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evabellasworld · 3 years

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By the Stream

March Madness Challenge for @starwarsfandomfests

What happened, what’s wrong?

You’re sitting alone by the stream

The green grass is sprouting up

And the water splashes with the spring wind

I’m sure there was a promise

That even if you go, you won’t be gone forever

But every day you come to the stream

What are you thinking about?

Even if you go, you won’t be gone forever

Is that asking me not to forget you?

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Summary: Obi-Wan and Vanya were sitting beside the stream, not knowing what will become of the long-standing friendship that they built together.

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AO3 Link

Staring at the crystal-clear stream in front of her, Vanya was seated on a large rock, with stalks of yellow-orange daisies in her hands, with a smile on her face. Her surroundings were filled with wildflowers and polka-dotted mushrooms grown across the emerald field, along with the refreshing breeze in the air. The sun was shining on the blue sky as the puffy cloud above her glided, giving a sense of serenity inside her.

For months, the battles across the Outer Rims were bloodthirsty. Many of her troops were sacrificed in the battlefield as a price to pay for the Republic's victory. The fields that she was admiring were once soaked in blood and rotting corpses that painted across the bare valleys.

Trenches were dug deep and barbed wires were set up, marking each territory for both the Republic and the Separatists forces. Anyone who trespasses was either shot on sight or disappeared, never to be seen again. Vanya recalled assigning 35 clone troopers to gather intel from their enemies and so far, only 5 had survived.

Her heart aches as she laid on her bunk every single night, wondering whether the rest of her soldiers were still out there. It would be easier to think that the remaining 28 men and women were all dead, probably buried somewhere in the area. On the other hand, Vanya could not help but think that maybe, just maybe, they would return home to their brother’s and sister’s embrace.

Why did I even bother fighting this war in the first place? she thought, sniffing through the sweet scent of the flower. It’s not like we were protecting innocent people of the Republic in the first place.

She glanced at the stream again, only to notice the fishes that were swimming along together. For three years, she had been fighting a war that doesn’t seem to end anytime soon. Though her friends informed her that the Separatist were losing their grip on the Outer Rim, Vanya cannot be too sure about their statement.

In truth, nobody, including herself, had any idea when the Clone Wars would end. She was sure that the war would be over in a few months, but that few months became a year, before it turned into three excruciating years. If another year has passed, then she would be a forty-year-old woman, along with her longtime friends, Cinta Kaarim and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Her former apprentice, on the other hand, would be a fourteen-year-old girl, the same age that Ahsoka became a commander of the 501st Legion. How time flies so fast, she laughed to herself. Just yesterday, Lira was the little girl who was always asking a lot of questions and talking endlessly and now, she’s blossoming into a teenager and soon, she’ll grow into a strong and brave woman.

The thought of her Padawan growing up made her shiver, realising the uncertain future for her and her twin sister, Eva. Will the girls have to grow up to finish the war for us? Vanya bit her fingernails. Will they survive, or will they die young?

That was the question that bounced around her head the moment they were assigned as Jedi Generals for the 101st Battalion, much to both her and Obi-Wan’s distress. As she watches an Eden green butterfly land on top of the flower, her lips curve downwards when it flees in fright, prompting her to turn around and figure out what startled the fragile creature.

Rather, she found Obi-Wan pacing towards her the entire time, making her cross her arms and gave him an icy glare. “You know, your tactics of scaring other people is starting to bore me,” Vanya remarked, as he let out an amusing chuckle.

“Well, in that case, I’ll have to find another way to grab your attention,” he teased, as he sat beside her and grinned, hoping to crack his stone-faced friend. “Besides, you seem to always be in your head all the time. Should I be worried or should I stay out of your internal conflicts?”

“What do you want?” she breathed, her lips stiffened.

“Well, you’ve been sitting alone by the stream,” he answered, his voice laced with concern. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing really,” Vanya shook her head. “It’s just the thought of us not seeing each other again just pains me too much.”

“But even if you go, you won’t be gone forever,” Obi-Wan assured, placing his hands on her shoulder. “Besides, we promised that we would always have each other’s back, no matter what.”

“But what if I didn’t make it alive?” she pined. “The Outer Rim is currently in siege and right now, I can’t even guarantee if I’m able to make it back to the Jedi Temple.”

“Vanya, don’t say that. You will come back to the Temple once everything is over, and you will see Lira and Eva again, I promise.”

“How can you even be optimistic right now, when you’ve been seeing your own men die under your command? You’ve even lost Satine on Mandalore, and you lose sleep worrying about Anakin and Eva’s strained relationship with each other.”

Obi-Wan bobbed his head, his eyebrows drooped. “You’re right. It’s difficult to think positively, especially when both your apprentices are fighting with each other too frequently. It’s hard when Eva kept crying on how Anakin was saying nasty things to her and how he felt unfair when I called him out on his behaviour. But what can I do? Eva has been depressed for years, and I have to stay strong just for her sake. I can’t afford to break down in front of her, since she’s already been through a lot.”

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan,” Vanya apologised profusely, her head hung low. “I didn’t mean to provoke you like that.”

“No, Vanya, there’s nothing to apologise for,” he let out a weak smile. “It’s just that I’ve been keeping to myself for too long, and I thought that it would be better if I just let it all out, you know.”

She nodded as she squeezed her nose and wiped her hands on her dress, shifting her focus to the gentle stream. “So, how’s Anakin?”

“The usual,” shrugged Obi-Wan. “You know, flying recklessly, almost getting himself for a billion times, yeah, those are the things that I have to deal with for more than ten years.”

“That bad, eh?” her nose crinkled.

“Well, he had a rough upbringing when he was around Eva’s age. He was enslaved until my master, Eva’s father, rescued him and made me his master as his death wish. Then, he had to watch his own mother die a decade later, and even till today, he blamed himself for not being able to save her from those Tusken Raiders.”

“That was sad,” Vanya sympathised. “But that doesn’t excuse him for hurting other people’s feelings, especially Eva. The girl’s only thirteen, and she’s already in a fragile state of mind.”

“That is true,” he acknowledged. “Ever since Ahsoka left, Anakin is back to his destructive behaviour. His possessiveness towards Padmé, his anger issues, says it all. I’ve tried talking to him, but you know him. He’s as stubborn as a mule.”

“The apple doesn’t seem to fall far from the tree,” she commented. “You were just as stubborn as him when you were still an apprentice to Master Qui-Gon Jinn.”

He snorted, before clearing his throat. “I could say the same for you and Master Plo Koon. You always insisted on flying, even if it was too dangerous.”

“Yup, and now, the cycle repeats with Lira. I have to admit, as jumpy as Lira is, she is one hell of a pilot.”

“It’s like you said, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Obi-Wan repeated her words. “Master Plo was a pilot, you are a pilot, and now, Lira is following your footsteps into becoming a star pilot like the both of you.”

“And Anakin and Eva also have your piloting skills, though you hated flying so much.”

“Yeah, I had a bad experience with them,” he rubbed behind his neck, plucking a small, white daisy beside him. “You know the incident on Pijal. Even to this day, it still haunts me in my dreams.”

“I know, and I’m sorry that you had to go through that, really. No child should experience these kinds of horrors.”

“And we let a fourteen-year-old and two 10-year-olds fight in a barbaric war,” he exhaled. “I just hope that this war will end sooner. I miss the days when the only thing we had to worry about was maintaining peace in the Galactic Republic.”

She groaned in frustration. “God, I hate politics so much. It’s just too many red strings that prevent us from taking further action, you know. I don’t even know why the Jedi Council had to get involved in the first place.”

“I see where you’re coming from. Too many politicians, with a few exceptions, are corrupted. They would rather fill their pockets with credits than caring about the citizens instead. Honestly, I have a feeling that the Republic will crumble eventually. It’s too fragile to maintain its pillars.”

“True,” she relented as she got up from her seat, holding a bouquet with both hands. “Well, I should get going. The Council assigned me to another battle and I have to depart as soon as possible.”

He nodded and bowed. “Is that asking me not to forget you?”

“I guess so,” Vanya lifted her shoulders. “But like you said, I won’t be gone forever, and so will you.”

“Goodbye Vanya,” Obi-Wan gave his last wave at her. “I hope we’ll see each other again once the war is over.”

“I will, Obi-Wan,” she promised, before leaving him by the stream, where the grasses were sprouting up and the water splashes with the spring wind. Little did they know, this was their last conversation with each other before the end of the era.

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virtuosin · 3 years

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Time was overall subjective when this far out beyond the Edgeworlds. It was hard to keep track of birthdays, and holiday events however being in the Empire, he had a sense for such things as they worked to help pinpoint memories, and schedules. So when the infamous day of Valentines had come around - Sona would find a box on the bed in the hotel room. Plain. Unassuming. Sat atop it would be a note which upon being unfolded would offer a map and instructions.

Follow the map through the tunnels by 23:45. Do not open the box until you reach the specified location. Use the light on top of the box to illuminate the tunnels. You will find something identifiable once you reach the designated spot.

The lights within the cavern city dimmed to entice the bio luminescent rock ceiling high above. Torchlight took up the streets in a warm glow giving the atmosphere a welcoming, and peaceful vibe. The tunnels too were lit, but only a short ways into the maze. She would have to follow the map to the letter if she had any hope of locating the designated destination.

It would take… a little time. A little effort. Starlight shimmers across the rockface made it seem like she were wandering the galactic plain. A landscape threatening to consume her imagination with its warm twinkles, and dense atmosphere. Even the low laying mists looked like they were kissed with the colors of a nebula, swirling effortlessly with the sway of her steps and motion of her body.

It was upon arrival that the woman would find the identifiable marker. A lantern hung low from an iron arm curved up and over a small mountain of sand and rocks. Stones made stairs spiraling up to its crest to reveal a basket concealed under a small hand towel and two pillows stacked atop a folded blanket under the faint glow of quiet firelight contained within its glass prison.

Another note would be hung from a thin string dangling from the base of the lantern.

Blow out the candlelight, and open the box.

Should she do so, she would find that the cave was not as dark as it originally seemed as moonlight immediately consumed its reaches from an opening high above. Higher than even the storms that raged across the surface of the planet. The light was strange but not for the moon itself, but the source; the neutron start that blazed so strangely not terribly far off. It’s bluish hue thrown off the snowcaps of the moon to radiate gently down into the depths of this place. It was stunning. But more than that – When she would open the box, a single flower would rest inside. It stirred as it felt the rays with reactive pollen creeping from within the flower like tiny fireflies reaching out to the sky. Harmless, and beautiful. As the flower turned to bask in the moonlight, wide, vibrant petals would spread one at a time until fully blossomed. It was alive. Responsive even to the direction the lights would come from always seeking to embrace the rays as if it were the greatest gift that could be given to it.

Behind her Kayn stood with his hands rested to his back. His eyes keen and observant, making a point to not give his position away. To linger at the edges of her vision to drink in her response, and the unfurling of the moon flower.

It would be a few minutes giving her the ability to bask in the moment before he would make himself known, speaking plainly as he watched the tiny pollen fragments drift higher and higher forever seeking the rays of the moon.

“This moon flower is not named only for its reaction to lunar light, but because the pods actually thrive in space making homes on the surface of moons, or near to them. Tide locked are among their favorites, and tend to prosper because there is no waning of light, nor necessity to relocate.”

His steps were calm, and calculated, taking his time to join her, “Consider this a gift. A show of appreciation for your efforts despite–” Kayn waves his hand absently, “–our disagreements.” More like his disapproval of some things, but he surely wasn’t going to get into it.

If she were to pull the towel off the basket, she would find a simple, but well loved meal common among the people of her home world. He doesn’t comment. He simply tends to the blanket, unfolding it and plopping the pillows down so the pair had a place to sit.

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It was late, and by the time Sona found the letter left behind by the Ordinal, Sona had already removed her binding for the day. She hoped he’d understand when she showed up to the location in her normal attire. In truth, she hadn’t any issues traversing the city nor the tunnels--aside from the abyss of twilight which nearly caused her to trip twice. But at least she made it safely within the hollowed out network of corridors. Part of her wondered what he had in store for her this time. Kayn was full of mysteries and his displays were nothing short of grandiose. Always one for the flair, that one. There could be all manner of things he could be plotting for her but...

Whatever she had been thinking--this wasn’t it.

Seated upon the blanket and pillows, Sona finds herself in the moonlit cavern, the flower in the box beside her and the basket on Kayn’s side. The meal before her is not only nostalgic, but coincidentally a favorite of hers; Gyūdon--fresh rice with thinly sliced beef and fragrant slivered onions, cooked with dashi, soy, and mirin. There were even mushrooms and a bit of ginger as well. What’s more, it had a dollop of what looked to be shichimi, a type of ground chili pepper that Galrin was known for. It really was a shock to see a staple from home, to the point that she didn’t wish to disturb the bowl--instead she wanted to admire it for a bit longer, as if it were a piece of art not meant for consumption. Yet, the Ordinal’s pointed glare was all the silent urging she needed to grasp her chopsticks and dig in.

“I must have lost track of time. Certain holidays are universal, even where I’m from. This must mean we’re nearing the fire festival back at home.” Sona reflects aloud, her smile warm and bright. With a warm meal before her so reminiscent of home, she continues to eat and drown in the memories, allowing her senses to be taken over by the comforting sweetness of days past. “You’re full of surprises, Shieda. I gratefully accept this incredible gesture...heh, I don’t even know how you managed all this on Shedola. It’s nothing short of talented.” And she means it. Sona never seeks to fluff up anyone’s ego with hot air, least of all Kayn--he doesn’t need it. However, she’s able to recognize ingenuity, prowess, and ability when she sees it. “It does mean a lot...I-”

“-I don’t...have much to give to you in turn though.” Sona goes quiet for a moment, knowing that Kayn would dismiss such musings. Still, she couldn’t. If she had realized the date, she’d have prepared him baked goods--those were always a perfect gift around this time of year and she knew he enjoyed her food enough. Not that she had ample opportunity to do so, even if she had known of the holiday fast approaching. It gnawed on her mind that she hadn’t anything substantial to give such as a materialistic gift nor succulent--but a thought occurs to Sona as she finishes her bowl; a gift of a different kind that wouldn’t require much from her, but it would still be something which might interest the man so eager to learn.

“Shieda,” Sona calls out his name while standing up. “I know you’re an educated man, but perhaps you didn’t know-” Sona would glance over her shoulder towards the man, a faint smile on her lips. As she does, she steps forward, a hand upon her bosom to calm her racing heart. It’s such a simple thing that she’s about to do, and yet she can’t calm down. She can never shake the nerves, even in the privacy of this cavern. When was the last time she had done this?

“-the Order is quite an old organization and has been around for countless generations. While we have evolved with the times, there once was a time where we memorized oral histories and events. Nothing was ever written, only spoken. It made every individual in the group precious and important, as each carried with them part of the galaxy’s stories and traditions.” Sona smiles a bit brighter, hoping the flash of teeth would help calm her nerves. “The original Templars were nomadic, held no material possessions, and often communed with Ora--though most of their tales have faded into antiquity due to the nature of their paperless ideals. Only folklore and unverified recordings of events exist, knowledge still passed on from the founders of the past to the youth of today. Even if it bears no particular importance on the events of today, it is part of our values to learn of our forebears.” “What’s more-” Sona takes a deep breath. “-is that their voices live on through arcane scripture, written in a dead language that only High Templars are permitted to learn.” Sona turns, now facing the twinkling expanse of the cavern. With the milky moonlight pouring fourth from the opening in the ceiling, it nearly looks as though a halo of snow forms across her crown, an almost ethereal sight.

“Being who I am--what I am--I learned the archaic dialect and their ancient hymns.” And with a final breath to rid herself of what anxiety remained, Sona would part her lips--and she would sing. Music was her life, the small bit of self-expression and freedom afforded to her in life. It was an intimate experience, sharing her song to Kayn in that moment, using the language scarcely known in the entire universe.

“Kuwata tsunowo vralai Tsuriji pufuralekai Kwondzuvai undovartsu wronduwail Tjortetei jeki liago Jiunmata ivelischpfuli Neftyoma sorepiyamei Schijiyako alefni fatalliliya Nic'hpisfa unhoreselye Otrajain aforeje kurasolda Towari hatasei mic'hatasei tsufrallai Otrajain aforeje kurasolda Towari hatasei mic'hatasei tsufrallai ilja Ullilya kojijichatjukaijai-wa nyame fretsumekri fretsumekri linganmai Ulreri manja huteharraku-mu harirch lahadachfei lahadachfei shindulhwo“

It wasn’t a magnificent performance filled with pyrotechnics and an orchestral swell. She’s certain he’s heard far better among the Empire concert halls and various parades his home boasts. Even so, there is something so pure and sincere in her voice, in the way the acoustics of the cavern exemplify the purity to her singing. She had been so nervous to share her melody and part of her heritage to him, but now that her singing has ceased and she has a moment to breathe, she realizes that Kayn is not the type of man to scorn her for what makes her unique. Even as an Ordinal, he would not mock that which she offers him in kind. It’s not the exact gift she had in mind to give him, though she hopes the new insight on her people--and the performance itself--is still enjoyable for him...even without her beloved instrument.

And in the end, she was able to bear more of herself to him--something that is perhaps the most priceless thing of all.

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