional vision is gone. his scoia’tael never say anything because commenting on it would surely earn their commander’s ire.
um yea if u read all this i think u deserve an award...... also i know this has been super long but i would not put it beyond me to make a part 2. whoops. im just a little in love with him.
Okay okay so LET’S GET INTO IT!! (added a cut because it’s a little long lmaoooo)
This fic follows the alternating perspectives of two characters, Ben Kenobi and ‘the soldier’ (Cody), on their respective journeys in the Imperial Era. Obi-Wan on Tatooine to watch over Luke, and the soldier working as a special type of purgetrooper, receiving orders from the Emperor himself.
It opens with Ben. He is worn from his years on Tatooine, and alone. He is haunted by loss. He is haunted by hope. He imagines that Cody will find him. He feels it is inevitable. It is muddled whether he believes his visions of Cody are real or not. Perhaps they’re not visions at all, but idle daydreams of a desperate man.
The chair across from him is empty.
The second man lifts his utensils with cautious grace, prodding at the dried meat covering his own toast. His mouth is twisted, as if in confusion, as if in pain.
I wanted to show Ben’s unsteady base in the present. He is aware of the truth. He knows the chair is empty. But that’s not what matters to him.
...
The contrast between his perspective and the soldier's was most important to me. Ben is a man mourning so many people he'll never see again that he can only bring himself to focus on the one who might still return. The soldier, however, can't remember anything, but feels the unforgettable strength of every loss. It was a lot of fun deliberately picking and choosing what Ben remembered, while Cody seemed to be drowning in a history just beyond his reach.
In the soldier's first scene, he is on the Emperor's Star Destroyer. He is being punished yet again for failing to kill Obi-Wan, and he is being given his orders. It's clear that he does his job well, but still he cannot escape what he cannot remember.
Stars stretch out all around him, he thinks. Somewhere beyond these cold walls they’re waiting, gentle and kind and slow to wake. It is difficult to remember how it feels, looking up at them. There is very little warmth here.
I liked this little section especially. The semi-personification of the stars was a specific reference to Obi-Wan. Had they been together during the war? Who knows. I do know that the soldier still thinks of a softness in sleep, still thinks of warmth, still thinks of the stars. Always, always, he is aware that the life he has now is wrong, though he does not know why. It lingers nonetheless.
He is given orders to seek out a Jedi temple on another planet and 'purge' it.
...
Ben's next scene is meant to mimic a sort of desert mirage/heat-addled vision. lmao. But as opposed to last time, Cody's appearance does not have good tidings. Ben imagines how Cody would kill him.
His 'visions' are not necessarily ones of hope. But always there is an ending. Ben so desperately seems to want that ending.
...
There are a lot of little things I wanted to do within this fic. One was handle the difference between the Cody that Ben was creating and the real Cody.
The Cody that Ben remembered is young, scared but also brave. There is a lot of nature surrounding Ben's idea of him. He is a tree at the centre of a flooded river. He is, as always, the sun.
The sands rise up whirling in a great heaving breath, spanning work-calloused fingers across the sky and cupping the suns in quiet palms. Rays of light flutter like moth wings, before they cease to struggle.
Ben curls up on the couch and shivers. On the cushion next to him a datapad glows mournfully. The shadows grow darker.
There is a knock on the door.
The visitor is wrapped in layer upon layer, and sand falls to the floor like stars, sticking gritty to the soles of Ben’s bare feet. The door slides shut.
“Cody,” Ben says, swaying. “Cody, how–?”
The visitor tugs down his goggles, unwinds the fabric from over his nose and mouth. His eyes are bright, warm as suns set free.
Cody, as Ben imagines him here, is larger than life. He protects the light in the storm, hides stars within the protection of his tunics. Or I guess you could say he sees Cody in everything, just as the soldier, unknowingly, sees him. (Plus, sorry, I just really like that snippet.)
The real Cody, however, feels worn down, like a dull blade. He fights because he can’t remember ever being promised otherwise. He is a soldier with blood on his hands. He can tell that something is wrong, but he has no idea what. He feels guilt.
They are found eventually, the guards stopping in their tracks at the sight waiting, a still figure in white and a black-armoured creature curled head-bowed over them.
It's as if something is missing from him. Even in his own perspective, he is hollow.
...
Their stories continue. The soldier arrives at the temple, Ben watches over Luke as he plays. The soldier kills a Jedi, and Ben kills 'Cody'.
This second Jedi we see Cody kill, knowing that there are hundreds between the first and her, is special to me. An old woman, guardian of a faraway temple, she had nothing to do with the war, or the apparent uprising Palpatine has blamed them for. She does not know why the clones killed her family. But just before she dies, she is allowed to find out. She senses the chip in Cody's brain.
She gets a peace that neither Cody or Ben do. She understands the truth.
...
These last two scenes were why I wrote the whole fic, honestly. For this paralleled watching of the sunrise. Ben and Cody are in vastly different locations, leading vastly different lives, but still there is that connection between them.
In the second last scene, I change the way Ben imagines Cody. It is not a vision anymore. There is no doubt about whether he knows the truth. It's only one line that directly acknowledges the impact Cody has on the entire scene. Simply, he wishes that Cody was there.
Ben notes every shift in colour, every new shade. The sands warm with the golden light, the timid pink and orange. A single spot on the hazy horizon glows brighter than the rest. He cannot look away.
The entire world shines. The sands glisten, like a quiet ocean rolling against the shore. It is beautiful.
He would rest his head on Ben’s shoulder.
The first sun crawls aching past the horizon, the second following loyally—devotedly—behind. The air warms, baking under the force of sudden light.
And there, finally, are those two suns who cannot be separated. This second sun's loyalty is a reference to something Ben's imagined Cody saying before.
“You were wrong, years ago. When you called me the most loyal man you’ve ever known.” Cody’s fingers graze Ben’s. Ben intertwines them, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You were wrong. It was always you, who was loyal. Still are. To everyone who ever hurt you, still you are loyal.”
Though Cody was Ben's second-in-command, it is Ben who thinks always of him.
The final scene is the soldier’s sunrise. It is quiet, absent of pain or lingering shadows. Just like during the war, the sun is something he chose for himself. The sharp edges of the descriptions again are meant to contrast the melancholy of Ben’s perspective. But both are meant to be peaceful and slow, and somehow in their respective solitude they are the closest to being together again.
I like to think of it. The only time Ben doesn’t create that figment of Cody, but only longs for him to be there. The only time the soldier is completely and utterly alone. And yet they are meant to be the least lonely scenes in the story.
So hungry haven't eaten all day as is my foolish custom lately because I don't feel well/I'm sad blah. I wanna order a gyro? Or run downtown and grab Greek before the place closes but I probably won't make it. But that's kinda crazy since I feel bad from yesterday still. Maybe I'll eat some eggs or fruit or tea or go to bed. (Stares sadly into fridge) I need to go shopping.....
