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chokemeanakin · 3 years

Note

idk if you do like song request sorta things, but could you do a fic based on the song "night bus" by gabrielle alpin? especially the "suddenly i know that i'm on my way home to you for the last time" part--maybe an angsty sort of thing where the reader and anakin's relationship gets discovered and she gets sent away or smth? idk i couldn't stop thinking ab it last night and i have no motivation to write it myself and i love your writing so maybe?? tysm!

Oh sis this was so much fun to write. Even though it is sad... idk i liked getting in the feels. Anyway I hope it meets your expectations. If it didn’t, well, pls write it yourself and tag me! I’d love to see what your vision was ❤️🤗

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

WC: 1.8k

Night Bus - Anakin x gn Reader angst

You swore this would never be you. You promised yourself it would last. If two people love each other, there should be no reason you couldn’t be together.

That’s childish thinking, you tugged your jacket tighter around you. Your boots dragged through the grey sludge of the sidewalk, remnants from a lazy downpour of wet snow a few hours before. Your mind whirled and stomach churned as the streetlights began blinking on one by one, the markets closing up for the night.

It should have been a peaceful thing, but you felt sick. With each step closer to your destination, you felt as though a current was dragging you back, the darkness closing in around you. You knew as soon as you reached him, it would be for the last time. Your fairytale would come to an end, and as you walked through the bitter streets of Coruscant on your way to the Jedi temple, you prepared yourself to say goodbye to your prince charming.

“It’s selfish, what you’re doing,” Master Windu had hissed at you. You were still reeling from his admittance that he knew about your and Anakin’s relationship. You had been so careful to keep it a secret, you had no idea how he found out.

“Obi-Wan told you,” your lips felt like rubber.

“He did not,” Mace leveled his gaze at you. “He knows, I’m sure of it. But he respects Anakin too much to give him away like that. A flaw on his part, which will be dealt with later.”

Your head was swimming. What did this mean for you? For Anakin? For the both of you together? Obviously you knew what was next, but your mind couldn’t wrap around it, couldn’t accept it.

“You need to let him go,” Mace declared, not a hint of mercy detected.

“I can’t.”

“Then he needs to let you go.”

“He won’t.”

“Then you will be the fall of the Jedi!” His sudden outburst made you flinch. Your heart beat fast, blood swishing in your ears. His body was still as a statue, but his eyes were wide and his chest was heaving with an anger that was barely under control. Master Windu was of the more… pessimistic Jedi, but you had never really seen him lose control so completely. Now, you could see he was overwhelmingly stressed. No, not stressed-- panicked.

“He needs me,” you replied shakily, unwilling to stand down. Anakin had made it clear over and over again that if you just said the word, he would leave the Order for you. The only reason he was still here was because you wouldn’t let him abandon his purpose for you. Windu may think you would be the downfall of the Jedi, but you were the reason it hadn’t completely fallen yet.

“You’re a poison to him.”

It looked like neither of you would be backing down. Windu saw this, and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened them, he strolled to his seat, and then motioned for you to take the one beside him.

“Let me explain myself,” his voice was much calmer now, but the hard look in his eyes remained. “Anakin is important. Not just to the Jedi, but to the balance of life itself.”

“He never asked for any of that.”

“But he still is,” Windu argued. “There’s no changing that fact. He is powerful. He has potential. And he’s unstable. He was before he met you, and he is now-- even more so.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of how he feels about you.”

You clenched your fists and glared at Windu. “How could being in love ever be a bad thing?”

“Love is an attachment. When one is attached to something, it can be taken away. When it is taken away, it breeds anger and hate and resentment, a path to the dar--”

“Oh, spare me the lecture,” you spit. “I know of your Jedi laws and morals. Now tell me why our love is so forbidden if all it’s bringing him is happiness and peace?”

“For now. It’s happiness and peace for now, because it’s new. I should have stepped in sooner, should have stopped it before it was too late. But with the start of the war, I lost sight of it, got too distracted…” Windu shook his head. “If you end it now, he’ll be able to move on. The damage won’t be permanent.”

“I don’t understand,” your chest stung.

“He loves you. Any Jedi can sense that. And you love him, too.” You couldn’t meet Windu’s gaze. “If something happens to you, and you are taken away from him, or-- Force forbid-- you die, it will break him. He will be consumed by anger and hatred and he will fall to the dark side. His emotions are strong, far too strong to be handled easily. If Anakin goes to the darkside, the Jedi will be no match for the Sith. We will perish, and the war will be lost, and so will any semblance of peace that exists in this life.”

Mace’s tone softened as he saw the tears build up in your eyes. “This path is inevitable, and it needs to be prevented. The only way we can be sure is to remove you from his life. It was a mistake letting you two get so close, and the Council takes full responsibility. But now, you must let him go.”

“How certain are you,” you forced the words from your aching throat. “How certain are you of this future?”

“Yoda had a vision.”

Your breath left you like a balloon deflating. You were glad you were sitting now, because you didn’t think your legs could handle the weight as you felt your world crumble around you. Anakin’s smiling face flashed through your mind, and a tear trailed down your face.

“You have until sunrise to leave Coruscant,” Mace’s tone was back to authoritative, formal and commanding, leaving no room for argument. “You can never return. Not as long as Anakin is here. You may never come in contact with him ever again.”

“And who’s going to stop me if I do? Who’s going to stop him?”

“If you have any respect for every innocent living being in this galaxy, you will do what needs to be done. Now go. You have a job to do.”

You swore you could hear your heart drop and shatter to the ground in a million tiny pieces as you stood from that chair and walked out of the council room. You spent the day mulling over your conversation, crying, pacing, and pulling at your hair. You tried to think of anything you could do to be with Anakin-- pretend to leave him and be even more secretive, get a different identity so you could stay on Coruscant, run away together. You knew he would if you asked.

But deep down, you knew Windu was right. The Jedi needed Anakin, and you were his weakness. If Anakin left, or fell to the dark side because of you, it would be the end of the galaxy. Just because it wasn’t a possibility now, doesn’t mean it wasn’t one in the future. Yoda had a vision, after all, and the fear in Windu’s eyes told you it was serious.

Now here you were, walking to Anakin’s place to spend one last night with him before you had to leave him. Forever. Your body ached from the cold, the grief, and from packing your belongings all afternoon. You could barely form words as you booked a ship off the planet for early next morning. Then, you had numbly pulled on your jacket and boots, and began your trek to Anakin one last time.

Cars whizzed overhead, the honking distant in your hollow ears. You were shaking, but not from the cold, as you caught sight of the Jedi temple ahead. The entrance was only a few feet away. You just had to walk through the door, sneak down the hallway, and you’d be there. He’d open the door, offer you a blinding smile, pull you inside, and warm you up with a drink and a kiss. You would put something on the holonet like you always did, just for background noise, and lay down on the bed and just be together. Talk, or kiss, or hold each other. Feel his laugh vibrate through your body because he was pressed so close to you, watch his curls bounce as he shook his head, listen to the soft sounds of him sleeping. The moonlight always made him look like some sort of space prince as it glistened off his cheekbones, painting him in a pale blue. You would trace your fingertips along his face, and he would pretend to still be asleep as he smiled and kissed your fingertips. So happy, so at peace, so in love--

You stopped in your tracks.

I can’t do this.

The pain was building up again. You thought your heart had already shattered, but the ghost of it kept cracking. Something awful was breaking in your chest with each breath, each second, each step toward your goodbye. There was no way you could face him and be okay tonight. The tears were already making an appearance.

“You need to let him go,” Windu’s voice battled your sorrow. “You will be the fall of the Jedi.”

The breath you took was like swallowing razor blades as the cold air filled your lungs. Steadying yourself on the wall of the temple, you pushed your way past the entrance and entered the main hall. The familiar smell worsened your nausea, and you kept your hood up and head down as you walked the familiar path down the hall, taking the elevator up, and then crossing the last hallway before you found his door.

You schooled your features and shoved down the swirling tempest threatening to spill out of you. Once your hands stopped trembling, you brought a fist up and knocked on the door.

Anakin opened the door. He was smiling brilliantly, blue eyes sparkling in the light. The image of his face falling, eyes clouding over in confusion and hurt as he searched for you the next morning and found you gone flashed through your mind. You knew he would never stop searching for you. This is not what he would have wanted. But Mace was right-- he would heal, in time, and he could live the life he was supposed to live; as a Jedi, a General, and the Chosen One.

“Anakin,” you forced yourself to smile. “Hi.”

His smile turned from charming to soft, hands immediately moving to pull you into his room for the last time. “You’re freezing, my love. Let’s get you warmed up, I already made you something to drink.”

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin angst #anakin x reader angst #anakin fic #star wars prequels

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obaewankenobis · 3 years

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solace — obi-wan kenobi

summary : after the death of satine kryze, obi-wan kenobi returns from mandalore to the jedi temple.

warning(s) : character death, it's pretty fluffy with some angst.

pairing(s) : obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader, mentions of obi-wan kenobi x satine kryze

notes : this is my first fic on tumblr like,, ever. i hope you enjoy lmao 🧍🏻‍♀️. oh also it’s written in all lowercase intentionally!

though you didn’t know much about their relationship, you knew from a very young age that obi-wan kenobi loved satine kryze. the jedi and the duchess were destined to live their lives apart, honor bound to serve the people before themselves, whether it be the citizens of mandalore or the jedi order. you had seen them interact firsthand, the endless bickering and shrewd glances at one another making up a feeble attempt to cover up how they truly felt. you hated the way your stomach twisted and your heartbeat quickened when you saw how he looked at her, overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions a jedi were barred from feeling. he drowned in her touch, however subtle that might be, her hand on his face leaving him with burn marks, his fingers on fire as he grasped her wrist. you stood idly by, hopeless in the shadows, because that was what the force had destined for you. you, like obi-wan, had duties as a jedi, duties that you would put over your own well being and selfish desires, even if that meant spending hours watching obi-wan languish in the realization that life would never allow him to be happy. he’d lost his master at an age where, although he was not terribly young, he was still vulnerable to the world and its brutalities.

life had not been kind to obi-wan kenobi. he was old when he started training, feeling the need to work twice as hard as his fellow initiates, just for him to be remembered and not cast aside. he was constantly battling his darkest fear, that he was never good enough for his master and he would one day be considered unmemorable or unworthy. life was still cruel to obi-wan kenobi. he felt the cold, bony fingers of satine kryze cradle his face, leaning into her touch before she fell back limply, dark blood staining her abdomen. around him, maul laughed, as vengeance had finally been served. all those years the scarlet skinned zabrak had spent wasting away, he only had one thought: kenobi. it was a mantra that kept him going, a fire that fueled him, that drove him so far to the point of madness that the only thought echoing in his mind was exacting his revenge on the man who had caused him so much misery, obi-wan kenobi. with some much needed help, obi-wan had escaped his jail cell on mandalore, but maul had won, for now he was trapped eternally in a prison of his own mind. if he closed his eyes, he could still see satine in all her beauty. the soft, pale buttercup locks of hair were strewn messily across satine’s face, framing her pointed features that highlighted her regality. her eyes, normally a stunning, brilliant blue, were now overshadowed with heavy purple circles underneath, fluttering once, before lying still. obi-wan could still feel the ice of her touch on his auburn beard, could still hear the hoarse whispers of her final, dying breath in his ears. worst of all, he could still sense through the force as her life signature died out, like a warm sun casting its final rays before leaving a planet in darkness. he had loved her, and she had loved him. though light years away, separated by many planets and suns and stars, you could sense his anguish. it was overpowering, tainted by the dark side; this was the closest obi-wan had been tempted to stray away from the light. still, he clung on to the light, clung on to the idea that there was still good in the world, despite every curve thrown in his way. the night ahead of you, should obi-wan not return before then, would be sleepless, as worry for the man ate at your insides, and you were helpless to resist as it consumed you. you were, for lack of a better word, attached to him, and he you, and that was the most dangerous thing a jedi could be. the very idea of caring for one being over another was discouraged, but no one prepared you for how hard it would be to follow a code you lived by. at last, you sensed his presence here in the temple. throwing on a beige cloak, you quietly shut the door of your sleeping quarters to greet him. it was late enough in the evening for the temple hallways to be barren, but not too absurdly late for you to be awake, as the bright yellow hues of the coruscanti sunset dimmed and made their final goodbye through the transparisteel. “obi-wan,” the breath caught in your throat as your eyes met his. he resembled a shell of who he once was, clad in red mandalorian armor that oddly suited him. his russet hair was disheveled, dirtied by dust and sweat, shoulders sagging as his arms lay limply at his side. his ocean eyes were swimming with sorrow and grief, mourning the loss of someone — it didn’t take much to put the pieces together. satine kryze. he had gone to rescue her, and returned alone. “y/n,” his voice is like a melody in your ears, though his tone is solemn and tired. they stood close enough for it to be amicable, but far enough for it to be agonizingly respectable. neither of you made any movement to get closer, knowing the probability of someone stumbling upon them was far too likely. “what happened?” you bit your lip, studying his face. his eyes didn’t quite meet yours, his fair skin littered with dirt and battered with cuts and bruises. “maul,” came the short response. “he… i must report to the council.” waves of alarm began radiating off of him, as if he had just remembered something important. “master yoda and master windu are both away,” you sucked in your breath. “you should speak to them tomorrow.” all he could muster was a nod of his head, and you knew then that he would only talk about it in time. silently, mannerisms mirroring one another, you began walking, your pace slow and your shoulders brushing just slightly every few steps. there wasn’t much to be said; obi-wan was silent for most of the short trek back to the jedi sleeping quarters. “will you be alright?” you stopped in your tracks, pausing in front of his quarters. a faint smile crept onto his face, his lips twitching upwards but his eyes remaining dull. he nodded quickly before turning to enter his quarters. “thank you, darling.” however persuasive the famed jedi negotiator was in his prime, there was something about the way his voice sounded so tired that made you doubt the truth of his words. obi-wan’s name was on the tip of your tongue before he disappeared behind the door of his quarters, not allowing you to call after him; he could lie to you once, to save you from needless worry, but he could not do so twice. without much resistance, you retreated to your own space, the walls and floors scarcely decorated, what little furniture you did possess simple and modest. after a moment, you retired to your sleep couch and allowed your sore muscles a bit of relaxation. sleep did not come to greet you, not even as you spent hours tossing and turning, the normally soft mattress underneath you now lumpy and hard. with a sigh, you threw the covers over you aside, wincing as you were greeted with the coldness of the floor as your feet touched the ground. you made your way to the hallway, pitch black and coated with a blanket of silence, a dim light seeping through the cracks of the door opposite of yours. obi-wan was still awake. raising your hand to knock on the door, you were surprised as your knuckles were met nothingness, as the door slid open automatically. obi-wan had not moved since the night began, sitting in his own turmoil. the mandalorian armor had been stripped off of him and was now cluttered in a corner of the room, and it looked as if he had used the refresher — droplets of water still clung to his hair, and his sleeping clothes looked fresh and clean. “can’t sleep?” you spoke up with a rueful smile, careful to keep your pitch low enough so only he could hear them. the door closed behind you, and then it was just the two of them. he looked up; dark circles of grief and exhaust making him appear older, more fragile. in a hasty, unsure movement, you had crossed the length of the room and settled yourself next to him, the sleep couch dipping slightly under your added weight. there were so many questions you longed to ask him, like the details of his journey to mandalore, and why he couldn’t even bring himself to say more than a few words at a time. but patience was a jedi’s greatest tool, and you forced yourself to simply sit in silence, the feeling of obi-wan’s grief hanging heavy in the air. “i lost her.” his voice is hollow, monotone. there is no need to say her name, but it enters your mind anyways. satine. “i know,” you let out a weary sigh. “i’m so sorry.” without more words, you felt his body shift, feeling the heat coming from his body as he drew closer to you. “you need to rest, love.” there was no reason for him to protest, but you knew why he had stayed awake for so long. nightmares. they would haunt him for the rest of his life, chasing him mercilessly for as long as he remained asleep. no matter how awful life treated him, obi-wan kenobi never cried, at least not in front of anyone — instead, he allowed himself to rot away, internalizing everything for fear of burdening another being with all of his agony. tonight would be no different, you suspected, as you felt a weight on your shoulder, as a head full of strawberry blonde hair, still dewy with shower water, rested against your side. it was hesitant at first, as he barely allowed himself to lean on you, but after a moment of his cheek on your shoulder, he collapsed, the full weight of his body and all his worries heavy against your frame. as your arm wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him closer to you, your breath was light and tense. this was the closest you’d ever been to him, to anyone, really, the feeling of his skin against her own a foreign concept she’d never dared to explore. it was the way he smiled. it reminded you of warm summer days, of lazy mornings on naboo surrounded by nothing but fields of flowers soaked in sunlight. he was like the sun, bright and hopeful; steady and dependable. it was the way he laughed. it reminded you of cozy winter nights, of waking up to a ground littered with snow, the frigid air of the outside making evenings surrounded by a crackling fire intimate and welcoming. it was the way he looked at you. his gaze reminded you of a chilly autumn breeze, of carefree days and brisk weather that made your skin tingle, your heart feeling light and free, singing to the fallen leaves of the sky. it was the way he touched you. it reminded you of spring, of new flowers blooming in soft sunlight, of plants budding with new, green life and animals of all shapes and sizes fluttering around with their young. it was the start of something new. you loved him. it went against everything you stood for, but you loved him. and maybe somewhere, buried deep within his soul, he loved you too. in another lifetime, perhaps you were the right person at the wrong time, or the right person at the right time. but in this timeline, where the jedi code was carved into your bones, where the light side ran through your veins, where your duty came above your being, it was the wrong circumstance. you had been so deep in thought, woefully wishing a for love from a man who could not do so, that you hadn’t noticed how obi-wan’s breathing slowed, how his eyes, which had once fought to stay open, were now blissfully shut. the man who had been through so much, who had endured so much heartbreak and loss, had finally sought solace in your arms. your own eyes fought to stay awake, knowing how much trouble you’d be in if anyone caught you both in such a… compromising position. however innocent the intention may be, the council would not see it that way. your last conscious thought was that of i must wake up before sunrise, before you lapsed into a peaceful sleep.

#obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan kenobi one shot #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #star wars #star wars one shot #star wars prequels #the clone wars #satine kryze #obaewankenobis

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stormwarnings · 3 years

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meet teressu irana’s master and the general of the 109th legion, mey fel

mey fel is a purple and white nautolan born in the northern reaches of glee anselm, growing from tadpole to toddler in frigid water, swimming alongside seals and fish, the white bands over his purple faintly bioluminescent in the short days of the winter; he’s naturally curious from a young age, and it’s easy for the elders to see how force-sensitive he is – when the jedi representatives visit the local council, his mother lets him go with a song and a tight embrace

mey’s head-tentacles grow long, and he grows tall; the crèche is a good place for one who wants to learn, and mey does so very much want to learn

it’s that curiosity (and his lanky-limbs-teenage-awkwardness) which catches the eye of a bright human woman named jocasta nu, who challenges him to a debate and when he loses by the skin of his teeth, chooses him as her padawan

mey’s padawanship isn’t all that long, in the grand scheme of things, but it’s spent crisscrossing the galaxy with master nu – whom he will remain friends with as long as they both live – in the effort to preserve millennia-old galactic lore, to seek out ancient temples, to learn about politics and languages from every world and walk of life

his padawanship is everything he could have asked for, and more

mey is knighted at twenty-three, a head taller than master nu, nearly-fluent in twelve languages and at least eight more dialects, and only a week or so after he loses his first lightsaber

so there’s also the fact that mey’s first action as a jedi knight is to guide a group of younglings to ilum – and it’s there where he swims once more in icy water like that of his childhood, deep until the only thing left is the glow of his own skin, until he finds the kyber crystal that he will use for the rest of his life

his new lightsaber is custom-built, the hilt engraved and dark grey, long enough for him to wield it with both large webbed hands, and the blade an orange the color of salmon meat

mey is more of an academic than a fighter (though he sees his fair share of scrapes and close escapes), frequently coming home to the temple to teach or even just to walks the halls – the huge airy rooms where he can hide away with friends like kit or adi to catch up, the underwater classrooms for the aquatic jedi, master nu in the library always with a datapad and a smile

it’s in one such class that he spots an earnest girl named teressu irana – a pantoran-mirialan initiate who seems to have the kind of thirst for life that one would usually find exhausting, if not for the fact that she likes to talk and mey likes to listen

teressu (tress is easier, just tress, she says with big eyes) is his padawan for almost thirteen years, this purple-haired ray of sunshine who wants to learn about neurology and picks up a stray tooka in their temple apartments and builds herself a blue tonfa ‘saber with sheer determination; she’s the best padawan he could have asked for, and the two of them are adi’s dynamic duo

when the clone wars begin, mey becomes the general of the 109th legion – and their armor will, eventually, be purple just like him and just like tress’s hair – with a blue-haired commander named hurricane, and with a long-haired medic named dreamer, and with hundreds of thousands of men who each (every single one of them) have something to teach mey

he doesn’t have enough time to know them as well as he wishes he could, he doesn’t have enough time to learn from them all that he could

in the last six months of the war, tress turns twenty-six and becomes a jedi knight – mey couldn’t be prouder, because master nu is smiling fully with her lined face, because tress is a grown woman and she’ll be a great knight (and perhaps, someday, the both of them will be masters)

and perhaps, someday, they would have

but it’s a quiet night on a small moon in the mid rim, a thin atmosphere and a dark sky full of stars, the evening after a grueling day on the planet it orbits

tress isn’t with them, off on some mission for depa, so it’s just mey sitting with his chief medical officer, dreamer, and one of the arc squads – adi, pearl, tali, lightning, and saviin

they’re laughing and joking because mey knows them and he likes that he knows them, and it’s quiet

and then it gets too quiet

maybe mey knew he was going to die, but he never thought this was how it would go – his lightsaber in his hands deflecting a bolt into dreamer’s chest, adi and pearl’s eyes so void of expression, a strange silence in saviin’s mind so normally jittery, lightning empty of nothing but good soldiers follow orders, and tali with a headshot to mey’s face, tali who only a day ago mey had been teaching about nautila

his last thought is for the rest of his legion, for tress, for adi gallia and kit, for jocasta, that he can only hope they’ll survive, no matter how hard it becomes

his last thought is something peaceful, that quiet curiosity he used to feel as a tadpole: farewell, old friends – maybe i’ll see you in the next one

#sw #star wars oc #jedi oc #nautolan oc #tcw #prequels #its him!#teressus master #hes just lovely #and i am having too much fun #my ocs #my writing #mine #oc: mey fel #oc: teressu irana #jocasta nu #oc ch: runaround and the 109th

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hausofackerman · 3 years

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Hunter x Reader

Summary: You are a Jedi general who has been sent to her home world to try to convince the king to not join the separatists. You where assigned to clone force 99 and some troops. After two months of working together certain feelings for the Sarge start to bloom. But those feelings have to wait. When find out the king has decided to join the wrong side. The Council orders you to take out as many refugees as you can. Just when you tought the victory was yours a whole company ambushes and the bad batch you as you prepare the retreat.

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!jedi Reader

Warnings: Angst maybe (idk if that's how i would call it) Y / N being attacked, fisical violence against the protagonist.

Word count: 2.5k

Disclaimer: Yes, this one shot based off an Outlander episode. But I adaptated it.

‘I will let your men go, if you but come with me.” the soldier’s voice stopped your next move. You still wielded your lightsaber at shoulder height protecting you and the squad behind you.

“Why do you need me?” you tried to sound as confident and firm as you could.

“The captain might want to share a few words with you.” this strange soldier still had the steady face he had placed since the beginning.

You let out a sigh, and backed down a little. “You give me your word? That you will let them go?

“I promise. We only want you.”

You turned to see the batch for a second, Hunter was the only one with his helmet off and he was looking at you with such a concern in his eyes you have rarely seen before.

“Fine” you extinguished the lightsaber. “I’ll go.”

“No, wait” Hunter finally stepped in and placed himself in front of you. “If you go, I’ll go to.” thankfully he understood that refusing the deal wasn’t an option since they would let the Republic troops go willingly. And take the refugees out of the planet.

Once again, the soldier let out a defeated sigh and agreed. “Only you?” he asked tiredly.

Hunter thought about out for a brief second and then call to Wrecker to come along.

“Great. Now can we go?” the soldier’s tone was starting to sound rude.

Before anything else happened, you run to Tech and handed over your lightsaber. “Take care of this, please. I don’t want their hands on it.”

“I'll keep it safe” he said while taking it.

You glanced at Crosshair and notice the killing gaze in his eyes, you nodded trying to communicate him that everything would be fine. He nodded back even though you knew he didn’t believe you.

“Let's go.” you shouted to the soldier and the three of you start walking behind his company. Hunter took a quick look at you but you were so immersed into your thoughts that you didn’t even notice.

You were questioning yourself what would happen next. And if you should have stopped the guys from coming; after all, your people were known for their hatred towards the clones. And now you did not involve one, but two of them with the royal army.

Your hands were shaking by just thinking about it.

Funny thing it was that for the very first time you were completely surrounded by your own kin, still you could not feel less comfortable. You were scared and worried about your troops. At least you had achieved your goal's mission and all the refugees were getting out of here safe.

Hopefully.

Everything depended on whether your kin’s promise to the enemy was worth something.

“Hey” Hunter’s voice attracted your attention as a lifeguard in the middle of an ocean, where you couldn’t swim. “Look” he said gently while pointing at the ships taking off and slowly disappearing into the atmosphere.

You felt like you finally were able to breath, the mission was complete now. All that was left, was to survive to your probably-upcoming interrogatory. You didn’t miss the fact that only four of the ships that have come with you took off. One had been lost while merely arriving and the other missing one was the Havoc Marauder. Your way out.

Oh, the way you were going to hug Tech if you managed to get out of here in one piece.

A little smirk appeared in your face at the thought. Hunter noticed it and relaxed a little. Yet his right hand still danced around the knife case in the opposite hand.

As you walked into the town where you were supposed to meet the captain the smirk faded quickly, in other circumstances you would have admired every single detail, the buildings, the decorations the people. Your culture.

But right now, your mind was busy still thinking about keeping alive the two men that were with you.

You knew they were perfectly capable to defend themselves. But you knew too, that they would do absolutely anything to keep you alive. And that was the thought that kept you away from enjoying the ride.

After a few minutes of walking through the crowded streets the soldier –whose name you still didn’t know- stopped in front of a tall and grey building, it must have had at least six floors, and for that planet, that was too much.

He dismissed his men and invited, Hunter, Wrecker and you inside.

Once in, you went up the stairs for what seemed like three floors that led you to a big and fancy door which the soldier opened and got in after asking you to wait a bit.

You took advantage of the time that the soldier gave you to make some things clear for the team.

“Okay listen to me.” Hunter’s and Wrecker’s eyes where now on you waiting for your upcoming words. “It doesn’t matter what happen, if the things get bad for you, I want you out of here before someone has a chance of shooting.”

“Do you realize what you are asking us?” the Sarge’s voice was coming out moderate, as if suppressing the urge to scream.

“Yeah, that’s not how we make the things... General.” Wrecker grunted, quickly remembering who he was addressing.

“If anything goes wrong, there are less chances that they would kill me. At the end of the day, I’m one of them. You on the other hand...” there was no need for you to finish your argument, the three of you knew exactly what you were talking about. Besides before you could, the soldier stepped out of the door asking you to come in.

“General, we can’t...” Hunter’s hand grabbed yours in a last attempt to make you change your mind. An unsuccessful attempt.

“Sargeant,” your voice cracked as you let out your last words to him before getting in the room. “Don’t make me make my request an order.”

He finally let go and you walked away from them while listening to the Wrecker’s complains.

You were not going to lie to yourself, you hated to take that kind of position with the batchers, especially with Hunter, but you were not letting them risk their life in a reckless way. You couldn’t. Why? Where you being selfish? The jedi needed you, your service. And you kept putting your men’s life first. And you were not going to change that. And less if it was about Hunter.

“Ah a jedi General.” a man with the same long purple robe as the soldier you already knew, received you with an energetic grin. “You have no idea how much I was looking forward to meet you.” the captain you deduced. You’ve heard from him before. A lot, actually. One of the most feared kings' men in the entire planet. There we’re rumors that he had played a big role in the decision to join the separatists.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t say the same about you.” you tried not to sound aggressive, but your last words to Hunter didn’t get you in the right mood.

“Of course, not you exactly, one of you.” His voice was raspy and deep but you didn't let him intimidate you. His way of talking, on the other hand, was very curious, he had a noticeable accent. And you wondered for a second: if you had never been taken to temple, would you speak in the same way? “Please take a seat, I have some questions you may want to help me to answer.”

You did as he told you and take a seat in front of him, at the other side of the long table. And so, he did.

You didn’t take any time to examine the room you had entered. First mistake.

It only had one window that faced the left side of the table, and in consequence your left side. Behind you a little bookshelf adorned the wall and besides it another young, shaky, soldier stood guard. The look on his face was stupid and scared, so you didn't pay him much attention.

On the right side a big display case, which stored different types of bottles, occupied all the space from the wall to the door.

One way in and one way out. You resumed.

“As far as I know, you honor your word and let my men leave your planet. So, I will be happy to answer the questions I can.” you state trying to set the terrain for a friendly exchange.

“Good.” the captain still conserved that grin. “Perhaps I should start with...” He stroked his chin thoughtfully, but to your eyes he didn't seem genuine. The question had been on his mind since you entered the room. “The fact that you, one of our kin, are helping this republican scum, to conquer us, again.” It wasn’t the statement what scared you, but the calmed and serene tone that remained at his voice.

“Excuse me?” you shoot back quickly. “That is completely out-”

“Let’s promise to tell the truth, okay?” this man didn’t seem completely sane to you, so you proceed carefully.

“Listen, sir. I am a jedi. My alliegance doesn’t bow to this planet nor it’s government. If that’s what you are implying.”

“Oh, but the problem here it’s that I don’t believe your little jedi portrayal, you don’t trick me.” The captain had left his seat and now was coming closer to you.

“And I look more like a civilian to you.” you mocked him because if you both were honest you didn’t. And you put all your faith in that argument. You cursed down your breath for not bringing your lightsaber. What on earth were you thinking!? With it you could've been able to change his mind about you being a jedi, one way or another

“Of course not.” he granted “You look more like a spy to me.” and there you had enough. The fact that this captain had only summoned you so he could start pointing and blaming at you for nonsense –and very quickly, truth to be told- was freaking you out.

“Look, Captain” you tried to pull out your most charming smile. “As much as I would like to continue playing the trivia game with you, I have responsibilities to attend. So as you have no excuse for keeping me here, I would like to-”

“Please don’t get up” his grin finally disappeared “You promised to cooperate.”

“That was before you started taking me as a traitor.”

“And you aren’t a traitor?”

“No more than you are for handing over your homeworld to the wrong side.” you didn’t notice but you were screaming.

The captain sighed and then giggled. As he leaned against the table. “You are really making me regret to have let your men go” He stood right and started to roll up his sleeves.

You didn't know if it was the fear or the sudden reminder that Hunter and Wrecker were still outside but it was like if you were glued to the chair.

“Corporal Keeps” he called out for the soldier behind you without taking his gaze out of you. “I'm going to need your collaboration for a moment here.”

The order, of course got you scared instantly, so you stood up from your seat and as soon as you turned to get out of the room, a big fist collide with your stomach, taking all of the air out of you. You could not make any sound for all trace of your breath had disappeared. You sat on the floor, bent in two, trying to recover the air. You were completely shocked, not because of the pain that was becoming more and more present, but because the blow had taken you completely off guard.

The captain came over and grab you by the hair, lifting your head so your gaze met his. “So? Ready to confess that you're a spy?”

If you would've had a little more air inside you, you would have probably spit on his face. But you were still under the effects of the punch so you simply put the head back down.

“Okay then.” he stood on his feet and called for the Keeps soldier. “Corporal. Have you ever kicked a woman?” If the soldier was shaky when you entered the room, he now looked like if a damn earthquake had taken over him. He stared at the captain with his jaw shaking more than any other body part.

“Captain I-I” the corporal managed to say.

“Do it, please.” the captain commanded.

With a grimace on his face and eyes closed he barely moved his feet against you, yet it didn’t hurt you let out a small moan, you hadn't been able to get enough air back yet.

“Come on, you can do it better.” the captain stood there, merely staring at your agony.

This time this corporal kicked you like a real soldier. And it hurt like hell. You were barely gaining enough strength to move, but with that strike you were out of your senses again.

“Again.” the captain ordered.

You closed your eyes getting ready for the corporal to fulfil the order, which you were sure would leave you unconscious.

But before he could go any further the door was slammed open and Hunter and Wrecker entered with the guns drawn.

Wrecker quickly got closer to the corporal and without saying a word made him stand back and run to hide behind the captain.

“I don’t recall requesting your presence, clones.” the captain said calmly.

“Up you come, General. You're done here.” Hunter said as he put your arm around your neck helping you up.

Meanwhile four more soldiers enter the room trough the already-opened door.

“Hold! We didn’t come here to fight. You tell your men here to step aside before I lose my temper.” dropped the Sarge addressing to the captain. Meanwhile Wrecker put his helmet back on ready to strike.

“You have no right to that woman, not while she’s being questioned by one of her kin.” answered the captain as if he was holding back a big laughter.

“She is a General of the Grand Army of the Republic.”

“She’s a native subject first.” the captain barked. And if you weren’t so dizzy and hanging over Hunter you would have punched him so hard, he would not talk like that ever in his life again.

“She was brought here under the protection of a war bargain.” Hunter started moving with Wrecker behind him.

“And I’m afraid that she didn’t honored her part of the bargain. She didn’t answer my questions.” this man was completely crazy.

“And she won’t, unless you want to be in the middle of a siege to this territory in less than an hour.” Hunter’s words shut the captain up and with a move of his hand, the soldier stepped aside and let the three of you get out of the room.

Once out, Hunter put a hand under your legs and the other one under your back carrying your whole-body up, you rolled your arms around his neck still feeling your stomach aching.

“I believed I asked you to do something.” you hissed.

“I’m sorry, General. But you should have given the order.” Hunter answered endearingly. “But I guess it wouldn’t have helped a lot. There is no way we’re leaving you behind."

#sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x you #hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter x reader #hunter one shot #hunter bad batch #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #hunter tbb #tbb #star wars tbb #bad batch x reader

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hellowkatey · 3 years

Text

When I Fall Apart

It's been a week since being rescued from. Kadavo, and Obi-Wan is convinced he is fine. Anakin, on the other hand, knows his former master better than that.

a little angstpril bonus! based on day 23's prompt: "this isn't you" warnings: mentions of violence, torture, slavery, and death

read on AO3

Anakin is hovering.

This has been an all-day occurrence. Staring at him when he's eating his breakfast. Walking with him between meetings-- not necessarily for any reason. He was not required to attend half of them, but he came along anyway. Now, he is sitting with Obi-Wan in his quarters, throwing a paperweight into the air and catching it while the Jedi Master reviews some documents.

Finally, Obi-Wan lets out a deep sigh, and takes note of Anakin stiffening, sitting up straight and looking at him pointedly. "Are you alright, Master?"

Oh, that's what this is about...

It's been a week since Zygerria. A week since he was pulled out of Kadavo with Captain Rex. A week since he collapsed in the corridor and was unable to request that Anakin not be around when his robes were removed and the horrors of his captivity were revealed. And now Anakin is hovering because despite the continuous bacta patches and his whip marks being well on their way to recovery there seems to be a part of him that is waiting for him to break all over again.

"I'm quite fine, Anakin," he pauses. "Have you ever heard that a watched pot never boils?"

Anakin's eyebrows scrunch together. "No?"

"Well, I suppose I never got around to teaching you how to cook, did I."

"You don't know how to cook, master."

"Precisely why I never could have taught you... Basically, it means if you stare at a pot, waiting for the water to boil, it will not boil before your eyes."

This doesn't seem to clear up anything for the young knight. He leans his elbows on his knees. "Wait, but isn't boiling just when water--"

"What I mean, Anakin," Obi-Wan looks back down at his datapad to avoid the gaze of his former padawan. "is that if you insist on hanging around me all day in case I collapse again, or start breaking down or whatever it is you think I'm going to do, it is likely it won't happen."

The young knight folds his arms across his chest, leaning back on the desk chair. "I'm not waiting for you to collapse, Master."

"Then why in blazes are you following me around like loth kitten?" his tone comes out harsher than he intended. He looks at Anakin, hoping to salvage his outburst, but he can see from the way his shoulders sag and his gaze flickers away that the damage has been done already.

"Anakin, I didn't mean--"

"No, I heard you loud and clear, Master. I'll leave you alone," he says bitterly, slamming the paperweight down on the desk and marching toward the door. He doesn't look back before leaving in a huff, even going as far as using the Force to slam the automatic door behind him.

Always the dramatics with that one.

He sighs, not intending to upset Anakin who was obviously just worried for him-- especially since Ahsoka was sent on a solo mission to a peace conference on Carlac. He's been looking for distractions. Obi-Wan stands, deciding to go after him and apologize for the ill-mannered comment. He'd honestly missed the company of having a padawan with him all the time.

As he gets to the door, his commlink rings. A message from Cody telling him to come to the bridge. Duty calls.

____________________

Anakin is yelling.

He's yelling with the tone of pure anger, but when Obi-Wan looks at him, there is a softness in his eyes more akin to a scared child than a pissed-off general. If Obi-Wan is being honest, the tone and body language of his padawan is really the only thing he can assess right now. Anakin is yelling about something, and Obi-Wan knows exactly what, but the words are like static hitting his brain. For a moment, he even questioned if Anakin had switched to Huttese in the midst of his tantrum. But he knows Huttese (to a degree) and his lack of comprehension is more of a testament to the short-circuiting going on in his brain, not a slip of tongue.

All Obi-Wan can really hear is the sound of his own heartbeat. Pounding in his ear, vibrating through his fingers and toes. He keeps looking at his wrists, wondering if he can see the pulsation pressing against the walls of his arteries, or if it's all in his head.

It's not until Anakin's gloved prosthetic hand clamps down on his shoulder that he looks up from the blank wall he was staring at and the world comes back into focus. He's sitting on his bed, his former padawan staring at him with those big blue eyes.

He's not yelling anymore. He's scanning over Obi-Wan's face as though the goings-on in his mind are written across it in Aurebesh. As Anakin's anger reaches a lull, the Force lets out a sigh of relief.

"Master, this isn't you," Anakin says softly.

"I don't know what you could possibly--"

"You could have killed yourself!" his voice cracks, and he withdraws his hand from Obi-Wan's shoulder, sitting back on his feet. "Don't even try to tell me you're fine because I can see the Force exhaustion. I knew you were self-sacrificing but this--"

"They were going to die, Anakin." Their mission was sidetracked. Hikers in the mountains near their base camp were caught in an avalanche. Obi-Wan could feel that they were near, that they needed help, so he made a decision. "That is what we are meant to do as Jedi, help people."

Anakin's anger is revitalized. "The informant got away. We lost our window--"

"We saved lives."

"That information would have saved thousands of lives."

"And we will get another chance," Obi-Wan stands, feeling talked down to from his seat. His vision swims as he walks toward his desk, subtly gripping the back of his chair to settle himself.

"That's not even why I'm mad."

Obi-Wan turns to him, raising an eyebrow. "Then what is this all about, Anakin?"

Anakin laughs sardonically. "You really don't see it? This is what I'm talking about, you have been acting so weird since Zygerria, and the council didn't listen to me--"

"Anakin..."

"The healing! Force, you would have killed me if I ever did something like that."

He turns back to the desk, staring down at his knuckles white from the exertion of trying to keep himself upright. Hmmm... right. The Force healing.

The hikers were in bad shape. He was worried they wouldn't make it off the mountain. Obi-Wan is no healer, but he knows a few tricks. Enough for some emergency battlefield medicine.

So he helped heal a few hikers. Ensured they would live to make it on the medevac that was still a little ways away.

"I just had to make sure they were stable enough for the airlift," he replies, his voice tight. "I don't see what the big deal is. We have a few days in hyperspace, and I will be good as new for the next mission."

Anakin sighs. His anger has deflated once again. "That's the thing, Master, I don't-- for Force's sake will you sit down?"

Obi-Wan hadn't noticed he was shaking until he opened his eyes (he also didn't notice he had closed his eyes) and saw the violent tremor going through his body. He slips down into the desk chair as a wave of exhaustion hits him.

"This is just proving my point. I don't think everything is going to be okay. You've never done this before."

"Heal people in need?"

"Jeopardize the mission. Botch it even."

"Nobody is perfect, Anakin."

"Yeah, but I've known you for a decade and you're pretty damn close," he rifles his hand through his dark hair. "Master, the way you've been acting... it's been scaring me. You're taking risks that are putting yourself in danger, and don't even seem to realize it. I don't know exactly what happened on Kadavo, but I did read Rex's report--"

"We are peacekeepers," Obi-Wan blurts out, his voice shakey and thick. "Servants of the public, so why in blazes is it so outrageous to save the lives of people who need us? It's our duty-- our true duty as Jedi, after all, and yet-- Anakin, you must remember how things used to be? When you were very young and before there was all this war and the imbalance in the Force. We helped people."

His words hang heavy in the air. Not as eloquent as he'd prefer, but the emotion bubbling in his chest isn't allowing for such permissions.

"We help people by fighting this war, too," the knight says carefully. "We fight so they have their freedom."

"Perhaps, but it's a distraction. And the Togruta people suffered the consequences of the order spread thin." There's bitterness in his tone. Anakin stares at him, his eyebrows raising and lips parting ever so slightly.

"Master..." he steps forward, his tone low and careful. "The people the slavers killed... it wasn't your fault."

Anakin's words echo in his head, but like his tangent earlier, they don't seem to stick. Obi-Wan folds his hands together to mask their shake. "I only wanted to help-- I wanted to help them, but anytime I--" he chokes, covering his mouth with his hand to suppress the sob that tries to escape. "They murdered them because of me. To torture me. I couldn't even look at them-- oh Anakin, I only wanted to help."

When Obi-Wan breaks, Anakin is there. He wraps his arms around him, tucking his head under his chin. He cries for the first time since they were pulled out of that hellhole. Open mouth, undignified crying that he is eternally thankful is occurring in the privacy of his quarters.

He watched so many die. All to drive down his will. The slavers knew exactly what they were doing. No combination of beatings and whippings and hard labor would ever have shattered him as thoroughly as watching the light flicker out of those innocent eyes. There was nothing he could do because if he did, they would only kill more.

The Force flows through all living things, binds and unifies the galaxy together in one energy field, and Obi-Wan holds the power to this at his fingertips. But no amount of power, no amount of training and practice in wielding the Force could stop those lives from being lost so meaninglessly. That feeling of powerlessness cut him straight to the bone.

"I wanted to help those hikers," Obi-Wan says into the fabric of Anakin's robes, "because I was there. Because they needed help and I... I just needed-- I needed to do something."

It was worth it. No matter what Anakin or the council says, it was worth it. Losing the asset, the Force Exhaustion, all of it. Six lives were saved. It does not make up for the Togruta lives that were taken because life itself is not an exchangeable currency-- but it's six lives. Intel is retrievable. He will work overtime to make up for what his actions lost in that mission, but he will not apologize for his decision.

Anakin is speaking softly, saying the same thing over and over. "It wasn't your fault." He has the fabric of Obi-Wan's cloak balled up in his fists, his body at an obviously uncomfortable angle, but he shows no sign of moving anytime soon. It makes him feel guilty that his padawan has to see him like this. He is meant to be the mentor and caregiver, but here he is sobbing into Anakin's chest.

He knows Anakin doesn't mind. He can feel it in the Force despite his exhaustion. Along with the soothing feelings he sends, there is a quiet undertone of validation in his former padawan's mind. Relief. Worry. Love. The realization nearly makes him start bawling all over again.

When he collapsed in the hallway, his body was the part of him that had broken. He was exhausted and in pain and it became too much. But now, his whip marks are healed and the infections are cleared. It's his mind that has caught up.

Anakin was never sitting around waiting for him to collapse. He was ensuring somebody would be there to catch him when he finally fell.

#angstpril2021 #but make it almost a month late #this isn't you #cw torture #cw slavery #when i fall #sw #fic #i finished my undergraduate degree today #so naturally i decided to write for the first time in awhile

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imagineandimagine · 3 years

Text

Secrets, part 2

Pairing: Sith!Obi-Wan x reader

Warning: Dubious consent, things definitely get steamy again.

After training you went back to your room that you had in the temple. You sat down on your bed as you thought about what occurred just a few minutes ago. Did THAT really happen? It’s true that you had fantasies about your Master but for him to actually touch you like that… it couldn’t have been real. You swallowed hard as you touched the spot on your neck that he kissed you. You quickly stood up. You had to talk to him about this. You were just about to walk out when you heard a knock on your door.

Anakin peeked inside, “Emergency meeting. We need to go to the High Council Chamber.”

Being a Padawan, your presence wasn’t really necessary during the meeting, it’s not like you had any say in what the council would decide, but they called all the older Padawans with their Masters just to make a point that this was a serious matter. Apparently there was a Sith hiding somewhere in the Jedi temple.

You stood against the wall next to Anakin, while Obi-Wan sat at a table with the rest of the council members. There was a large map in front of them, they were discussing the whereabouts of the Sith.

You kept glancing at Obi-Wan, anxious to discuss what had occurred but he seemed to be deep in thought as he looked at the map.

After almost an hour of standing in the same place, you sighed out of boredom as you looked around the room. Suddenly you felt someone tugging on your robes. You looked down expecting to see a youngling but there was nobody there. You thought that you had imagined it when you felt a pressure, sliding upwards against the skin of your abdomen, and then someone palmed one of your breasts. You let out a sharp breath.

Anakin looked at you with his eyebrow raised.

You just shook your head to tell him that it was nothing.

You bit your lip as you felt something make small circles over your nipple.

Do you like that? you heard your Master’s voice inside your head.

Master? Is… is that you? You glanced in his direction but he was still looking at the map.

Of course it’s me. Were you expecting someone else?

No… I mean... Are you the one using the force to… to touch me?

I thought you liked this. You felt those little circles over your other breast too, Remember, all you have to do is tell me to stop. Is that what you want? Do you want me to stop, my Padawan?

To say that your breasts were sensitive would be an understatement, so when he touched you like this it made your entire body react, and to think that Obi-Wan was the one making you feel this way made it even harder for you to hide how you felt right now. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as you pressed your back into the cool wall, wanting to disappear from sight. Please…I… I don’t know.

What’s that? You have to be clear with me my dear. The moment you tell me that you don’t want this, I will stop.

You put one leg over the other, twisting yourself so that your thighs were clasped tight against each other.

Is there something else you want…? I’m getting flashes of your thoughts but they are not entirely clear. Open up for me and I’ll do anything you want.

You started to panic as you tried your best to block him from seeing your fantasies that were fighting each other to swim to the surface of your mind. You didn’t know how much you longer you could resist him as you felt a pressure, sliding up and down your already soaked panties. Unwittingly you started to rock your hips, as your thighs rubbed against each other. “There…” you breathed. You opened your eyes wide in horror when you realized that you said it out loud. You looked around the room, the only one that seemed to notice was Anakin, who was giving you a weird look.

“There is an insect over there,” you whispered to Anakin, hoping he would believe you.

Anakin just looked at the place you pointed and shrugged.

You glanced over at Obi-wan who looked like he was stroking his beard, when in reality he was trying to hide a smirk that was tugging on his lips.

“What do you think Master Obi-Wan?” Master Windu turned to your Master.

The sensation stopped. You let out a long shaky breath of relief as quietly as you could muster.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Anakin whispered to you. “You look flushed.”.

“Don’t worry, you won’t catch anything from me.” You joked trying to sound as casual as you could to ease the tension you were feeling.

Master Windu cleared his throat signaling for you to be quiet.

The two of you looked down in a gesture of remorse. When you looked up you noticed Obi-Wan eyeing you, his brow furrowed. Was he jealous?

You had to find out.

Once Master Windu wasn’t paying any more attention to you, you leaned against Anakin’s arm and moved close to his ear “Ani, I think there is an insect in my robes, could you check, please?”

Obi-Wan was getting bored, he subtly glanced at you, contemplating if he should tease you some more, when he saw Anakin tucking your hair away from your face, as you tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your neck. Anakin tugged on the collar of your tunic, loosening it a bit exposing some of your cleavage, as he moved his face close to your neck. It really looked like he was about to kiss it, which made Obi-Wan stand up abruptly, causing him to tip over his chair as he stood up. Everyone jumped at the sudden clang that the chair made as they looked in Obi-Wan’s direction.

The both of you stopped what you were doing as you stood at attention, looking back at Obi-Wan who looked furious.

“Forgive me, it’s been a long day. Perhaps we should conclude for today.” Obi-Wan regained his composure as he spoke calmly to the council.

“I think you’re right.” Master Windu gave Obi-Wan a small nod and rubbed his eyes, “Please think over the things that were said today. Have a pleasant evening.”

Obi-Wan walked over to you in long strides, “Come with me.” He said in a low angry tone, squeezing your arm as he said it.

You hastily followed your Master to a secluded part of the library. Once the two of you were out of sight he turned to you, with fury in his eyes. “Do you think this is funny? Do you think this is a joke to me?” his tone was harsh as he stepped closer to you, his face at your level “You have no idea how much I gave up for you, how much I sacrificed! I threw away everything that I was, just so…” His breath grew shallow as he looked deep into your eyes, there was something dark growing within him. He leaned in next to your ear, so close you could feel his breath on your neck “…just so I could have you.”

Author’s note: Ooofff! I really need water right now!

#star wars #obi-wan #obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x you #obi wan #obi wan kenobi #kenobi

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ayo-cowbelly · 4 years

Text

when the fire goes out, how do we stay warm? part 2/?

previous part ~ next part ~ masterlist

this chapter is just SkySnips fluff and then *angst*. hope you enjoy ;)

the chapter count has changed- this story will definitely be more than two parts. it just went in it's own direction and i was powerless to stop it.

Warning: descriptions of injuries and a panic attack

***

When Anakin wakes up, he sees sterile white walls and bright lights filling his vision. Everything is blurry. It reminds him of being unconscious, except instead of darkness all he sees is blazing white.

The first thing he registers is that his body, especially his right eye, feels like it’s on fire. Then he realizes that his right side feels suspiciously light. Anakin knows he must have injuries, somehow, but he doesn’t remember exactly how he got them. Usually, when he wakes up in MedBay, the memories come rushing back within a few seconds; sometimes it even makes Anakin nauseous. But this time, there’s nothing. No flashes of battle, no cut off sentences, no ringing of an explosion in his ears.

There’s a blankness filling the space where the last few days (or weeks, he doesn't know) should be. It makes Anakin more unsettled than the nausea would.

He closes his eyes, reaching for the memories, but all he can remember is having a meeting with the Council- about what, he doesn’t know. But he recognizes the feelings that come with it; irritation, resentment, anticipation. The emotions feel stronger than they would normally be. Whatever he’d been doing, it hadn’t been good. He dives into his head again, and almost gets past the Council meeting; but when he tries to get farther, he meets a wall. As Anakin bangs against the structure, it keeps pushing him back. He’s not sure if it’s meant for protection or to deceive him.

Maybe Obi-Wan knows? Now that Anakin was awake, he should comm his master- Obi-Wan would surely be aware Anakin had been unconscious (and it must have been caused by something bad, if Anakin’s stinging limbs are any indication). Anakin looks down at his body, inspecting the injuries. His left arm has red scars running down it, along with his legs. Some look newer, and he knows how to differentiate those from his old ones from Tatooine- those he is intimately familiar with.

There are the small ones on his fingers, from when he was a child reaching for machinery his mother couldn’t reach. There’s ones on his legs (which are currently bare, due to the hospital gown he’s wearing) from the lashings Watto and Gardulla gave him, and of course ones he earned for running through Mos Espa trying to get away from said lashes.

But these new marks… he’s not sure where they’re from. Anakin reaches up to his right eye, trying to discover the source of the pain. He runs his fingers over the scar, wondering why it feels… longer than it used to be. Anakin follows the stitches (why he needed stitches on an old scar, he had no idea), dread swirling in him as he traces them down to just above his jawline. His cheek feels swollen and numb.

Anakin counts about 15 new wounds on his left arm, and those are just the ones he can see (some, he notices, run under his sleeve. He doesn’t want to know where they go). There are some bandages on his legs and he thinks he senses one on his left shoulder. Anxiously, he slowly turns his head to his now-weightless side. The sight before him shocks him to his core.

His right arm. It’s gone.

Not just the prosthetic. His entire right arm. Is not there. His limb just... ends at his shoulder, a small stump the only thing left. Anakin slams against the wall in his head, demanding answers, but the damned thing stays strong. The effort almost exhausts his already ragged mind. What happened to me?

As he surveys the MedBay, it’s seemingly empty- save for a few other sleeping troopers, so it must be during the night cycle. His eyes land on the bacta tank. In it is Rex, eyes closed. His body is covered in marks as well. But they’re not as bad as Anakin’s, not even close. The Jedi looks closely at the other troopers in the room, checking if they have anything resembling lashes or cuts- but they don’t. It’s just him and Rex, from what he can tell so far.

The door to the MedBay opens, Kix striding in. When he sees Anakin, he almost drops his datapad. “General! You’re awake!” Judging by the tone of the medic’s voice, Kix is genuinely surprised- just how long had Anakin been out?

“Yeah, I am- Kix, what happened? Where did my kriffing arm go?” As he talks, his throat aches with soreness- Anakin doesn’t try to figure out why (he knows he won’t like the answer).

Kix walks forward slowly. “You… you don’t know, Sir?”

“No,” Anakin says, disgruntled. “I can’t remember anything from before my last meeting with the Council.” His stomach drops a bit when he sees Kix’s eyes widen.

Swallowing, his head medic inspects the bandages and marks on his body. A tense silence fills the room. Anakin hates it.

“Kix. Where did Rex and I go?”

“Sir, I- I’m not sure I’m the right person to tell you.”

Anakin feels a flare of anger. Kix means well, he knows that; but when you wake up with new scars and a missing limb, with your captain in a bacta tank- well, you’re bound to have questions.

“Just tell me why my arm’s gone, Kix, if you won’t tell me where we were.”

Kix lifts his head, looking Anakin in the eye grimly. “Your prosthetic was gone by the time I got to you. The rest of the limb was too infected and torn up to be saved.”

Anakin looks back to the stump at his shoulder. Eyes closed, he whispers, “Why was my arm torn up?”

“General Skywalker, really, I don’t think I’m the best person-”

Anakin silences Kix with a wave of his left hand. “Fine, then, just- can you get me Obi-Wan?”

At his General’s words, Kix pales but doesn’t say anything. “I’ll- I’ll get you Commander Tano, Sir,” Kix says shakily, before turning and walking out.

Anakin has more questions than answers.

He waits, fidgeting with his hospital gown, wondering why the hell Kix seemed so unsteady around him. As he sits in his bed, he tries reaching out to Obi-Wan in the Force. Anakin locates their bond- but it’s unstable, the thread fraying on both sides. He pulls on it, and is met with a wobbly burst of surprise, distress, love, and sorrow from Obi-Wan. Anakin sends back feelings of confusion and slight impatience. He doesn’t receive anything in reply.

He’s about to reach out again, but is interrupted by a shout of “Skyguy!” Anakin turns to Ahsoka, her feet pounding over to him. She throws her arms around him, holding tight.

“Snips?”

“Oh, thank the Force you’re awake- it’s been awful, Master, without you or Rex here- please, don’t ever do that again-”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin says. He gently pries her arms off his, but still keeps her close. His Padawan- his little sister- has tears in her eyes as she looks over him. “What happened to me? Where’s Obi-Wan?”

Ahsoka’s eyes overflow. “Master, he’s- they- I tried to tell-” The sentence is cut off by her broken sobs. Anakin pulls her into his chest again, and she gratefully holds on. He runs his hand over her Lek, making soft shushing noises.

“It’ll be okay, Snips, whatever happened- it’ll be okay,” He whispers. Ahsoka only cries harder. Anakin wonders if his Master is- no, he can't be, Anakin felt him through their bond- Obi-Wan is not dead.

The next day, Anakin sets off to the bridge, intending to get answers.

Well, he tries. Whether or not he actually got there is a different story. Ahsoka, Kix, and even Cody (who has apparently been on the Resolute for as long as Anakin’s been out- the Commander looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks) all sternly ordered him to stay put.

“Master, you just woke up last night; you need to rest.”

“I can’t rest, I need to know where Obi-Wan is, where I’ve been-”

“Sir, as head medic, I’m respectfully commanding you to stay put,” Kix finishes replacing a bandage on Anakin’s leg, sternly giving him a look.

Anakin, knowing not to argue with Kix, tries a different tactic. “Cody, you agree with me, right?”

Cody, who looks incredibly worn out, just shakes his head at Anakin, making the Jedi sigh.

“Please, just tell me what happened,” Anakin begs, looking around at the three of them. The two clones share a glance before saluting quickly and walking away, nodding to Ahsoka.

She stares at the closing doors, hands twisting and pulling at her clothes. Anakin’s eye catches on an angry-looking line on her uncovered right shoulder. Had she been on the mission, too? Anakin hopes she wasn’t; whatever mission this was, it had been catastrophic, if he was missing an arm and Obi-Wan was gone- No. Don’t- don’t think about that- he’s alive, you felt him, you’ll find him-

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. Then another. She wipes her eyes, turning to face him. “Master, we were on…” she pauses and takes his left hand, as if telling Anakin to brace himself. “You, me, Rex, and Obi-Wan… we were on Zygerria. But after that-”

He can’t hear the rest of her sentence. The word ‘Zygerria’ triggers a myriad of emotions in Anakin. Anger, fear, sadness, pain, despair, hopelessness- he doesn’t know what to make of them. He feels numb and overstimulated all at once. His heart twists in his chest. Anakin wonders if he’s about to float away or sink into the floor, and he distinctly remembers yelling and crying and wondering where the Root was-

“Master?” Ahsoka says, but her voice can’t bring him back. He faintly registers a tentative brush of sympathy and love in their bond, but he can’t reply- he’s lost in his head.

Anakin is stuck in an ocean, and he’s going to drown, why can’t he swim- where is Obi, how can I get out, DON’T TOUCH ME- where is the Root, I want Obi, GET AWAY FROM ME- I want to rest, I’m so tired, let me sleep, LEAVE REX ALONE- why can’t I see the Dunes, they’re supposed to be here, I can see Mom again, I HATE THIS PLANET- let them swallow me, I TOLD YOU TO STOP- I want to help, STOP PLEASE STOP, STOP, DON’T DO THAT, STOP- Obi please help me-

The thoughts that must be from the mission whirl around his brain, but he can’t grasp onto the memories they hold. Anakin wants them to go away, he wants them to stay put, he wants to make his hand stop shaking. Why is he burning if he’s about to drown? His heart pounds and he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, his legs don’t work, he is going to sink-

Suddenly, his spiraling mind is gently pulled at with a sweep of affection and love. The feelings aren’t his, but from someone nearby (he can’t remember who). The person keeps building up the sentiment, until they become a thick blanket that is laid over Anakin, shielding him.

He finds that his eyes are closed. He slowly comes back into his body, and realizes his left -his only- hand is tightly gripping something.

It’s another hand. Ahsoka. He opens his eyes, breaths regulating. Anakin releases her, and turns his head to look at her. His little sister looking at him worriedly, questions in her eyes.

“Anakin?” She breathes.

“‘Soka?” He croaks out. His throat is even more sore than before. “Where- where’s Obi?”

A heavy pause. “The queen has him, Anakin,” Ahsoka says quietly.

Anakin can't help but be relieved that Obi-Wan has been confirmed alive. But the Zygerrian queen has him- and Anakin knows that that is so much worse than his Master being dead.

I would rather my child be dead than be a slave like me.

But this time, it's his brother.

"'Soka... what happened... after we were there?" Anakin asks, part of him not wanting her to answer.

"You- The guards, they found you and Rex, and they shipped you off- They put me in a cell," She says. Searching his face, his apprentice knows he needs more details. Sadly, she continues, "They took you to Kadavo, Master. The queen made Obi-Wan her servant."

Kadavo. A place all slaves knew, even on Tatooine. It was the planet that everyone had nightmares of. He had been sent there- The thought almost sends his mind spiraling again, but before it happens, Ahsoka takes his hand and fills their bond with comfort. Anakin meets her eyes. "How long- how long were we-" He can't bring himself to finish. It doesn't feel real- but it must be. They made him into a-

Don't finish that thought.

Anakin turns back to Ahsoka. Another pause. Eyes closed, Ahsoka mumbles, "It was about a month before we were rescued, Master."

He doesn't know what to say to that- he had been on Kedavo for a month? "H- how did they find us?"

"It took them a while to figure out where you were, but once they did, they sent Master Plo to get us. Once they got you, they went for me and Obi-Wan- Rex told Master Plo where we were before he went unconscious, apparently. They found me, but... nobody knows where the queen put Master Obi-Wan."

Red fills Anakin's vision. Obi-Wan, his brother, is missing, in the hands of some slaver queen-

She will pay.

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youngprofesser · 4 years

Text

So apparently I'm turning Depa and Grey's marriage into a full on fic so here's part of it

The door to Depa and Caleb's quarters slides open just as he arrives in front of it, and he walks in to see Depa standing at the counter of the kitchenette with her Padawan nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Caleb?" He asks, palming the door shut behind him and sitting down on a cushioned stool.

"He's out swimming with his friends." She responds, her back still turned to him as there is a ding and she takes two plates out of the heater. "I wanted to speak with you privately."

Mace raises an eyebrow, knowing she'll sense his question even if she can't see it. He hadn't expected for this to be one of those kinds of lunches. But Depa doesn't say anything more, just turns and brings the food to the table, sliding a plate in front of him with a sandwich that smells delightful on it along a piece of fruit. "Tea or water?"

"No caf?" He asks, and she smirks at him.

"I'm not fueling your caf addiction."

Mace pretends to scowl at her. It's not an addiction, he just drinks several cups daily, he has been since the war started. The fact that the war is over and he continues this habit means nothing. "Water, please."

Depa laughs at him quietly, but pours a cup of water for him and cold tea for herself before sitting down. Mace looks at her expectantly, because she did say that she wanted to talk but she meets his eyes with a gaze that says we'll talk in a moment and takes a thoughtful bite of her sandwich.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, and Mace is glad to discover that the food tastes as good as it smells and would also go wonderfully with a cup of caf. With water it just isn't the same.

He is pulled out of his thoughts (which are not sulking) by Depa picking up her knife and deliberately cutting a piece of her fruit, meeting Mace's eyes as she puts it in her mouth, chews, and swallows.

"I wanted to ask you," She says lightly, "If you would be willing to attend an important event with myself and Caleb."

Her words normally wouldn't be suspicious, but there's something more under the words that he doesn't know.

"I would be honored." He replies, which is the appropriate response. "But there's something else you're not telling me."

Depa hums an affirmative, her gaze never leaving his even as she cuts another piece of fruit and eats it. Then she sets the knife down. "I'm going to get married."

Oh.

Mace has known for a few months about Depa's relationship with her former Commander Grey, has been glad that she was happy and had someone to take care of her when she needed it. But the statement is still so unprecedented all he can do is stare blankly for a moment.

She just takes a calm sip of her tea, still watching him over her glass, and Mace has to think some more because he doesn't have anything to say yet.

She's doing nothing against the code, and although not even something unheard of for Jedi knights or master's. Of course in the pre-war order those marriages were solely for procreation of certain species and the ease of potential force sensitive children from that marriage's induction into the order. To be wed simply for love would have ruined her reputation among many. Some more conservative jedi may have even argued for her to be stripped of her mastery.

But things were different now. She was not the only Jedi to have a romantic relationship with a clone, and he supposed for some of those relationships marriage is a possible next step but he didn't think the first would be his own Padawan of all people.

"I-" he starts roughly. "I am shocked but not surprised."

Depa smiles slightly and folds her hands on the table in front of her. "You stared at the plate for quite a while." She returns. "I was beginning to wonder if you had short circuted"

That's an old jab, stemming from Mace's dislike of machinery-based analogies that had only increased with the war. But she's still being cautious, trying to see if he will react badly and he needs to make sure he knows that he supports her, he always will.

"I'll admit, I never thought I ever would see you in this situation." He says, leaning back so she can see he is not upset. "But I'm happy for you."

Depa smiles, and Mace is reminded just how impossibly much he loves this woman. So he reaches out in the force, wraps his presence around her like he's putting his hands on her shoulders and lets her feel his surprise and joy.

"I must say." She says after a long moment of comfortable quiet. "I wasn't expecting the news to go over that easily."

Mace snorts, picking up his fruit and weighing it in his palm. "You thought I would have some protests" He guesses, and judging by the glint in Depa's eye he is correct. It's true he is handling this remarkably well. Perhaps resigning from the council had done him more good than he had initially thought.

"How long have you been planning?" Mace bites into the fruit, promptly gets sprayed in the nose by juice and sets it down to cut it.

His former Padawan smirks at his mistake but summons him a napkin with a flick of a finger. "Officially two weeks come tomorrow, but I proposed to him last month." Mace raises an eyebrow at her over his napkin and she shrugs one shoulder.

"He wanted to propose as well, and decided to make it… elaborate."

Yes, that made sense. Mace has only had a few conversations with Grey, and knows him mostly from the stories Depa and Caleb have told him but he did seem to be the hopeless romantic type.

mace is so blissfully ignorant of all the marriages that have happened already. Poor guy

Also I'm not quite sure how long this fic will be because the file is currently a whole bunch of unconnected scenes so it will be a while before if officially comes out

#depa billaba #star wars clone wars #star wars fanfiction #commander grey #mace windu #everybody lives #star wars #alternate universe #marriage

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gabriel4sam · 4 years

Text

Reluctant wedding bells, a Obi-Wan/Satine story

When Duchesse Satine learned that the Senate would force the Jedi to marry, she immediatly sent a proposal for General Kenobi's hand, fearing every world would try to snatch him. Asking Obi-Wan before would have been a nice idea, perhaps... Now, two people who thought they would only have their duty until the end of their lives must learn to navigate married life. And that's without the proud Mandalorian tradition to try to murder their leader!

The story under the cut .

It was with swearing that Obi-Wan learned of his nuptials to be. Swearing so colourful, so original, that Anakin covered Ahsoka’s head with his hands, protesting:

“Master!”

“That’s not where my ear canals start, Master,” Ahsoka informed him helpfully.

“No, really?” Anakin asked, distracted for a second.

“Also, when I will be fully formed, the part of the montrals where you have your hands will become an erogenous zone.” Anakin took his hands back with a horrified squeak and Ahsoka giggled.

“Snips! Is this…are you pranking me? Please tell me you’re pranking me.”

“Really, Anakin, do you need to go back to interspecies sensitivity training?” Obi-Wan quipped and Anakin suddenly remembered how it had started.

“Don’t swear around my Padawan!”

“Your Padawan have been on battlefield. And in the Senate. I’m sure she had heard worst.”

“Master!”

“But I will make an effort to express myself with the proper decorum of a Jedi Master.”

With a sigh, he seated down heavily next to Anakin. His former Padawan nudged him with his shoulder.

“Would it be so horrible? To be married with Satine? You are very close. And as the Jedi expert on marriage –“

“Because you’re the only married Jedi. Because you wed in secret against the old rules without even inviting your poor Master.” Obi-Wan snapped in answer.

“- yes, that, well, I’m still the only married Jedi you know. And I can affirm married life is awesome. Especially since you won’t have to hide and lie like Padme and I had in our first years.”

“Once again, because you wed in secrets breaking your vows and didn’t even tell me!”

“Do I sense a little rest of animosity about that? Snips, stop giggling right now or you’ll do laps around the Temple with me chasing you with a training saber.”

“It’s been long since you stopped being capable of running faster than me, Master mine.”, the Tortuga answered immediately.

“I get no respect, why, but why, you used to be such a nice Padawan,” Anakin tipped his face up, studying the high ceiling of the room of the Thousand Fountains and the sky outside like it would answer his question.

Obi-Wan grinned, all saccharine sweetness.

“I feel avenged,” he remarked and Ahsoka had another fit of giggle and leaned down over Anakin, offering a high five that Obi-Wan took, with a glee totally unsuitable for a serious and stern Council Member, in Anakin’s opinion.

Peace had been good for them, Anakin thought. For the entire Jedi Order, in fact, and laughs were now a common sound in the Temple. “It’s like dodging a bullet,” Captain Rex had remarked, “you can be angry people shoot at you, or happy they missed. And all of you are happy you’ve not been brutally murdered by brainwashed violations of your slavery laws.”

At that time, there were a few grimaces, but Captain Rex had no intention to relent or to care about other people feelings until his brothers had full sentient rights. Something that shouldn’t be too long: in a week the new Chancellor would be sworn in and he was a smart man, understanding they would all have been doomed without Fives.

The new Chancellor still couldn’t work miracle and he had a choice to make: push for the clones’ right or derail the idiotic laws some dumbass Senators had passed during the chaos after Sidious’ death, a law that called for Jedi’ s marriages, as a way to integrate them better into society.

With a sigh, Anakin let his head against the trunk of the tree behind him, his thoughts running in his head. A moment later, Ahsoka remembered her remedial courses in Galactic history and flew to her classroom in a hurry, with a choice of words that made Anakin cringe.

Against him, he felt Obi-Wan’s warmth and in the Force, he felt the inner peace of this former Master struggling against the news of his impending marriage.

“There are exceptions in that law,” he said to cheer him up.

“Yes, but it would be disrespectful to pretend I’m something I’m not. I’m not going to tell the commission I can’t marry because I’m asexual, or aromantic, or anything in those lines, when it would be a lie. And I hope the Senate will relent a little if a Council member is married. Let the other Jedi have more time…or even let them alone.”

“But you aren’t obligated to be the one taking the fall”, a new voice intervened and Mace Windu came to sit near them.

“Master Windu,” Anakin said with a nod, when the “Mace!” of Obi-Wan was much warmer.

The Korrun Master searched for his words for a moment then he pointed out: “Just because Mandalore offered a…” He seemed lost already and Anakin completed:

“A dowry, like it’s the dark time of bought and paid for brides? Not that Obi-Wan wouldn’t be delightful in white satin.”

“I think I would be much more a lace man,” quipped the red head.

“You two are a menace. But yes. Just because Duchesse Satine seemed determined to not let another planet snatch you, you’re under no obligation to answer it. We have other allies who would offer their hands to a Jedi in some sort of white marriage to protect us from rulers trying to snatch themselves a Jedi as if we are some sort of pet. Let one of us handle it.”

“But,” Obi-Wan observed, red rising on his face, “ Satine… I love Satine.”

It was the first time Anakin heard him speak the words and it was still a shock. Mace himself didn’t seem surprised and only touched Obi-Wan’s shoulder in support.

“I know. But wouldn’t it better if you were to wed, to go to that point on your own? To not be strong-armed into it. I fear what it would do to your relationship.”

It was a good thing Anakin was already seated, he would have fallen on his butt listening to Master Windu. Not for the first time, he asked himself how much the Sith had tainted his vision of the other Jedi.

Obi-Wan smiled, and even in this circumstances, there was real happiness in his eyes.

“I will contact Mandalore myself to accept. I will become Satine’s husband.”

*****

Obi-Wan had meet a lot of officials in his life, so much that they had a tendency to blur into each other. He was still pretty sure he would have remembered the obnoxious Umbaran, an envoy from the Republic Senate, which was currently having an aneurysm at the idea that the wedding of the first Jedi could be something other than a lavish affair, complete with ambassadors from three thousand words, fireworks and more protocols than a coronation.

On the other side of the table, Satine smiled to him. They hadn’t succeed in meeting without half her court since the two days Obi-Wan had arrived and conversation in public were stilled and awkward, empty of their usual banter. It was more difficult that he thought and his meditations had become a struggle, only helped by Mace’s presence, the older Master playing the role of a calming anchor in their joined meditation. Something Anakin, dear Anakin, could never do, no matter his desire to help. Meditating with him was like trying to swim in a flooding river.

Obi-Wan touched his beard to hide his smile, the Umbaran’s words more a background than anything. He was blessed, he thought. Blessed by friendship. So many Jedi had been lost and he had grieved for friends, but he still had Mace, who was playing statue on his right, the perfect picture of a Jedi Master, and Anakin, who wasn’t even trying to muffle his yawns on his left and had insisted to come, even if Luke and Leia were only two months old.

Whatever would happen, his friends would stand with him.

He had the Force and his friends…and soon, soon, perhaps Satine? He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. If he could only have two minutes alone with her, a real discussion…

Satine suddenly stood.

“This is ridiculous. Ambassador Deechi,- and Obi-Wan wanted to face palm because of course that was the Umbaran name, he had met him a few times already and once Ahsoka had earned herself lapses around the Temple by falling asleep during a meeting with him- “Ambassador Deechi, Master Kenobi and I will be married at the new moon-”

“In two weeks, really, your Majesty…”

“-And if the ceremony is not ready to the Republic’ specifications, I will kidnap him and marry him with Mandalore’s old laws, in the mountains, with only my sister and a wise man, as it was done in the time.”

The sister in question, who had seemed as bored as Anakin, punched the air with a cry of triumph. The officials, Mandalore and Republic alike, had paled, and were still spluttering when Satine walked around the table and offered her hand to Obi-Wan who raised from his chair to take it obediently.

The fire in this woman….He was smiling like an idiot, he was sure of it.

“Come,” she said and he followed unquestioningly, his hand in hers.

Bo-Katan Kryze turned to the Republic officials and smiled, with too much teeth for her specie.

“So, with the happy couple out of the way, if we talked about details? Like money?”

More spluttering from the officials but she found an unlikely ally in the quiet strength of Master Windu.

“After all, it would be against all civilized behaviour to exile Master Kenobi here, far away from his way of life. A Jedi contingent would be logical and since the Senate quite insisted about Jedi marrying, it wouldn’t be fair if Mandalore payed for said contingent.” He explained.

Mace Windu wasn’t the sort of man who took pleasure in making people pay for his frustration and anger, even in something as temporary as money. But the Jedi were his to protect and the Senators would have happily thrown them to the Rancors. And Obi-Wan had learned more about the diplomatic game from him than from Qui-Gon. The dear man had been has discreet as a Bantha in a state dinner, trampling around on people’s pride in the name of the will of the Force. Mace was much more discreet in negotiations than poor Jinn had ever been. And much more lethal.

“Her excellency Kryze is well within her rights,” he continued, very matter of facts.

“Oh please,” smiled Satine’ sister, “call me Bo-Katan.”

And together, they extracted every cent they could from the Republic, Anakin watching and cheering them on.

During that time, Satine had taken Obi-Wan into her apartment, deep into the palace, into her quiet rooms arranged around a small garden.

“Satine?”

“I wanted you to see them. I…You need to decide if you want to share them with me.”

“Aren’t married people traditionally living together?”

She touched his cheek and he closed his eyes in the caress.

“When I heard about the law…the idea that they could ship you to a foreign world like a prize made me so furious…”

“So, you offered for me.”

“I jumped into decision guided by my anger, without asking you. And I never, ever, would force your hand. You’re not a prisoner. If you want to never see me again after, never think I would impose myself.” Her sharp blue eyes were scrutinising him so fiercely that for a second he asked himself which one of them was really into the mind reading business.

“You could never.”

Feeling bold, he took the small hand on his face, kissed her wrist. Were they not engaged? He shuddered at the idea that old rules didn’t apply anymore and kissed her wrist again, eyes closed too tight. She smelled of some flowers he couldn’t identify.

“Obi-Wan, look at me.”

He obeyed. She was so close, alive and breathing and smelling so good.

“May I kiss you?” she asked, breathless, and he nodded and closed his eyes again when he felt her mouth on his. Something painful, so usual that he didn’t note it anymore, loosened up in his chest. The second their lips touched, a good part of his worries vanished. With Satine, there was nothing he couldn’t face.

It was only the third time they shared a kiss, and it was so different from the first one, a terrified Padawan and the young Duchess he protected, or from the second, a Master Jedi incognito and the Duchess he had rescued from Maul. It stayed chaste and tender but it was enough to make him weak in the knees.

“I will never ask something of you that you don’t want to give”, Satine whispered against his ear and he shuddered again.

“And if I want to give you everything I am?”

“Then, I will treasure it. I can be greedy, my Obi-Wan. I will keep it and treasure it and claim to the entire world that you’re my beloved.”

Obi-Wan felt a shiver along his nerves and something must have passed in his eyes.

“I will be yours and you’ll be mine,” Satine swore and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed and so thankful.

“Kiss me again?” He asked.

Her lips crushed against his again, less chaste this time, with a hunger he didn’t totally understood. She certainly knew what she was doing and it was a relief: that one of them had more to guide them that two kisses years apart and the stories told by Quinlan!

That third kiss was followed by a fourth, and a fifth. He felt desire rise in him and immediately send it in the Force, an old habit, before remembering he could now embraces it. It was almost too much and he broke the kiss and hid his face into Satine’s neck.

“Will you marry me?” She asked and he smiled and whispered his yes.

“Were you serious about marrying me in two weeks, without all that pump?”

“Would you prefer it?”

He made a face.

“I could do without all the politicians trying to earn points by being invited,” and they were so close that he felt her laugh inside his ribcage.

They couldn’t escape the pump, of course, it would have been too nice. He suspected Bo-Katan ran as much interference as she dared, because she liked the idea of her sister stealing herself a Jedi, in the old ways, but at the end, there were politicians and holoreporters and too much people.

He knelt in front of her, dressed in a Jedi uniform in Kryze colours and felt the weight of the circle of gold she placed on his head like an oath. All his friends had come. Dex and Anakin were crying tear of joys and Bant’s colour around her gills was almost ruby, her skin tone reacting to a strong emotion. Padmé was trying to cover her yawns because the Senate was working fourth time more that it had under Palpatine. Quinlan was wearing his most formal attire, something Obi-Wan would have deemed deeply suspicious if the attire hadn’t the highest collar possible and Quinlan a tendency to like lovers who marked him….

It was a nice ceremony. It was something he never knew he would have. He swore to himself he would do his best to become a good Mandalorian’s consort and stood back, taking her hands in his, smiling so hard it almost hurt.

He was her husband.

And then the problems started.

When you marry a ruler of Mandalore, the problem is that with the marital life came a full planet of Mandalorian….

*******

Bo-Katan had been happier that she could have imagined at her sister wedding, despite the years of bad blood and silence between them. She was quite proud of them, mending their relationship like that, working together to make their planet united again. She was also so proud of Satine, taking her man out of Republic’s hands and making them pay for it, too. She would have preferred an old ceremony, traditional, in the mountain with only as elder as officiant and herself to represent the clan, but perhaps for her own wedding, if she ever found a man wanting to be kidnapped by her from his clan?

The Jedi thing was clearly unfortunate, really couldn’t Satine have chosen someone a little less controversial with the Jedi-Mandalore history, but nobody was perfect. Most of the Jedi contingent which had accompanied him seemed bearable. She could come to like Kenobi, if he made Satine happy. She had been less convinced at the beginning by the addition of the clones of Jango Fett, but it was evident that even heavy artillery wouldn’t separate them from their former General.

She was whistling when she went around the corner in the familial wing of the palace, ready for bed, already in a nightshirt after a moment in the private sauna….and found a fully armoured Mandalorian wearing gold for revenge, kneeling on a ventilation shaft exit. There were only dark possibilities for that being presence there, and most of them was of the murder of Satine and/or her brand new consort sort. Yelling the Clan Kryze traditional war cry, which hadn’t been used in the palace since some good fifty years, Bo-Katan charged.

She was of the punch first, ask question later Kryze-model, like Korkie father and a long list of ancestors had been and what followed was an epic brawl. She regretted she hadn’t worn her jet pack and full weapon set to bed. The small knife strapped on her tight was clearly not enough as a Beskar'gam opener, even if she cut a tendon successfully, just at the knee, where one of the weaknesses of this type of Beskar'gam was.

A machete. If she survived that one, she would go to bed with a machete strapped to her tight and a blaster under her pillow!

Despite her disadvantage, she was winning, when in a desperate move, the other started his jetpack and thrown the two of them through a window.

That was it. She was dead. That Jedi better protect Satine and Korkie or she would haunt his Coruscanti ass. She closed her eyes against the vision of the ground coming …and opened them a few seconds later because it took too long.

Apparently, because she was floating.

Floating in direction of another window, a little to the right, which opened like it was holocommanded.

She touched the carpet and almost fall down, her knees weak, but strong arms helped her. Strong arms dressed in Jedi tunics.

Come on, a death protecting her sister, even in her nightshirt, would have been better than being saved by one of those…

“Are you alright, your Excellency? Can you stand?”

There was more real preoccupation in the words that she would have thought, and the voice was female. She looked up and her saviour was a Moon Calamari with enormous black eyes and a tattoo around one eye socket, which she was sure had been clone-designed.

Even if the Jedi was keeping Bo-Katan standing up with a strong arm around her, her other hand was extended in direction of the open window, where the would-be assassin was still suspended, too far away to grab anything, head down, trashing like a fish on a hook against the strength of the Force gripping him.

“What’s your name?” Bo-Katan asked, without moving from the Mon Calamari’s arms. The other was smelling salty and was running colder than Bo-Katan, but even then, the red head felt like she had burrowed under a warm blanket and for a second, she asked herself if the other was using the Force to comfort her after that near death experience.

“Bant Eerin, your Excellency.”

“Bant, you definitely should use my first name.”

*****

To the new lovers, intimacy had come naturally. Obi-Wan had been raised in a chaste culture but Jedi took to chastity like a way of life, not like a moral judgement. Once he knew he could look, touch, share… And with Satine? The woman he loved guiding him, he had taken to physical love in her arms like he had been clay shaped to be the perfect lover for her.

They had waited decades for that, in a way, and at the beginning, it was difficult to let go of each other.

Mandalore was too unstable for them to take a honeymoon, but Bo-Katan and the officials were supposed to take care of the planet for them for five days and they had every intention to use those five days.

So, when Satine woke up from their latest session of love making and let her gaze embrace the room, she didn’t immediately realized what had woken her up. The moon was high and letting see every details but she was pretty sure she hadn’t slept more than one hour, so why was she awake? She looked at her bedside. Her holocom was an angry red, a muffled sound coming of it. She looked at her message, then immediately woke up Obi-Wan.

“Someone tried to murder my sister,” she explained, “help me”. With awkward fingers he zipped her, tied, and buttoned, struggling against meters of taffetas and so small ties that he cheated and used the Force, his fingers too big.

“Do you really need all of that stuff?”

“She’s alive and will stay that way if she knows what is good for her. I can’t take the time to dress. I can’t appear weak, and running to her bedside without all that stuff, as you said, that would appear weakness. But I can’t appear too long after, or her own position would be weakened. I never should have given the week to all my handmaidens…Tighter, darling.”

“Tighter and you won’t breath!”

“No, but I will stand straight and proud. Not every Beskar'gam are metal, cyare.”

*******

There was a delightful small garden, deep in the palace, which had been the late Duchesse, the mother of Satine and Bo-Katan, personal domain. Here, she had escaped the dangers of the court and most of his intrigue, which she hadn’t been really built to endure. The two sisters more precious memories of their parents and their dead brother, Korkie’s father, took place in that garden.

It had been destroyed during the civil war but when it had been possible to use credits for something other than urgent matters, Satine had it remade. That had been the first renovation work in her familial wing.

Not her apartments, not the throne room, not the gallery of old Kryze portraits and holos, that frankly she found creepy, but this garden.

And now, it was only used for family and very close friends. A place without the cutthroat politics of the palace, without the constant need for Satine to watch her tone, her words, her posture.

Satine was half sitting, half reclining in a deep ottoman, Obi-Wan sitting on the floor on a thrown pillow, his feet in the small fish pond. To her great pleasure, he had immediately loved this place and they were already in the habits to come here when they had a little free time.

Obi-Wan was leaning against his wife’s legs and had such an expression of peace on his face, he probably would have purred if he had been physiologically capable of it. He was wearing some tunics in the Jedi’s traditions, but he wore them in Kryze colours, and she loved how he marked himself as hers in this small way. They were still exploring, slowly, the wonders of their newly found intimacy. Satine was finding in herself more joy that she could have believe possible in this exploration. She loved how Obi-Wan slowly unfurled under her guidance. He had come to her curious and a little cautious, deeply unaware of the reality of a relationship.

And she had been, so, so careful, realizing more than him how he could have been hurt in his naivety, how she could have taken from him pieces he didn’t even realize he was losing before it was too late.

The reward of their relationship growing stronger every day had a sweetness that made her heart sing. Every day it deepened, brought them closer and closer. There were so many things to explore together and she wasn’t thinking of sexuality, even, if yes, that would be fun too, to offer to Obi-Wan the multiple nuances of human sexuality and to explore them with him.

They would be so happy, she was sure of it, like they couldn’t have been if he had renounced being a Jedi for her. They would be so happy, like they already were, but every day a little more.

She put down her datapad. Right now, her mind was busier with the wonders of her dear husband than it was with their social life. They needed to choose between the celebrations on Coruscant of the latest Chancellor’s elections, or the second Jedi wedding celebrated since the war, which would happen on Saleucami between a clone Commander and his Jedi. She was sure Obi-Wan would prefer the wedding and if the former would have been more politically smart, making Obi-Wan happy ranked higher than scoring political point.

Like he had heard her thoughts, Obi-Wan turned to her, kissing the hand that had been playing with his hair. Adoration was making his eyes shine. She leaned down for a kiss and perhaps she would have initiated more, cajoled him into going into their bedroom, if not for a noise on the other side of the garden.

The Darksaber had always held a special place in Mandalorian history. It had go from families to families, a symbol of power and duty. In some periods of history, it had also been seen as cursed. The Jedi who had meet their demise by it, less numerous than Mandalorian pretended of course, because trying to kill a skilled Force user with a proximity weapon was a terrible idea, those Jedi were supposed to jinx the saber and those who bear it.

It had been almost six generations since a Kryze had possessed it and Bo-Katan had taken to it with great pleasure and the over eagerness of a murderous Aak puppy.

Nevertheless, even if the Dark Saber had been possessed by the Kryze before in his history, it was certainly the first time it was used that way. To teach a Mandalorian lightsaber combat techniques.

Bo-Katan lost her footing and she would have fallen into a bush, if Master Windu hadn’t caught her with the Force, and with half a smirk. Her opponent today was Anakin and he was without mercy in training. Around them in circle, Mace, Ahsoka, Bant, Quinlan, Aayla and Siri were commenting and offering advices. Siri was leaning on a crutch, she was just coming back from a hard mission, but the rest of them seemed more rested that they had been in years.

“For a woman who profess to despite Jedi, your sister likes to collect them,” Obi-Wan remarked to his wife, “ and I’m pretty sure your security officers will soon resign if she doesn’t stop asking the Jedi for help in testing their security measures.”

Satine had a smirk and she drawn in his head against her legs again. He had come to bed late all week, negotiating with some exiled Mandalorian structure, one of many, to reinstate them in Mandalorian society. He was a fine negotiator, he was after all THE Negotiator, but Mandalorian had hard skulls and he was pretty tired.

“Bo likes dangerous people,” Satine admitted, starting again to pet his hair,“I think it was only a question of time.”

On the other side of the garden, Bo-Katan had asked for a respite and was drinking some energy drink, as Bant fussed over some minor graze the red head had received.

Satine put her head against the back of the ottoman and closed her eyes, savouring the last rays of the sun on her face. Tonight, there was another dinner with too much small talks and too many people she despised. Tomorrow, there would be politics, internal to Mandalore and also on the galaxy scale, there would be the problems of the latest extremists and their refusal to join Mandalore again unless it burned on their terms, but in that moment, with Obi-Wan safe and happy against her, and Bo-Katan with her again, as happy as she could be, Satine could savour peace.

A few months after Satine and Obi-Wan had tied their lives together, a bomb went off in their apartments in the middle of the night.

The bombers were good bomb makers, but terrible gossips readers. When the Duchesse’s rooms were gutted by an explosion, said Duchess and her husband were on Coruscant for the wedding of Master Ima-Gun Di and Captain Keeli, a fact that had been announced on every tabloid on Mandalore. In fact, the exact minute the bomb went off, they were cheering with the rest of the assistance as the happy couple kissed for the first time as married couple.

There wasn’t any loss to deplore and the couple found the message when they came back to their rooms in the Mandalore embassy late in the night, and immediately contacted Bo-Katan.

“Don’t change your plan,” the young woman advised, “I’m more than enough to handle that and you rushing back here would be read as you not trusting me enough to kick their asses.”

“Please, don’t maim anybody,” Satine asked, then seeing her sister’s expression, she corrected “please, don’t maim anybody too much.”

“Do you think we should still go back?” Satine asked her husband after, while he was busy with her corset. He had developed quite a talent with her complicated clothes, he would do a good handmaiden. And if sometimes, she loved to see him in said corset, it was between them.

“Let’s take a decision tomorrow,” Obi-Wan said. He kissed the newly unveiled skin of her shoulder, before adding: “We’re tipsy and tired, it’s not the best moment for that. And Bo-Katan isn’t alone, the Jedi contingent on Mandalore will offer its help in her search of the guilty party. And…well, they will stop them if she try to execute people in a moment of anger. Perhaps there is even some she likes enough to listen to them.”

“She respects Knight Eerin,” Satine admitted.

“Is that was the kids call it now? Respect? Because I’m pretty sure we used another word when I was a Padawan and you the newly crowned Duchess. I hope your sister is serious. Bant is a serial monogamist.”

Without answering, she turned in his arms, “Enough talk about Mandalore for tonight. Do you know it’s traditional to have sex on a wedding night?”

“It’s not even our weeding night,” Obi-Wan remarked, amused.

“Will you let that stop us?”

“Certainly not.”

When Obi-Wan and his beloved wife were on Ryloth for the weeding of Knight Secura and Commander Bly, Bo-Katan cracked open like a nut a small cell of nostalgic Mandalorians who thought Satine had nothing to do on her throne since she hadn’t killed anyone for it. Fortunately, Anakin was with her to stop the arrests of becoming illegal, which they would have become if she had bashed them on the heads enough to make them spit the names of their sponsor, as was her first idea.

“You shouldn’t do that to me,” he had half-whined to the red head after, “I can’t be the voice of reason, it’s too much pressure!”

Despite his words, he followed her everywhere in her long search. His former Master had never been happier, the shadows in his eyes had never been lighter, and if Bo-Katan needed to play nice for Satine to be happy and safe, then she would play nice, even if Anakin had to follow her everywhere like an overgrown, well-armed puppy.

It had brought about a slight problem between him and Padmé, who couldn’t understand why he couldn’t give that job to a Mandalorian officer, or to another Jedi.

How couldn’t she understand that Obi-Wan’s happiness couldn’t be in the hands of just anybody?

“Pretty sure it’s supposed to be in the hands of the Duchess,” Ahsoka remarked when they talked about it, “Or best, in the hands of Master Kenobi. Because he’s, you know, an adult and even an adultier adult than anybody else we know. Except perhaps Master Windu.”

“Adultier adult?” Anakin had asked, an eyebrow arched, “Should I send you into remedial grammar class, and she had stuck out her tongue, in a childish moment that he saw less and less frequently in her. His heart had squeezed painfully in his chest. His Padawan wasn’t anymore the young Tortuga of their beginning. She was an adult. Soon, very soon, she would be a Knight.

An awesome, awesome Knight, but it seemed to Anakin that Yoda had send her to him only days ago, and now she almost towered above Obi-Wan.

Surprising her, he kissed her brows in a paternal gesture.

“Master?”

“If anybody try to throw that stupid marriage law at you against your will after your Knighthood, we’ll run away together and become pirates,” he simply answered.

“Padmé wouldn’t like it.”

“Sad but true. Doubly sad, because she would make an awesome pirate Queen.”

Bo-Katan and Anakin were on the same opinion about one fact: the ducal couple was safer away from the planet. They insisted, very logically thank you even if later Obi-Wan would pretend they had whined, for them to continue their trip, since it’s was wedding season in the Jedi Order, and to let Anakin and Bo-Katan handle everything else.

Since Obi-Wan didn’t seem convinced, Anakin used his last card and swore he would ask for Cody’s help. The Clone Commander had refused prestigious postings to follow Obi-Wan to Mandalore and was now a member of the Ducal guard, it wouldn’t be complicated to bring him into the investigation, it would even be logical. Of course, it was also a little like offering to bring a baby-sitter with them, but he wasn’t above the slight embarrassment of it, if it kept Obi-Wan safe!

So, Cody, Anakin and Bo-Katan investigated, and Satine and her husband went from wedding to wedding, from worlds to worlds.

Some of those weddings happened between clones and Jedi, most of the time on the worlds of their first missions together, something Satine found half romantic and half creepy, since a lot of those first meetings had included explosions, battle droids and a body count. Some of those weddings happened between officials and Jedi, some in the Senate, some meet in missions, all of them people who had meet the Jedi before that infamous law, and who had saw them leave for another assignment with sadness in their hears. Now, they had a second chance and Satine was happy to see Obi-Wan’s face at every of those weddings. His quiet joy at seeing his friends and brethren found, if not the love the two of them had, but strong, good pairings, full of respect and trust. He even cried a little, when Mace Windu married Bail and Breha Organa.

They let all those celebrations of love lure them into a dangerous sentiment of safety. It was quite a shock when a Rhodian tried to stab Satine, during the ceremony of Garen Muln’s wedding.

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan snarled, his knee on the back of the would-be assassin, his lightsaber, turned off, just pressing against the Rhodian’s neck as a very successful warning to stay down, “We’re going back to Mandalore. I’m going to handle those factions myself.”

In most people’s minds, dangerous beings are supposed to dress in black and lurk in the shadows. An exotic name/past/dead lover whose soul need revenge and / or an interesting scar help.

Obi-Wan Kenobi fit none of those criteria. Force Healing and bacta had stopped the multiple wounds of his past to scar. He was happily married, and not mourning a long dead princess/stripper with a heart of god/ childhood sweetheart for who he had sworn to clean up the world, as classical romance holodramas tropes demanded. Obi-Wan was the most common first name on Stewjon for a male human of his generation, and Kenobi the third most common last name of the archipelago in the Northern hemisphere of Stewjon where he had been born. He left the black to Anakin, preferring traditional Jedi colours, or more and more, Kryze colours, all blue and grey. His past wasn’t more exotic than any other Jedi, and for lurking in the shadows, he wasn’t a drama queen like Xanatos, may the Force have misery of his soul, had been.

So, Obi-Wan looked mild mannered most of the time, and exasperated by the world’s attics the rest of it.

He didn’t look dangerous, or perhaps just for people’s pants when he went full flirting in the name of the mission. But not dangerous, could remove limbs at the smallest provocation, dangerous.

Which definitely prove people shouldn’t be judged on their appearance, because Obi-Wan was probably the most dangerous Jedi.

Oh, he wasn’t as powerful as Anakin in sheer puissance. He wasn’t as skilled with a lightsaber as Master Windu. Not as apt to mind manipulation as Master Mundi, or as good in diplomacy as Master Gallia.

But he was good, very good at all those things, and it was because he was powerful and at the same time pretty good with a lightsaber and pretty good with mind tricks and so good in negotiations they gave his name to some new ideas in that field, that he was the most dangerous.

Also, he reached a point, sometimes, when he was out of fuck to give and just broke things in his path until he reached his goal, no matters the collateral damages.

Mace blamed Qui-Gon. The man had been a horrible influence and a young Jedi could only spent so much of his formative years using ruffians’ methods and horrifying protocol officers before bad habits took hold.

This is why Mace wasn’t surprised when, a month after his weeding, he was woken up by his private communicator. Extracting himself from his spouses’ arms was quite a challenge: Bail was quite the octopus in bed, and Breha liked to use his shoulder as a pillow. He was forced to cheat and to use the Force to be sure they continued to sleep. Ruling a planet was a challenge, when you wanted to do it well, and marrying the Master of the Jedi Order had only put more problems on the Organa’s plate: they needed all the sleep they could have.

“Skywalker?” Mace asked, once he was out of the bedroom.

“Oh, I forgot about the difference of hours with the capital of Alderann, sorry Master” Anakin said when he saw he was shirtless. Even in the blue of the holograms, Mace could see him blushing. The younger Jedi had been married for years, what did he expect exactly, Mace sleeping in full Council regalia?

“Now that I’m awake, tell me why you called.”

“I’m so sorry, Master!”

“Anakin!!”

“Hem,yeh, hem, it’s about Obi-Wan, Master.”

“Force, did something happen to him? Why didn’t you start with that?”

“No, no, he’s fine, totally, I mean physically. Not that I think he isn’t fine mentally!?”

“Skywalker! If you don’t start telling me why you called, I’m going back to bed. What happened to Obi-Wan?”

“Nothing happened to him. It’s more that he’s the one happening to people, Master.”

Mace pinched the skin between his eyes. He had a better relationship with Skywalker now, no that the bar was very high before, but that didn’t mean being waken up in the middle of the night by a hysterical Chosen One who didn’t make sense was a pleasant experience. In the Amidala-Skywalker household, the Senator was definitely his favourite.

“Start at the beginning.”

“People are trying to kill the Duchess.”

“Not to sound blasé at the idea of murder, but people have been trying to kill the Duchess for longer that you have been alive. Most of them are dead, and she’s still ruling Mandalore. And probably half the Neutral Systems underhand. And she would rule half the Republic if she didn’t fear it would annoy Obi-Wan. My money is on her.”

“I know, but I think Obi-Wan has reached a tipping point! He crashed a ship on a Death Watch’ stronghold on an abandoned moon. It was evacuated, but you could still see the fire from the other end of the solar system! He cut three arms this week! He made four Judicials officers and the Education Minister cry yesterday! Even Bo-Katan thinks he’s perhaps going a little strong and I spent three months stopping her from decapitating people in public as an interrogation technique! Master, I’m very bad at being the voice of reason, I don’t know how he did it all these years. And the Duchess seems to think it’s all fun and game and he’s in control, only I’m not so sure and if he kills someone accidentally, pretty sure they will get divorced and he will be infinitely sad. Please, come to Mandalore, Master Windu, you’re my only hope!”

****

That morning, Obi-Wan woke up way later than he had planned to. He searched, still half asleep for the chrono on the bedside table, because there was way too much light in their bedroom for really be the time before the damn thing was supposed to woke him up, and discovered it had been totally disconnected.

Surprised, he tried to roll over, but couldn’t, because someone had tied his other wrist to the head board with a long silk scarf. His first reflex was to tear the thing down, and only the colour stopped him. It was Satine’s colour, and he was in their bedroom, so the culprit was probably not another Death Watch murderer.

He half-turned and here she was, in a chair in a corner of their bedroom, in that long dress of lace almost totally transparent that had made him cross his eyes the first time he had seen her in it.

“Not very prudent tying down a Jedi during his sleep,” he remarked.

“Even if your sleep, you know I’m not a danger,” she answered and he gave her a little nod. He liked that. That despite his nightmares and the hair trigger and the PTSD, his subconscious would let her tie him down. That even that part of him knew he was hers, that everything she wanted to give her, he would take it, and that everything he was she could take and use, and he wouldn’t fear, because he was hers, hers only, and Satine always took care of what was hers.

Satine stood up and made her way along the bed, her gaze a pleasant weight on his skin, then the lace dress was abandoned on the floor and she knelt across his legs.

“The Death Watch,” he said, because she was beautiful and he adored her, but the sun was high in the sky, and he needed to go and make sure she was safe:

“It is handled,” the Duchess, “And now, I just want to hear Yes, or Stop.”

The answer was easy and the untied hand of Obi-Wan went to join the other one obediently on the head board.

Satine said it was handled, and too contradict her wasn’t in Obi-Wan’s power, here, in the safety and warmth of their bed. Not when she was there, the light of her eyes burning every dark thought and doubt.

Satine had said it was handled, so he could let go into her arms.

“Yes,” he said, arching up against her and she smiled at him and leaned down, pressing his wrists against the mattress in an order for staying there and everything else disappeared around them.

*****************

Let’s observe some nameless Death Watch goon. He was middle aged, with beautiful blue eyes, currently covered by his helmet. Good people don’t have the privilege of beautiful eyes, certainly a sad genetic problem in the human species. He had been a sweet child, a faithful friend, and if his parents had been dead for years, he scrupulously visited his aging grandfather.

With different choices, he could even have been considered a good man. But the current situation was that he had made the wrong choice, and then the wrong one again and again and again. The current situation was that he imagined himself for superior, for horrible reasons that could be resumed to the fact that he considered himself entitled to more than other people, and for less efforts.

Greed was the seed of our nameless Death Watch goon’s fate.

So, as he opened the door of another Death Watch’s stronghold, not to go and do evil, but simply for a supply run, nobody in the galaxy should feel sorry for nameless Death Watch goon, as he suddenly felt against his neck the shining blade of a purple lightsaber.

“I have questions,” the man on the other end of the lightsaber said, “And you will answer them.”

“Death to the Jedi!” the nameless Death Watch goon immediately yelled, activating the self-destruct of his pack. Suicide in case of capture had never really been his plan, but to be known in the Death Watch history as the man taking down Mace Windu himself, such things could be supportable.

Sadly for the Death Watch, but to the Republic’s relief, the charge didn’t explode to kill the Master of the Order, no, the buckles on the goon’s torso opened themselves violently and the suicide bomb threw itself far enough than only a whisper of his power passed on them. Mace Windu hadn’t moved a finger, because apparently fear for their lives was a thing that happened to other people. The goon jumped two feet in the air at the voice behind him.

“Like he said, we have questions,” Anakin Skywalker smiled with too much teeth.

“And some official protestations,” a green Nautolean Jedi said behind the Chosen One.

“We heard you weren’t nice to our brother,” a human Jedi in pilots suits added.

“And since the war is done, we have more time for individual planets problems,” a smaller Moon Calamari Jedi said.

“So, we’ve come to kick your ass,” a Kiffar one finished, and he gave our nameless goon a smile even more terrifying than Skywalker.

****

Here they were, again,

In the Temple, in the Room of the Thousand Fountains, just the three of them sitting down at the feet of one of the biggest tree, observing people. But the atmosphere was so different from one year ago, when Obi-Wan had been lost between his love for Satine and his anger at the violence the Senate inflicted on them in forcing Jedi to marry. One year ago, they still had been reeling from the war, still hesitant in their footing in a galaxy where not everyone wanted to kill them. One year ago, Ahsoka was still unsure of her place in the Jedi Order, which she had only joined again when she had understood Palpatine had organized her fall to isolate Anakin a little more. One year ago, Anakin was still angry, lost between the reality of Palpatine’s machinations and years of habits to blame others, especially the Order, for the universe’s problems.

Today, they were in the Temple for a celebration: a little less year after her sister, Bo-Katan was marrying a Jedi too. Somewhere in the Mandalore’s necropolis the two sisters’ fierce-Jedi-hating ancestors, were probably spinning in their graves fast enough to power a small turbine….

Today, there had been no pressure, no hesitation: the law, if not repelled yet, had been buried by the new Chancellor under enough red tapes to protect the Jedi until he could definitely kill it.

No, Bo-Katan had come to the Jedi Temple only for the smile of Bant, because her Moon Calamari lover would live on Mandalore now, and the young Mandalorian had found fair to marry then in Bant’s home.

Today, Obi-Wan was wearing House Kryze’s colours, like he was doing more and more, and slightly tipsy on sparkling wine. His gaze searched regularly Satine, busy cornering a poor politician about the Force only knew what, without shame. And every time, like she knew he was looking, she let her victim a few seconds respite to turn and smile at her husband.

Anakin himself was more than slightly tipsy. Padme had left just after the ceremony for Naboo with their children, where he was supposed to join them the next day, and he had celebrated a little too much the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be a role model in that moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a role model to me too?” A very amused Ahsoka had asked, at the third cup of wine.

“Nah, it’s been long since I had anything left to teach you, Snips.”

Ahsoka raised up from her crouch against the tree. The flowers adorning her montrals had slipped way off their careful arrangement, giving her a strange dishevelled air, even without hair.

“Then why didn’t you present me to trial?” She protested. Between them, Obi-Wan smothered a giggle. He remembered quite well a teenage Anakin, his voice still craking down sometimes from puberty, with exactly the same question, the question outraged Padawan believing themselves ready had asked since the dawn of the Order. Obi-Wan himself hadn’t asked, but Obi-Wan had known he wasn’t ready. Despite what Qui-Gon had told the Council.

“Because then, you would go on missions alone,” Anakin protested, “And you could be hurt.”

“You threw me at a Death Watch Death Squad the other day. Threw me! Like a missile!” She retorted.

“And I knew you would kick their asses. And you did!”

“And you think I would do different if you’re not there to watch? You didn’t help! You just gave points to their efforts to escape me.”

“Well, some of them made a good effort. Even if they failed, efforts should be recognized.”

“It doesn’t-“

It was the laugh that stopped their bickering. A full-bodied, irrepressible laugh. It was simply a laugh, but it was Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan who took his boots off before climbing on an exam table when he had taken a blaster shot to the belly, Obi-Wan who never let more than a small dry laugh escape his lips, because it wouldn’t be proper, or conform to what he believed proper Jedi decorum should be. Obi-Wan was laughing, grinning like a loon, without a care in the world, shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“Master?” Anakin asked, then he squeaked when the other man pulled him closer with an arm around his shoulders, doing the same to Ahsoka with the other arm.

“Master?” the young Tortuga asked in turn.

“We made it,” Obi-Wan said, his face hidden his Anakin’s hair, “We made it.”

And there was such relief in his words. Anakin’s surprise face eased and he put an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist, another around Ashoka, who did the same. He wasn’t exactly surprised. The Death Watch and the attempts on Satine’s life had simply delay the crisis in Obi-Wan, a crisis Ahsoka herself had cried on Anakin’s shoulder and Anakin in Padmé’s arms, a crisis every other Jedi had to confront a day.

“We did it,” he confirmed, his voice comforting and easy, “We did it and you can let go, Obi-Wan. We’re safe, all of us, now.”

And, hiding their Master between them, Ahsoka and Anakin let him laugh and cry.

In a few minutes, Anakin would go fetch Satine, and she would help Obi-Wan find a path for the rest of his life, but for now.

For now, just the three of them, their lineage, their family, was enough.

#satine kryze #obi wan kenobi #obitine #star wars #the clone wars #my fics #fix-it

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letitrainathousandflames-archive · 6 years

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I can’t keep my mouth shut when i’m happy about something so here goes nothing: these are the first 4 pages of the legendary Spongebinks fic

I changed my narrative style a bit because it’s the very first fucking time i write a crack fic have fun now this is a wild fuckin ride

To say that Jar Jar Binks was a strange creature would be an understatement. The Gungan wasn’t amongst the best of his kind. Nor was he amongst the average ones. Truth be told, he was most likely one of the dumbest ones, if not the dumbest of them. His carelessness and adamant desire to help made him a creature with more destructive power than an entire platoon of clone troopers. The Republic should really thank the universe for having him on their side.

Jar Jar was however a military commander, a politician representing his people, and he even had a seat at the Galactic’s senate, because life is just that funny, and if the leader of the Jedi Council can be a tiny, wrinkly green alien that speaks half-backwards sentences, why in the moons wouldn’t that gungan be able to represent his people as Senator Organa did the Alderaanians and Senator Amidala did the Nabooans?

It’s a rhetorical question and you shouldn’t answer it.

Anyway, this particularly destructive gungan with an outstanding ability to put his foot in his mouth both literally and figuratively is an important figure to be highly regarded and in quite a few levels feared. He was on his way along with Y-33T, an astromech that General Skywalker – Senator Amidala’s dear friend – had given to Jar Jar in an act of kindness (truth be told, the thing was showing a lot of malfunctions, but Skywalker couldn’t bear to just throw a droid away, despite the astromech’s nickname being YEET).

On his way where? Well, to spend some nice vacations back in his home of Otoh Gunga, much to his fellow gungans’ uneasiness. However, Binks was a public figure now and he had helped their people by forging their alliance with the then queen - now Senator Padmé Amidala and gathering their army to fight off the Trade Federation advances into their shared homeworld; Boss Nass, the gungan leader, demanded a proper welcome to him on the main halls, and stars, the gungans worked to make it perfect.

Now imagine a beautiful gathering; they had even brought beautiful dried flowers from the surface and scattered them all over, making the whole floor colorful; there were dancers and flags and numbers of acrobatics and even jugglers spinning and tossing sticks with fire on both ends. Imagine Jar Jar waking in the main doors to see all that with a big smile on his amphibian face. Imagine him getting worried about a particular dancer doing backflips and racing towards her to stop her so she wouldn’t get hurt but tripping on his own feet on the way and inadvertently pushing a fire juggler, whose fire stick dropped right next to a dancer’s long skirt. Until the dancer noticed the fire and got to stop, drop and roll - all the while letting out deafening screams - the fire had already caught on the beautiful dried up flowers nearby and was spreading rapidly.

Here’s the thing about gungans – they’re amphibians. Creatures made to survive both underwater and above it, but not in the least made to survive being involuntarily placed on what looked like a barbecue where the main dish was them. People were jumping on top of chairs and tables, but those soon started to burn too. Boss Nass was facepalming on his seat while the staff rushed to activate all the valves to let the water spray from the lake above through the sprinklers on the ceiling.

Fifteen minutes of screaming, fire, children crying and “meesa so sorry!”, everyone was drenched in water and rather pissed at Jar Jar Binks. Which wasn’t anything new at all. Boss Nass just awkwardly clapped with a crooked smile.

“Uh… Thank yousa all for the beautiful performance. Weesa very honored to have representative Binks back with us, right?”

The answer was made of some very sparse clapping punctuated by a gungan juggler sobbing. Boss Nass just scratched the back of his head and signed for his staffers to start cleaning that mess.

“Jar Jar!” he smiled, clearly trying not to think about the whole almost-tragedy “Meesa has important things to discuss with yousa!”

Jar Jar kicked some water off his pants, eyeing the gungan leader curiously as he walked towards him.

“Important things? What things, sir?”

“Ah-n-not today!” Boss Nass exclaimed; he didn’t think he could possibly survive another near catastrophe so soon “Don’t yousa want to rest, hmm? Yousa go home, and tomorrow, we have serious talk.”

Jar Jar cocked his head to the side.

“But meesa just got her—“

“Tomorrow then!” Boss Nass said louder now with a wide smile and an emphatic nod, waving goodbye “Yousa have a good one, eh?”

Kings are not expected to be able to retreat so quickly, but it was like Jar Jar had blinked and the gungan leader was gone. Well then, Jar Jar thought to himself with a shrug, tomorrow it would be, then.

About four smaller incidents later, one of them involving a leak that could potentially inundate the whole city, Jar Jar managed to be back in his home, picking up his suitcase from the gungan that had been sent to help him (who absolutely did not bother waiting for a tip before dashing away from the walking disaster of a gungan).

Jar Jar would sleep on the top floor, but the whole building was his – and it had been quite cheap, too. Jar Jar had thought it had been the salespeople’s kindness to make it so cheap for him but the fact was that actually the price of any place where he lived would immediately drop… no crash down would be the more appropriate word.

Jar Jar looked around with a feeling of nostalgia, and he let Y-33T enter the spacious living room.

“Meesa glad yousa here with meesa, Yeet!”

Y-33T made a chirping robot noise and Jar Jar’s ears twitched.

“Whaddya mean, yousa only did it because Ani told yousa to?” Y-33T made another noise, and Jar Jar beamed all giddy “Ah, ‘cause yousa both meesa and Ani’s friend, eh?”

Y-33T waved its head in what was a clear “no”, but Jar Jar didn’t notice it. Instead, he sat by the window, looking to the underwater landscape and sighing.

“Meesa so ecxited for vacations; it’s been a long long time since meesa’s been back home. And this time, meesa here with a new friend!”

Y-33T just gave up on correcting the gungan, and Jar Jar watched the dark waters outside. The beautiful plants that would grow underwater would move very gently, and an occasional fish would swim around there with their scales shimmering with each movement. Jar Jar sat on a chair, still mesmerized with the waters outside.

“Meesa have many friends, Yeet.” He said pointedly to the astromech “But meesa wanted to have something else too… Something different. Meesa wanted to have someone to love.”

Y-33T rolled closer, whistling softly, and Jar Jar nodded dreamily.

“Yousa right, it woulda be hard to find someone.”

Y-33T peeped.

“Yes, meesa woulda have to look for a long time,” and Y-33T peeped again and Jar Jar nodded “Meesa would have to look for a veeeeery long time.”

***

On the following day, Jar Jar was supposed to a meeting with the Boss Nass very early in the morning. He had been very excited about it the previous night, so excited that he couldn’t fall asleep until it was almost time for him to be actually getting up; he was snoring loudly with one of his large ears draped over his eyes, so he couldn’t even see the clarity filtered through the water by now. His snoring sounded almost like an angry wookie, which just added to why nobody wanted to live in that building.

So there he was, blissfully asleep when Y-33T rolled up very close to his head and started playing a very loud recording of Anakin’s Skywalker complaining as he tried to fix the astromech:

“--this is an absolute DISASTER, ONLY AN IDIOT WOULD KEEP THIS THING AROUND—AN IDIOT- IDIOT-IDIOT—“

Jar Jar jumped up on the bed, ripping the ear from over his eyes:

“Who’s calling meesa?!” he looked down at Y-33T, blinking lazily “Ah.”

“IDIOT- IDIOT- DISASTER-“ Y-33T stopped playing it when Jar Jar pressed a button in front of it, turning the alarm off

“Meesa sleepy.” Jar Jar yawned, plopping back down on the bed and rolling to his side, shutting his eyes “Five more minutes won’t make meesa late.”

He was snoring again in less than thirty seconds, and Y-33T chirped joyfully, sliding a port open from where a stick charged with electricity came out. His target was too easy too. The gungan was lying on his side, his buttocks just impossible to miss. Even the sea turtles swimming on the other side of the glass must’ve heard his scream as he got zapped.

“YOWSA!!”

That woke him up. When Jar Jar actually noticed what time it was by then, he rushed to get his breakfast, which in fact meant walking out of the pressurized doors (they were automatic and one would only open after the other was closed and the space between them, drained; If Jar Jar would be the one to make the process, the whole place would be a coral reef by now), he would grab a fish with a size reasonable with his appetite and would just devour the whole thing before the door would even finish draining for him to come back inside.

Doesn’t it just make you wish that this process would never ever be described again? Too bad it’ll happen another 18 times before this story is through. Such is the burden of those who can read.

Anyway, Jar Jar just put on whatever clothes he had managed not to rip or choke himself with while trying to get dressed and dashed out with Y-33T rolling fast by his side.

YES HE HAS AN ASTROMECH NAMED YEET, I KNOW RIGHT??? THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY I NEVER HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING FIC THANK U SO MUCH Y’ALL WHO CONTRIBUTED AND COMMISSIONED THIS STEAMING PILE OF WHAT THE FUCK

#spongebinks

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jupitermelichios · 6 years

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How I’d fix The Phantom Menace

So I kinda spent 2 hours in the middle of the bloody night fixing Star Wars. Specifically the prequels. See, everyone says the first one is the best of the three, and from a film-making perspective they’re not wrong. But it’s also the foundation stone of the whole trilogy, and in some ways the whole franchise, and as that it is an utter miserable failure. It sets up nothing except that Anakin exists. It adds nothing to the world except Gungans. It doesn’t work. So I rewrote it.

Opening Crawl: Turmoil has engulfed the Galactic Republic. The Trade Federation are exploiting discontent among the planets of the outer-rim, encouraging their rebellion in order to further their own ends.

The Galactic Senate endlessly debate who is to blame, seemingly uncaring that civil war looms. The small planet of Naboo is being blamed by many, after it was revealed that the King Consort has been selling illegal clones to the outer rim as slave labour.

We open in a courtyard of the Naboo Royal palace. The nobles and politicians have gathered to watch the trial of Prince Sci-Fi Name. The queen watches her husband led in in chains, and the charges are read. He is sentenced to death. We briefly cut to nine-year-old Padme, playing alone in her room. Back in the courtyard, the queen announces that she is commuting the sentence to life imprisonment, for the sake of their child and because he is her husband and she once loved him. The Prince declares that he would rather die than owe his life to Amidala Sr, grabs a laser knife or whatever off one of the guards and stabs himself. Cut to Padme, who hears the commotion and runs out to the balcony, looking down at her father's body.

Cut to Trade Federation ship, in orbit around an outer-rim planet. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are negotiating with Viceroy Nute Gunray (only he has a less stupid name this time, and also isn't a Viceroy because that makes no sense when the Trade Federation isn't a monarchy). Qui-Gon is arguing that the Outer-rim planets are obliged to obey the laws of the Republic, and that the Republic protects them. Gunray argues that the Republic doesn't care about them, and also if Naboo can get away with trading clones clearly the law doesn't apply to core planets.

Count Douku tells Gunray via an earpiece to keep stalling, but Qui-Gon senses that something is wrong and calls Gunray on his bullshit. He and a load of battle droids attack the Jedi, who are able to fight him off and escape to their ship.

Cut to Amidala Sr who is in a meeting with her advisors. They are discussing what can be done to repair Naboo's reputation. Amidala says that she will take her husband's place in the senate, but first she must undo the damage he did. She wants to go to the planet where he sold the clones as slave labour and free them. Her advisors beg her to request a Jedi escort, since they are in charge of enforcing law and mediating disputes. She agrees.

Cut to Jedi ship. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan receive a message from the council, giving them order to help Amidala since they're already nearby. Obi-Wan is disappointed to learn that they will be meeting her on her ship, rather than getting to visit Naboo itself, since he's never been. (The impression we want the audience to have is that Naboo is considered remote and exotic by the other core planets.)

Cut to Amidala Sr's ship. The queen greets the Jedi. Obi-Wan is surprised to discover that Padme is also there, but Amidala replies that it is important that her daughter see diplomacy at work. She also says she did not wish to leave Padme at home with only servants for company, and Qui-Gon offers condolences on the loss of her husband.

Cut to int. ship, now on Tatooine's surface. Qui-Gon explains that they have set down near the one of the largest towns. Obi-Wan offers to go into the town to ask around about the clones, but Amidala Sr insists they all go. They leave the 2 other people (generic pilot/guard redshirts) and R2 to watch the ship.

Cut to Mos Espa. The adults are asking about the clones, and not getting anywhere with locals who clearly distrust outsiders and Jedi. Padme is clearly bored, and drifts away to watch a group of children talking about Pod Racing. She asks what Pod Racing is, and they tell her that it's super cool. Then Anakin arrives, and the child introduce him as a star Pod Racer. Padme is impressed, and Anakin offers to show her his Pod. She agrees and they head back to Watto's.

Meanwhile the adults have found what they need and are now frantically searching for the lost princess. Eventually they find her at Watto's, just as Anakin is introducing her to C3PO. Amidala Sr rushes in, hugging her child tightly.

Anakin's mother comes in to see what the noise is about, and is surprised but pleased to see the guests. She comments that while most folk out here don't trust the Jedi, she was raised to believe in the force. Qui-Gon asks about her son, who is strong with the force, and she tells him the whole virgin birth bullshit. Qui-Gon asks to take the boy to train, and she says she would like him to have a better life but she can't sent him away because they're slaves. She also comments that she didn't think children from the outer rim could be Jedi, but Qui-Gon says that while it's unusual, it is the duty of the Jedi to take in any force sensitive children no matter what planet they're from.

Anakin says that it's nearly time for the race, and his mother tries to persuade him not to race. When Amidala Sr asks what Pod Racing is, she gets a very different explanation from Anakin's mother than the one Padme got – Pod Racing is horrifically dangerous, kills most contestants. Amidala Sr is horrified and asks how it is legal for a child to compete. Obi-Wan comments that Pod Racing isn't legal at all, but the Jedi don't have enough people to enforce the ban so it still happens.

Qui-Gon speaks to Watto (who isn't an offensive Jewish stereotype this time around) and tries to claim Anakin as Jedi property, but Watto says Jedi law doesn't apply here. Qui-Gon tries to buy him, but Watto says the boy makes him good money. Also he treats them well for slaves, not like slaves who do hard labour so why should the boy want to go. So instead Qui-Gon bets him that he wins Anakin if Anakin wins his Pod Race.

Cut to Darth Sidious telling Darth Maul that he must go to Tatooine. The Jedi must not be allowed to find the clones, since their existence could endanger the clone labs, which he has plans for.

Pod Racing scene happens more or less as in the original, but with Padme cheering Anakin on along with his friends. He wins, but is heartbroken to discover that this means he must leave his mother. They say tearful goodbyes, and we see Padme comforting him as they walk away. Anakin's mother makes the Jedi swear to treat Anakin kindly, and Amidala Sr says that she will make sure they do.

The group travel to the location of the Clones, only to find they have been slaughtered. The Jedi and guards are attacked by Darth Maul. The guards are killed but the Jedi escape back to the ship, but he follows them, damaging the ship. They are forced to make an emergency landing on a new planet.

Maul follows them, and fires on them but instead nearly hits a passing Gungan. Obi-Wan blocks the blast, saving Jar-Jar's life.

Maul reports to Sidious and he sends an attack force of robots to the planet.

Jar Jar comments that he's surprised a Jedi would save him when everyone knows the Jedi are bad guys who don't care what happens to people on the outer rim. Before they can respond, the first droids arrive and start shooting at them. They run away, arguing about how the Jedi don't care vs the Jedi are understaffed and overstretched and they're doing their best.

Jar Jar realises that he needs to allert the Gungan that an invasion force is coming, and since the Jedi helped him he agrees to take them all with him. They all swim down to Boss Nass's palace. (3PO gets left in the ship with R2). They are made to wait before seeing him, and we get a little bit of light-hearted comedy with awkward silence and Jar Jar being nervous. But we also get a moment when Jar Jar asks Anakin where he's from, and when he starts to answer, Obi Wan cuts him off to say that he's a Jedi now, and they have no home except the temple.

When Boss Nas agrees to see him, they try to persuade him that he needs to fight the Trade Federation bots that are arriving. He argues that they are safe underwater, and why should he care what happens on the surface? They will not be found, and anyway the Trade Federation aren't their best friends or anything but they trade directly with the Gungans, unlike the humans living on the planet who came to take the resources and don't pay for them. Qui Gon tries to argue in favour of the Republic, but Boss Nas and the other Gungan say they don't like the Republic because it abandoned them when the humans came. Then Amidala Sr reveals herself to be a Queen, and says that she will fight for the Gungan's in the senate and get the human settlers evicted.

We cut to the surface, where the robot army is searching for the Jedi, leaving a trail of destruction behind them and killing the human settlers.

Back in the Gungan city, Boss Nas agrees that he will help in exchange for Amidala's support. The Gungans will attack the droids to provide cover while Amidala and Padme go to the Senate to argue the case for the Gungans, and Anakin, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon search for Darth Maul. Anakin and Padme say an emotional farewell and promise that they will always remember one another and will meet again some day.

The Gungan v Droid battle sequence is actually probably the best bit of the original film, striking the right balance of comical and silly with real peril. I'd even keep the bit where Jar Jar gets promoted by accident, because he's a useful character to keep around for the second and third films to provide exposition.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan follow Maul to Sidious's ship, they duel. Qui-Gon is killed. Obi-Wan avenges him. They find out Darth Sidious's name, but nothing else about who he is. With his dying breath, Qui-Gon chages Obi-Wan to train Anakin. Obi-Wan argues that Anakin is too old, and he is too young, it would never be allowed, but Qui-Gon makes him swear.

We then get a stinger scene (could be post credits if desired) where Amidala is telling Palpatine about plight of the Gungans. Palpatine tells her that she's more use to him dead than alive, and force chokes her. This is the first reveal of Palpatine as both Sith and head of the Senate.

The key things here are that we establish Anakin and Padme as equals, and as people with shared life experiences. She’s not his sexy babysitter he has a crush on, she’s a friend. Someone who has experiences some very hard things in her life, and therefore someone he can turn to and confide in in the second and third films.

The other key thing we establish here is the existence of clones and cloning, and we give Obi-Wan a reason to be obsessive about tracking down illegal cloning operations, in the hope of finding the people responsible for Qui-Gon’s death.

And finally, we establish the Jedi as both falible, and fading. These are really the twilight years of the Jedi order - even if Anakin hadn’t gone all evil, I don’t think the order as it is shown in the films would have survived that much longer. They’re understaffed and ineffective. With this version we establish from the beginning that Anakin as a slave from the outer rim has every reason to distrust the Jedi, and once he is one, more reason than most to resent them.

With this foundation, there is much less that needs changing in the second and third films, because they’re building on a solid foundation. Themes and characters have been establish. Jar Jar was only in the film for about a 3rd of it, so audience members over the age of 10 haven’t had a change to develop a seething hatred for him yet. Anakin and Padme’s relationship is something sweet and wholesome that the audience is invested in.

That said, if people are interested I may give the same treatment to the second and third films.

#charlie watches a thing #star wars #the phantom menace #episode 1

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