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bluejaysandblackbats · 13 days

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Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn’t die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 16/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake, Donna Troy

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Seventeen: The Campaign: Malatra Pt. 1

Tim slept in his bed one last time while I packed our things. My phone rang, and I answered to keep from waking Tim up. “Hello?” I whispered.

“Jason, I heard about your friend’s mother—.”

“You don’t have to say anything… Um, Barbara, can I ask you for a favor?” I interrupted.

“I don’t know. It depends… Is it illegal?” Barbara asked.

“No. It’s—. I need you to help me get back in fighting shape. I know Bruce won’t change his mind because I can throw a couple of solid punches, but I’ve gotta do this for myself. I need to know I didn’t let the accident beat me,” I explained. I told her as much of the truth as I could.

“Jason… Wednesday through Friday after school. No excuses,” Barbara replied. I grinned.

“I’ll be there. I promise,” I whispered, “Thank you. Thank you, Barbara. You’re the best.” Barbara was a tough person to move. She wasn’t emotionally driven or faint of heart. Barbara was sharp and efficient. Practical and poised. She was everything I needed in a teacher.

“ Yeah, yeah, yeah. See how you feel about me after our first training session. Bye, Jason… And good on you for getting back up. I thought about what I said to you the last time we talked. I was wrong to tell you that you were being childish. If taking this time away from home was good for your mental health, who am I to tell you—?”

“Barbara, I am a kid. I never said I wasn’t. I was pissed off and closed in, and I reacted. I was in a dark place, and I’d be lying if I said I wanted to go home now… I know it’s what I have to do. I’m gonna be mature about it, for Tim’s sake,” I replied, “I’ve gotta finish packing… But, um—. Thank you, Barbara.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Boy Wonder. See you Wednesday,” Barbara teased. She hung up, and I shook Tim awake.

He pushed my face away and laughed. “ Uggghhh. Jason, what are you doing?” Tim asked.

“She’s gonna train me. Wednesday through Friday, so we’ll condition Saturday through Monday,” I replied. Tim grinned.

“And on Tuesday ?” Tim half-joked.

“Warlocks and Warriors,” I replied, “And—. Oh, Ives wants to come over tonight. I gave him Bruce’s address and said he could stay the night.”

“Ives wanted to hang out? Does he—?”

I nodded. “Ives knows, but I asked him not to mention it… Unless…” I trailed off. Tim shook his head. “Then, he won’t…” I tied labels to Tim’s chargers and tucked them into his suitcase.

We went to the manor at sunset because I knew Bruce wouldn’t be there. Alfred seemed happy to see us again. Ives showed up an hour after we got there, and Alfred served dinner. “Hey, guys… Do you wanna do another campaign here this weekend?” I asked.

Tim’s eyes widened. “You want to?” Tim questioned. I nodded.

“That’d be sick,” Ives replied.

“Cool. Tell the guys Tuesday we’ll hang out here,” I replied. Ives glanced at Tim and looked at his plate when he saw me looking. Tim was oblivious to everything going on in his life because of everything.

“Jason should DM this one,” Tim suggested. I choked. “Come on. You can do it. I see how deep you get into character. And you’re the only person willing to indulge Hudson. Besides, I think the guys are still mad at me for what happened in Ravenloft.”

“That was messed up. I can’t believe you killed Ives first and swapped him out with a Doppelganger. That was sick. And Ives… I’m shocked you let him go through with that,” I replied.

Tim smiled. I reached for my bed to pull myself up, but I felt a shockwave shoot down my back into my legs, and I let go of the mattress. “Jason?” Tim asked.

“I’m okay… But like—. Are you guys sure you want me to DM?” I questioned.

“Yeah, definitely,” Ives replied, “You’ve gotta try it at least once. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again, but you should give it a chance. You might be good.”

"In the living forest lands of Malatra, all seems quiet. Suspiciously so. A warm breeze blows, rustling through the canopies overhead. Topiaries of smiling children surround a small fire. It is the only possible sign of life for several miles. A song breaks through the near-silent forest. It starts low and guttural, like a collective groan, and then the ethereal choral collections of synchronized sobs. It is a song of mourning. A once-distant sound, now building as if it is approaching. The forest's dirt walkways slowly disappear under shrubs and bushes, and it seems like a trick to the eye at first, but no. You see it now. The bushes have feet where roots should be, and finally, a male voice breaks through the grieving chorus," I cleared my throat. "State your business," I bellowed. "He steps forward. A bamboo elf. His hair is a warm brown with the same red undertones of autumn leaves. He keeps his hair in wide and intricate waves and curls. His skin is an olivine green, and his eyes dark brown and ancient, study you. You all recognize this bamboo elf immediately, but before we get into that… you should introduce yourselves." A big, goofy grin spread across Tim's face. Silence fell over my room as I waited for someone to speak.

"You fucking killed it," Hudson mumbled in shock. I covered my smile. "Clay Everlake, earth genasi monk here. I'm stone grey, with bright green hair made of leaves, with the front pulled into a warrior's bun—."

"Man bun penalty!" everyone shouted.

"Is not! Anyway ... It's a warrior's bun, and the rest of my hair hangs leafy down my shoulders. I'm fairly young, rough and tumble, and trouble seems to follow me wherever I go," Hudson answered.

I gestured to Ives. "Eldrid Deepwood, here. I'm a firbolg druid... I uh—. I have bluish-green skin and dark eyes. My hair is whiteish-grey, luscious, and thick, almost mane-like. My ears are floppy... And uh—. And despite my advanced age, I'm a timid sort of fella," Ives stammered in an Irish accent.

I nodded and pointed to Hudman. "Fettar Keephorn. Dwarven rogue, dark beard, dark brown eyes. My loyalties lie with Clay Everlake... Unfortunately," Hudman muttered in a dry voice. We all laughed. "I'm not much for words."

And Tim. I looked forward to Tim's character because we'd been pretty hush-hush about our plans all week, which meant we had nothing to discuss outside of training. "Posy Moonfall, gnome cleric here. I've got blond shoulder-length hair and grey eyes hidden behind foggy glasses. Well, they're usually quite—. I'm not used to being in the presence of a man of Mr. Deepwood's stature. I'm clumsy, but my intuitive nature makes up for my shortcomings... At least, I think—. Oh gosh. Am I rambling?" Tim replied in a woman's voice. He was surprisingly good at it. I almost forgot my place.

I cleared my throat before continuing. "Clay Everlake, your connection to this bamboo elf is deeply personal. Isn't it?" I asked, nodding at him. I liked Hudson. He always made me laugh and was my favorite of Tim's friends. He also tried to make me feel better about my scars by showing me the dent in his forehead. It wasn't the same, but he genuinely thought it was.

"He raised me. When my family was slaughtered on the outskirts of Malatra, he took me in and raised me. He's a father to me," Hudson answered. Hudson and I locked eyes, and I smiled down at my notes. "I didn't expect to see him under such grim circumstances."

"And Fettar?" I questioned.

"The elf and I… used to date,” Hudman replied. We all laughed.

“Fettar and Theren Everlake dated? You guys were—.”

“A couple. Yep,” Hudman doubled down.

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thegreatwicked · 6 months

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Unbreakable Bonds - Chapter Eight

Unbreakable Bonds

A novella in the ‘How it Should Have Ended’ Universe.

TheGreatWicked

Summary: In a galaxy where Anakin Skywalker successfully resisted the pull of darkness, fulfilling his destiny as the Chosen One to bring balance to the Force, the Jedi Temple is abuzz with discussions about the traditionally forbidden nature of attachments. As Anakin assumes the role of a Jedi Master, his decision to ensure Palpatine's arrest rather than execution sets the tone for a new era.

On the way to an impromptu council meeting, where Anakin now holds a seat as a respected master, Obi-Wan Kenobi experiences an unusual sensation. A mysterious connection tugs at him when he encounters a young boy patiently waiting outside the council chambers. Unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, the spotlight is about to shift from Anakin to himself.

As the secrets of Obi-Wan's past unravel, the Jedi Council finds itself thrust into action much sooner than anticipated. The delicate balance of the Force, once maintained by Anakin's choices, now hinges on the unforeseen revelations from Obi-Wan's history. The galaxy is on the brink of change, and the consequences of long-held secrets may reshape the destiny of the Jedi and the Force itself.

Pairing: Obi-wan/OFC (Cressida Vox)

Rating: Explicit, depictions of violence and sexual encounters between consenting adults.

Chapter Eight

Obi-Wan reminded himself (more than once) that both he and Solan were on a journey of learning and growth, and it would require patience, especially on his part, to navigate this new and complex father-son relationship. Solan's demeanor was, initially, quite different from what he had experienced before, and he had to bite his tongue when he wanted to remind Solan that he wasn’t entitled to learn what he wanted, when he wanted simply because he wanted to. Solan was the student and Obi-wan, the teacher.

Obi-Wan had to adapt to his new role as both a father and an instructor, and Solan needed to learn the ways of the Jedi. Balancing their needs was going to be a complex task, one they would need to discover together.

He wanted to gauge Solan's ability to conjure a successful force shield. It would be a test of both Solan's defensive capabilities and his emotional control, both vital aspects that any youngling would learn. As they stood in a serene chamber within the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan began to explain the exercise to his son.

"Solan," Obi-Wan began, "I want you to create a strong force shield, as strong as you can manage. Focus on creating an impenetrable barrier, one that protects your innermost thoughts and emotions. And I will attempt to find a way past it."

Solan emitted a sigh, as if reluctantly accepting a lesson that failed to spark his enthusiasm. He settled into a cross-legged position, closed his eyes, and directed his focus inward. A subtle shift occurred in the air around him as Solan connected with the Force, sensing its dynamic energy. With deliberate concentration, he initiated the creation of a formidable shield to envelop his mind. Solan exhibited a distinctive and remarkable proficiency in force shielding, showcasing a talent that surpassed the usual expectations for someone of his age.

Obi-Wan was genuinely impressed. Solan's force shielding was not just a simple defense; it appeared to flow with an innate understanding that belied his youth. As Solan created the shield, he seemed to slip into a calm and serene state, showing a renewed engagement in the exercise.

"Good, Solan," Obi-Wan encouraged as he paced closer, finding it surprising how much he enjoyed praising Solan, seeing so much of his younger self in his son. "Now, I want you to think of something. Anything at all. It can be a memory, a thought, or a secret. Focus on your shield, and use it to protect your thoughts as if your life depended on it, but don't be afraid. Keep your attention on maintaining your shield."

Solan nodded, his focus now fully on the shield he had erected. Obi-Wan took a seat in front of Solan a few feet away mimicking his sons’ posture, extending his hand and began to reach out with the Force, searching for any gaps or weaknesses in Solan's defense. It was surprisingly no easy task; Solan's formidable shield presented a considerable challenge, one that brought a small smile to Obi-wan's face.

Several quiet minutes passed, with Solan maintaining his focus and Obi-Wan persistently probing for a means to break through. Solan's shield held strong, but like all defenses, it wasn't flawless.

Within the guarded walls of Solan's mind, his subconscious shifted into a vibrant dreamscape, bathed in a warm glow that matched the golden hue of his mother's tales. The memory he chose to focus on was a pivotal one, a moment when the fabric of his reality seemed to shimmer with the promise of adventure.

He found himself sitting on the bench within the warm halls of the Jedi Temple, the day he met Obi-wan. A moment that bridged the gap between the fantastical narratives spun by his mother and the tangible reality of meeting a living legend.

As the memory unfolded like a well-practiced holo-drama, the figure of Obi-Wan Kenobi materialized before Solan as he swung his legs on the bench. Obi-Wan, the hero General of the Clone Wars, stood before him – a beacon of Jedi wisdom and courage. Solan, in the innocence of youth, couldn't contain the wide-eyed awe that painted his face, and even in the exercise hips lips curled up into an almost imperceptible smile.

The memory was a kaleidoscope of vibrant emotions – admiration like a melody playing in the background, awe as a visual spectacle that unfolded with each step Obi-Wan took. Solan's heart beat in sync with the excitement of that moment, the thrill of meeting someone he had only heard tales of until that day.

And as Solan immersed himself in this cherished recollection, the exercise began to weave its magic, fostering a connection between the past and the present, between the hero of his childhood tales and the father who stood by his side.

It was as if the young boy had gathered a torrent of hyper-concentration around himself, using his focus to cover up his emotions. It was a different kind of vulnerability, one that Obi-wan hadn’t expected, but one that he knew he could overcome. Solan was trying to block out his emotions entirely.

A smile adorned Obi-Wan's face as he acknowledged the genuine emotions. Reflecting on how he reached out through the Force to touch the shield, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of remorse at how effortlessly it shattered. At that moment, the shield faltered with the slightest preassure, allowing Obi-Wan a glimpse into his son's unguarded memory. Waves of excitement, happiness, and awe from the encounter with his hero washed over Obi-Wan, deepening the connection between them.

As Solan's force shield collapsed like fragile glass, his shock was palpable. The young boy sat there, staring at the ground with an expression of surprise etched on his face.

However, much to his surprise, Obi-wan greeted him with a smile and a nod of approval, despite his failure. "Solan," he said softly. "You did well."

Obi-Wan could sense the depth of Solan's confusion. He realized that this test had pushed Solan in a way he had never experienced before, and by Solan’s understanding he probably failed, but Obi-wan’s wisdom shone through as even in failure there is knowledge to be gained. He disliked seeing the look of disappointment in Solan’s eyes, the exercise served a valuable purpose. Obi-Wan wanted to ensure that Solan understood what had transpired and why.

"Do you understand what just happened, Solan?"

Solan shook his head, a frustrated grimace on his face, the hallmark look of a frustrated child who hadn’t expected to fail.

"Solan, your force shield demonstrated remarkable strength; your concentration on safeguarding that memory was a commendable instinct. Nevertheless, your emphasis was on suppressing all your emotions rather than harnessing them as a source of assistance. Emotions possess great potency, yet they can become a detriment if we let them dictate our actions or if we disregard them entirely."

With an irritated huff, Solan folded his arms across his chest, a display of youthful frustration. He didn't like this lesson, and it was evident on his face. His eyes remained averted, avoiding Obi-Wan's gaze until instructed otherwise.

Obi-Wan decided to provide a more detailed explanation to his son. "Solan, by supressing your emotions entirely you disconnected yourself from your shield," he explained. "You cannot force the Force; it doesn't belong to you. Instead, you need to find the balance between your emotions. The Force is meant to be used in harmony with your emotions."

Solan stayed quiet, grappling with Obi-Wan's words, a blend of confusion and lingering distress evident on his face. Obi-Wan empathized with his son, recognizing the weight of what must have felt like an utter failure. He allowed Solan a moment and space to collect himself, understanding the need for the boy to process this newfound awareness.

“Do you understand?”

“Not really.”

"Solan, let's try again. This time, I want you to think of something with a powerful emotion. But, instead of suppressing the emotion attached to the memory, imagine it passing through you like you're standing in the current of a river, and the river simply flows around you. You are as steadfast and immovable as an ancient stone." Obi-Wan maintained a watchful eye on Solan, recognizing the resilience it took for his young son to gather himself and face the exercise once more, as they prepared to repeat the shielding exercise.

Solan seemed surprised but intrigued by this approach. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded slowly and took a deep breath. He shook out his hands and adjusted his posture, sitting up straight and breathing out a heavy and shaky breath, and he tried again.

This time, when he created his force shield, it felt weaker to him. He spent a few minutes concentrating to make it stronger. Once he felt it was stable, he decided on a memory with a strong emotional attachment to practice on.

Obi-Wan observed Solan's deep focus and felt the young boy's force shield rising up again, slower this time, as if he were trying to build it more deliberately. It was a promising sign that Solan was taking the lesson to heart.

When Solan nodded his readiness, Obi-Wan concentrated his efforts and he delved once again into the Force. This time, he didn't feel the overwhelming hyperactivity or the absence of emotion that had been present before. Instead, he sensed a different kind of sensation within Solan. He sensed a hazy source of emotional turmoil, a well of sadness that radiated from the memory Solan was trying to protect. Drawing on the swirling pool of sadness, Obi-Wan tapped into that vulnerability and gently pushed against it. He had instructed Solan to think of a memory with a powerful emotion attached but he hadn’t anticipated what he saw. It wasn’t a river and Solan wasn’t an immovable stone, it was a maelstrom of churning waters and Solan may as well have been a piece of driftwood, being tossed almost violently under the current of emotions he struggled to maintain control over.

Obi-Wan pushed gently against Solan's shield, seeking a way through, but this time, he decided to do more than just that. He called out Solan's name within his mind, his voice echoing gently. It was an unexpected intrusion, a father addressing his son in a moment of vulnerability. Solan was caught off guard, his focus shattered by the sound of his father's voice within his mind.

As the breakthrough unfolded, the floodgates of Solan's guarded memory opened wide for Obi-Wan. It was as if a hidden chamber of the young boy's mind had been unlocked, revealing a poignant recollection from Solan's earliest years—the first memory he could consciously recall. Despite the passage of time, the edges of the memory were clouded and fuzzy, bearing the mark of age, but within this haze, the emotions were crystal clear.

The scene played out like a poignant tableau from Solan's past. In the memory, he was a mere three years old, left in the care of a service droid as his mother embarked on a mission. The loneliness and vulnerability of the young child were palpable, his small form sitting alone, tears streaming down his face. The sadness and fear etched across his innocent features were heart-wrenching, unaware that Cressida would return to him, calling out for ‘mommy.’

As Cressida prepared to leave, a look of distress and heartache shadowed her face, mirroring the emotions that raged within Solan. The memory captured a moment frozen in time, Solan reaching out his tiny hand towards his departing mother, a silent plea for reassurance. The image of Cressida walking away, her figure becoming smaller through the eyes of the young child, held a weight of separation and sorrow.

Lightsaber in hand, Cressida turned to glance back at her son. In the midst of her own turmoil, Solan saw the glint of glassiness in her eyes. The pain of this shared moment was palpable, the glass partition between them acting as an insurmountable barrier. Obi-Wan observed Cressida's poignant gesture—placing her hand first to her lips and then on the cold surface that separated mother and son. And then, with the heavy finality of a closing door, Cressida left, and the memory dissolved into the mist of time.

Obi-Wan's heart ached as he touched upon Solan's deep emotions, seeing the memory as a powerless observer, unable to reach his son in his time of distress. It was this well of sadness that had ultimately allowed him to penetrate Solan's formidable force shield. As Obi-Wan gently withdrew from Solan's mind, he looked at his son with a mixture of concern and empathy, understanding the young boy's struggles with his emotions a little better. He hadn’t expected such sorrow.

Solan had attempted the exercise twice now and failed on both occasions. His young face reflected shock and defeat as he stood before Obi-Wan, his lips moving as if he were trying to find the right words but ultimately failing to speak.

His features contorted with distress and the sorrow of the memory he had been trying to shield, its raw sadness breaking through. His eyes were glassy, and his hands trembled, unaccustomed to this level of emotional exposure brought about by the exercise.

Acting on what he could only explain as instinct, Obi-Wan, was again, by Solan’s side with a hand on his shoulder to steady him. When he asked if Solan was alright, he just looked shaken and didn’t answer. He asked if he understood what had happened this time. Solan, his frustration mounting, shook his head. It was clear that his emotions were giving way to sadness now rather than annoyance.

"Solan, initially, you suppressed your emotions, severing your connection with the Force. This time, you allowed them to overwhelm you, like a tumultuous river in full force," he clarified. Solan's expression reflected bewilderment as he grappled with the idea. He hadn't yet realized that neither the extreme of complete emotional detachment nor letting emotions run rampant would assist him in this exercise. He was exerting considerable effort, perhaps too much, and needed to discover that delicate balance. Additionally, it didn't help that he was still shaken by the depth and power of the emotion associated with the memory he had chosen, he sniffled several times and rubbed at his eyes, trying to hide any evidence of his sadness.

"Look at me, Solan," Obi-Wan gently commanded.

Reluctantly, Solan met his father's gaze, his eyes filled with shame at his repeated failure. He was finding it challenging to strike that balance. He appeared to withdraw into himself, his shoulders slumped with a weight that seemed too heavy for a young boy to bear. It was just as Cressida had said.

Obi-Wan, determined to impart this crucial lesson, told Solan that he had one more opportunity to succeed. Now that he had experienced both extremes of the emotional spectrum, he could try to find the middle ground—the balance between the two. Balance was what would lead to success.

Obi-Wan resumed his seat across from Solan, a subtle shift in the distance between them that spoke volumes. Solan still didn't seem keen on trying again. He muttered that he didn't want to do it once more, complaining that it was too hard. But Obi-Wan wasn't about to let his son give up so easily.

The training room seemed to hold a hushed anticipation, carrying the echoes of the emotionally charged moments they had just shared. Solan, still recovering from the emotional release, stifled a lingering sniffle, his attempts to compose himself evident in the way he straightened his posture.

In a tone edged with firmness, Obi-Wan addressed Solan not as a father but as a master, posing a question:

"Who led you to believe this journey would be without difficulty? You gave your word to Master Windu that you would make an effort. Are you prepared to abandon the task at the first setback, especially when it's merely a training exercise? There will be instances where much more will hinge on your capacity to surmount challenges—perhaps even your own life or another's. If you falter in your commitment after a failure, your path to becoming a Jedi may be insurmountable."

Solan's mouth dropped open, and he stared at his father. His shoulders slumped, and he shrunk into himself, giving a reluctant nod. Obi-Wan, unyielding in his determination to help Solan grow, encouraged him to try the exercise once more. It was a lesson in perseverance and balance, and one that would help shape the young boys’ journey.

Obi-Wan observed Solan's progress with a mix of patience and encouragement. As they stood in the tranquil training chamber, he could sense the boy's determination to master the art of maintaining a force shield. Solan had initially struggled, but his determination was admirable.

"Try one more time, Solan," Obi-Wan gently encouraged. His words were meant to convey a sense of "don't worry; we can always try again later." However, Solan interpreted them differently. He perceived it as an ultimatum, a challenge to prove himself right then and there.

The increasing pressure bore down on Solan, and his palms became clammy. He paused briefly, feeling the weight of expectations on his young shoulders. Suddenly, in a burst of nervous energy, he leaped up, bouncing on his toes, shrugging his shoulders, and shaking out his anxiety like a playful child. After letting out his pent-up energy, he confidently marched back and resumed his seat, his expression a mix of frustration, determination, and sheer stubbornness.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but be amused. He had seen Anakin, his former padawan, do many things, but never had he witnessed such a display of childlike animation and anxiety. For a moment, it was a welcome sight, as it reminded Obi-Wan of the age and innocence that Solan carried.

After a few seconds, Solan calmed himself and turned back, determination etched on his features. He sat down and breathed deeply, eyes closed, attempting to find the delicate balance between emotions and control that the exercise required.

Solan sat in silence for a few minutes. The air around him trembled slightly, mirroring the unsteady rhythm of a hesitant breath. He struggled to visualize the river once more and to allow his emotions to flow through him, not controlling him but guiding him.

Obi-Wan's words about protecting others had taken on a profound resonance, revealing a truth that had already woven itself into the fabric of his past.

Solan could do this. He focused on visualizing the river in his mind, feeling its current without allowing it to drown him or push him down. The emotions from the memory surged through him, but they didn't control him. He was determined, knowing that one day he might have to protect others, just as he had protected his mother.

His mind was awash with that determination, and it took him several long minutes to reconstruct his force shield. It built slower than before, and every so often, it crumbled slightly under the weight of the pressure he was putting on himself. But he continued to will it back, never forcing it.

Memories of the fear he felt coursed over him as the shield neared its completion. He stood in the raging torrent of his emotions, just like he had as a young boy when he believed only he could protect his mother. It was challenging, and his mind became cluttered with many voices, his own, his mother's, and Obi-Wan's.

Obi-Wan watched with both concern and admiration as Solan wrestled with his emotions. He observed the storm within his son as he struggled to find that delicate balance. The gentle river Obi-Wan had described seemed more like a raging torrent, and he could see Solan losing his footing, on the verge of being overwhelmed.

In this memory, Solan saw himself as a four-year-old, a pint-sized guardian in the making. His mother, Cressida, returned home from a mission, battered and injured. The little boy's heart raced as he witnessed her weakened state, blood staining her clothes, and her steps faltering. Solan, driven by a sense of responsibility beyond his tender age, reached out to help her, tugging at her arm with small, determined hands.

The portrait of maternal strength that was Cressida, struggled to stand, her body betraying the toll of her recent ordeal, clinging to life out of what he knew to be sheer stubbornness. In Solan's memory, he could feel the fear pulsating through his veins, an unspoken understanding that he had to do something to help his mother. The word 'bacta' echoed in his mind, a mantra he repeated with all the conviction a four-year-old could muster.

The scene played out as if in slow motion: Solan guiding his mother towards the bacta tank, uttering words of encouragement like a mantra of hope. "Come on, Mama," he urged, his voice a tiny beacon of support. "Almost there," he assured her, his small hand reaching out as if trying to bear the weight of her injuries. "It’s ok," he declared, his determination turning a mundane task into a sacred duty.

In his own innocence, Solan clutched a blaster, feeling an unspoken responsibility to protect his mother. The imagery was both heartwarming and heart-wrenching – a child shouldering a burden far beyond his years out of love. The memory revealed a snapshot of Solan's early understanding of what it meant to be a guardian, a sentiment he would carry with him into adulthood.

But as the memory unfolded, a poignant realization washed over him. The pride he once felt was soon replaced by the vulnerability of a child who had underestimated the severity of his mother's injuries. When Cressida emerged from the bacta tank earlier than expected, Solan's world crumbled. He begged her to return to the healing waters, his tears flowing as an outpouring of worry and love.

The memory ended with Solan, still a child in his mother's arms, the weight of responsibility momentarily lifted. Yet, the memory left an indelible mark on his young heart, planting the seeds of understanding that love and protection sometimes come at a cost.

Obi-Wan observed with a mix of concern and admiration as Solan grappled with his emotions. The storm raging within his son's heart seemed more like a tumultuous torrent than the gentle river Obi-Wan had envisioned. Solan appeared on the brink of being overwhelmed, struggling to find that delicate balance. Throughout the ordeal, Solan's lips moved, uttering a repetitive mantra that carried both determination and a poignant vulnerability, "I can do it, I can do it."

Obi-Wan didn't attempt to push past Solan's struggling shield. Instead, he merely spoke Solan's name gently, and the force shield shattered into oblivion. The memory rushed out with such force that it knocked the breath from Obi-Wan's chest, and he knew that they had taken an important step forward in Solan's training.

In the training chamber, a somber silence prevailed, broken only by the desperate gasps for breath. Etched with despair and frustration, his youthful visage struggled to grasp the intricacies of the recent ordeal. The focus had shifted from the mere physical exercise to the profound emotional scars that Solan carried from the tumultuous first decade of his life.

Obi-Wan, was in an instant in front of Solan. He held onto his son, sensing that Solan was not just physically unsteady but also emotionally overwhelmed. It was as if Solan had been caught in a rushing river's current, and now he stood shivering and taking in deep, ragged breaths as though he had nearly drowned.

Obi-Wan meant to steady Solan until the boy could regain his balance and find his footing under his own willpower. But he was taken aback when Solan threw himself at his father, small arms wrapping tightly around Obi-Wan's neck. Solan's body quivered under the weight of his failures, and Obi-Wan found himself momentarily frozen, unsure of how to react.

He was clutching onto Obi-Wan for dear life.

Obi-Wan remained still, feeling the weight of Solan's trembling form in his arms. The young boy struggled to regulate himself after the intensity of the exercise, and Obi-Wan called Solan's name gently, repeatedly, like a lifeline. He had experienced similar intense moments with Anakin, but Anakin had never hugged him the way Solan did, and he certainly didn’t have the relationship with Anakin that he shared with Solan. Obi-Wan had no guidebook for this unfamiliar territory.

Solan clung tightly, his grip unyielding, yet Obi-Wan persisted in calling out to him. His voice acted as a calming anchor amid the internal tumult Solan grappled with. Obi-Wan's words were a reassurance about the present, assuring Solan that everything was fine, and that he was right there by his side. In his soothing tone, Obi-Wan reminded Solan that Cressida was safe, emphasizing how he had protected her. It was as if Solan remained ensnared in the memory of the earlier exercise, and Obi-Wan was resolute in his determination to pull him back to the present moment. The memory that had seized Solan's consciousness was a poignant one, and Obi-Wan experienced a profound pang of sorrow witnessing a fragment of his son's childhood burdened by fears and hardships not intended for him to bear.

After a long and agonizing minute, it worked. Solan gradually loosened his hold on Obi-Wan, though his eyes were still wide, full of turmoil. Obi-Wan shifted his hands to rest on Solan's shoulders, his voice gentle and reassuring. "You did well, Solan," he said, despite the apparent failure of the exercise.

Solan's voice quivered as he responded, questioning how he could have done well when he couldn't do it at all. Obi-Wan regarded the young boy with a profound wisdom that stretched far beyond his years. "Failure is a part of life," he said softly, his eyes filled with understanding. "It is how we learn. Without failure, victory would be meaningless. You will get there, Solan, in time, and I will help you. I promise you."

~~~

Following the shielding exercise and the unsettling memories Obi-Wan had witnessed, he considered meditation a natural progression for the day's lesson. However, his immediate concern was Solan's well-being. While he had always been aware of Solan's unique and perilous upbringing, the vivid images and memories he had glimpsed during the exercise had been emotionally distressing. Taking a walk through the temple grounds, father and son engaged in a conversation where Solan shared what he could remember from the two dark memories. Though challenging, this presented Obi-Wan with a unique opportunity to deepen his training with Solan.

The absence of Cressida, though notable, allowed for a more personal connection between father and son. Transitioning from the training room to a quieter space within the temple, Obi-Wan took a moment to contemplate the events of the day.

"Mastering the art of shielding is crucial, Solan, but equally vital is the cultivation of meditation. It forms the bedrock of a Jedi's connection to the Force," Obi-Wan began, his tone gentle yet unwavering.

They found themselves in a tranquil chamber, enveloped by the soothing hum of the temple. Obi-Wan continued, "Meditation goes beyond mere stillness and mental quietude. It is a practice that tunes you into the Force, heightening your awareness of its currents and the energies that course through every living being."

"Like the river you mentioned during the shielding exercise?" Solan inquired, drawing connections between the two practices on his own.

"Exactly! You've grasped it perfectly, like the river," Obi-Wan affirmed. Solan absorbed his father's wisdom, prompting Obi-Wan to gesture for them to sit in a cross-legged position, mirroring the traditional posture of meditation.

"So, they're intertwined, right? Meditation and shielding can strengthen each other?" Solan sought clarification, piecing together the components.

"Yes, that's precisely right. The two are connected." Obi-Wan's grin widened, and he nodded, commending his son, "The Force is always there, Solan, like an invisible thread connecting all living things. Meditation allows us to feel its presence, to understand its will. Close your eyes, focus on your breath, and let your mind become like a calm lake. Observe the ripples, but don't let them disturb the stillness within."

Solan followed his father's instructions, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Obi-Wan guided him through the process, encouraging him to let go of external distractions and turn his attention inward.

"As you meditate, you'll begin to sense the Force around you. It will reveal insights, guide your actions, and grant you a profound understanding of the world. Patience is key, Solan. The Force moves in its own time, and as Jedi, we must learn to trust in its wisdom."

A serene quiet settled over the room as father and son immersed themselves in the meditative practice. Through these shared moments, Obi-Wan aspired to convey not only the techniques of a Jedi but the very essence of the Jedi path – a journey that went beyond lightsabers and combat, delving into the profound connection with the Force that meditation could unveil. However, the tranquility was intermittently disrupted by the unmistakable growls emanating from a small, empty stomach. Each occurrence prompted hearty chuckles from Obi-Wan. When it happened for the third time, he had to insist that they make their way to the refectory for a belated lunch.

"I hadn't realized how time had slipped away. Come, Solan, let's get something to eat. I'm sure your mother won't be pleased with me if I send you back to her on an empty stomach."

~~~

As the afternoon sun bathed the Jedi Temple in warm hues, they sat in the Jedi refectory, the atmosphere between Obi-Wan and Solan was a blend of contentment and familial warmth. The training had been intense, yet fulfilling, and now they found themselves enjoying a well-deserved meal together upon realizing just how much of the day had slipped away. Obi-Wan leisurely sipped his tea, savoring the moment and appreciating the simple pleasure of baked dru'un slices with fish sauce, while Solan attacked his waffles with the voracious appetite befitting a ten-year-old boy, the occasional muffled words escaping from his mouth as he spoke between bites. His speed and urgency in consuming his food were noticeable, prompting a chuckle from Obi-Wan. The contrast in their eating styles was comical, the measured and deliberate pace of the Jedi Master versus the hurried and eager appetite of his son.

Observing Solan's rapid approach to meals, Obi-Wan couldn't help but ponder the source of this apparent urgency. He mentally noted the need to discuss it with Cressida later, suspecting there might be more to Solan's eating habits than initially met the eye.

Amidst the clatter of utensils and the hum of conversations in the refectory, Solan's eagerness to absorb information from earlier training sessions spilled over into a barrage of questions. Obi-Wan, wearing a patient smile, found himself navigating through the inquiries, gently reminding Solan to take it one question at a time.

"One query at a time, Solan. I'm not going anywhere," Obi-Wan teased, his words carrying the weight of a deeper understanding of Solan's past and the gaps in his training. "And slow down, chew your food."

At one point, Obi-Wan simply stared at his son, as though he were watching a holodrama. He had never seen anyone devour two plates of waffles as quickly as Solan did, not even Anakin, who had known a life of slavery and sparse meals. Eager to address the issue, Obi-Wan reached forth and stopped Solan's hand, preventing a forkful of food from reaching his mouth.

"Solan, could you please slow down a bit?" Obi-Wan voiced his concern, and Solan, seemingly aware of it, adjusted his pace, taking the time to chew his food slowly. Obi-Wan attempted to continue, "Solan,--"

"I don't like foodstuffs," Solan cut in unexpectedly. His response was swift, almost defensive, as if anticipating trouble. "They don't taste very good. And I hate how they're cold a lot of the time." A silence settled over them for a few minutes all that could be heard was the ambient noise of the refectory.

"Well, on that point, we agree. There's nothing quite like a hot meal, is there?" Obi-Wan sensed he had stumbled onto a sensitive topic for his son. "Did you eat them often?"

Solan nodded, "Mom tried to make sure I had real cooked food, but a lot of the time, foodstuffs were all we had. This tastes way better." Obi-Wan still had more questions, but he was uncertain about how to approach them. "I never went hungry, though. But Mom did sometimes so I wouldn't have to." Once again, Solan seemed to understand what Obi-Wan wanted to know, as if he had plucked the question from his mind.

Solan wore a somber expression, staring at his waffles as if burdened by guilt. "Well, we mustn't waste them; finish your food." There would be another time to address this particularly sensitive issue, but not now, especially after how Obi-Wan had challenged Solan today. "I liked waffles quite a bit too when I was a boy."

Upon hearing his father share this similarity, Solan perked up a bit and smiled, seemingly pleased to have something in common with his father.

Observing Obi-Wan's cup of tea, Solan looked thoughtful, as if a question lingered in his mind. "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, Solan replied, "Nothing. I was just wondering, did you and Mom ever drink tea together?" Obi-Wan was taken aback, especially since he knew for a fact that Cressida didn't like tea; she much preferred caf.

"No, your mother has never liked tea as long as I've known her. Why do you ask?"

"I know she doesn’t like tea, but she always drank it during when we were off-world. Every day, I watched her make Sapir Tea. Then I started making it for her when she came back after being away. She always looked kinda sad when she drank it, and I never knew why. It didn't feel right to ask, so I wondered if the two of you used to drink tea together or something. Otherwise, why would she drink something she didn’t like?"

Why indeed? Solan's observations were unexpectedly perceptive for someone so young, revealing more of his close connection with his mother. Obi-Wan had a theory, but perhaps he'd test it later.

"Maybe it reminded her of home," he suggested, reaching for a sip but hesitating. "Would you like to try it?"

Accepting the cup from his father, Solan smiled when their fingers brushed. He cautiously sniffed the cup, made a skeptical face, took a slow sip, and then grimaced, sticking his tongue out.

"No wonder Mom doesn't like tea; that's gross."

Obi-Wan's laughter echoed through the room as he reclaimed the cup, saying, "It can be an acquired taste, I suppose." Solan, determined to rid himself of the bitter aftertaste, continued sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated manner.

As the two continued their banter, their attention was suddenly diverted by the approach of a familiar voice. Obi-Wan and Solan turned to see Cressida striding towards them, a playful amusement in her eyes.

"Well, I can see you two have had a very productive day," she remarked, taking a seat next to Obi-Wan. “I leave you two for training and I come back to waffles…”

Obi-Wan, feeling slightly caught, muttered, "His second helping..."

"Only his second? He'll eat five if you let him," Cressida replied, relishing the shock on Obi-Wan's face.

"Five!?" he exclaimed incredulously.

"Growing boys, you know?" Cressida teased, savoring Obi-Wan's expression. She accepted the forkful of waffle that Solan offered her with a smile. "How are they?" Solan nodded happily, and she took a thoughtful bite. "Tastes like waffles," she mused with a smile.

"Better than foodstuffs," Solan added eagerly. Cressida nodded in agreement, and it seemed the small family was in unanimous accord on that matter. Solan turned to his mother and asked, "Are you going to eat something, Mom?"

Cressida winked and nodded, "I think so." She rose once more and strolled away. Once she was out of earshot, Solan's smile faded, and he looked as though he had just tasted the bitter tea all over again.

Obi-Wan finished chewing his mouthful of dru’un, setting the utensils down as he observed Cressida interacting with the surroundings in the bustling dining area of the Jedi Temple. Solan's keen perception had drawn his attention to subtle details that Obi-Wan had overlooked. The father-son duo had their eyes trained on Cressida, silently communicating through shared concern.

“Somethings wrong.”

"What do you mean?" Obi-Wan asked, glancing at Solan as he voiced his unease. “She seems fine to me.”

Solan shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "I know her tells."

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, intrigued by Solan's assessment of his mother. "Tell me."

"She's shifting her weight to her left foot when she stops walking but she's right-handed and usually places her weight on her right foot, it’s like she's trying to be ready to act or strike," Solan explained. Obi-Wan followed his gaze and saw Cressida unconsciously favoring her left foot, a subtle sign of her sentinel training. As Solan continued his perceptive analysis of Cressida's behavior, Obi-Wan couldn't help but marvel at his son's keen observation skills. It was clear that Solan had inherited not only his mother's Force sensitivity but also her knack for reading people. Obi-Wan considered it a valuable trait, one that would serve Solan well in his future as a Jedi.

Solan continued with his astute observations. "She also has these little things she does, like she's trying to be guarded or defensive. She rubs her arms like she's cold or trying to comfort herself, closing herself off. And look how she's clenching her fists; I bet she's clenching her jaw too. Even though there are people nearby, she's keeping a bubble around herself, like she's trying to self-isolate." Obi-Wan focused on her, now noticing the nuances that Solan had pointed out, each movement spoke volumes about Cressida's emotional state. It was a side of her that Obi-Wan rarely witnessed, and it concerned him.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but be impressed. Solan's insight into Cressida's demeanor was uncanny. "I remember she used to tap the toes on her right foot whenever she was nervous as a Padawan," Obi-Wan remarked, a touch of nostalgia in his voice as he observed Cressida.

Solan nodded in agreement. "She still does that too, not so much in public, though. It's more of a behind-closed-doors thing. She doesn't want anyone to think she's afraid." The idea that she still carried these habits, even in private, hinted at the depth of her experiences and the challenges she had faced throughout her life.

As if on cue, they both watched Cressida's right foot anxiously tap on her toe, a telltale sign of her inner turmoil.

"I think she got some not-so-good news," Solan said, wearing a sad expression. "Means she'll be going somewhere soon.” Solan's statement hung in the air, a mysterious proclamation that left Obi-wan speechless. At times he was a paradoxical blend of childlike exuberance and sage-like insight, and he had just dropped a cryptic statement that lingered in the air like an unspoken riddle. Obi-Wan, still getting accustomed to the unpredictable nature of his son, couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity and concern.

"How can you possibly know that?" Obi-Wan questioned, his gaze searching Solan's face for any clues. Solan, however, remained stoic, as if holding a secret that transcended mere words.

"Just do," Solan replied cryptically. Obi-Wan's mind raced with various possibilities. Was Cressida planning something? Was she facing a threat? The Jedi Master wrestled with the urge to probe deeper, to uncover the source of Solan's intuition.

As thoughts whirled through Obi-Wan's mind, he hesitated. Would pressing Solan for more information breach the trust he sought to build with his son? Would Cressida share her concerns with him if he asked? The haunting memory of her cautionary words echoed in his mind: "Two may keep a secret if one is dead."

“Well, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want you to dwell on this,” Obi-Wan finally said, opting for reassurance over interrogation. Solan nodded in agreement, and a sense of relief washed over Obi-Wan. "Let's not give her anything to worry about," he added, hoping to steer the conversation toward lighter matters.

Solan nodded again, diverting his attention to the plate of waffles before him. Obi-Wan seized the opportunity to inject a bit of levity into the moment. "You know, when I was a padawan, if I'd wasted food, I'd be in the kitchens long after training, washing dishes." Solan's eyes widened briefly, the realization of potential consequences sinking in. Without further ado, he resumed devouring his waffles, seemingly content to avoid extra chores at the moment. The weight of the unspoken lingered in the air, leaving Obi-Wan to wonder about the mysteries surrounding his family and the enigmatic bond between them.

"You're going to get a stomachache if you keep eating like that or—" Cressida's voice was cut off by Solan's immediate onset of hiccups, confirming her prediction. She shook her head with a knowing smile, her voice cut through the hiccuping, adding a touch of humor to the situation. "Yes, or that too." She gestured to his water and gave him some rather unconventional advice. "Drink, hold your breath, and swallow three times."

Obi-Wan watched with a curious and slightly skeptical expression as Solan followed his mother's instructions. To his surprise, the hiccups vanished. "Better?" Cressida inquired, and Solan nodded before returning to his waffles.

Curiosity piqued, Solan inquired about the steaming bowl in front of Cressida. "What's that?"

"Nuna Noodle Soup. Try it?” Solan looked skeptical and shook his head a bit hesitantly.

Obi-Wan interjected with a playful comment, recalling Solan's previous encounter with tea. "He might be less than inclined; he tried my tea. I don’t think he approved."

“Coward.” She playfully scolded her son who in turn stuck out his tongue, Obi-wan felt a little surge of nostalgia, recalling the time she’d called him a coward and the memory it led to.The steam rose enticingly, and Cressida took a deep, appreciative breath before taking a bite. The warmth of the soup seemed to have a comforting effect on her. It was a moment of vulnerability, a glimpse of Cressida beyond the stoic shadow sentinel. "Had dreams about this," she muttered, savoring the taste, clearly feeling the same as Solan had about the edibility of foodstuffs. Obi-wan wondered how long it had been since she had a comforting meal.

The trio continued their meal, unaware of the inquisitive stares directed their way in the refectory. Jedi Masters, knights, padawans, and younglings observed with curiosity, concern, and perhaps even a touch of envy. It was an uncommon scene – two Jedi parents and their son sharing a meal, embodying the semblance of a regular family. The sight hinted at the potential shift and change they might bring.

Nine

~~~

This one felt a little longer but I packed it full of dad Kenobi goodness, maybe a few tears too! Hope you guys liked it! Feel free to like, comment, reblog and don't forget your tags make my day! If you want to join the taglist all you have to do is let me know and give me a reblog if you can!

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