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thesassypadawan · 1 month

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Sweet Padawan Of Mine (Master Qui-Gon x FemPadawanReader)

Summary: Who would think that Qui-Gon’s sweet, innocent, little padawan liked it rough. That beneath her robes she was so…beautiful.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Dom Qui-Gon, Sub Padawan, painful sex, age gap, and…Qui-Gon’s fat dick. Padawan reader is of age.

- Standing in front of the mirror, you stare at your reflection intently.

- You are Master Jinn’s padawan. His sweet, innocent, little padawan. At least, that’s how the rest of the galaxy sees you.

- Smirking, you slip off his cloak. Revealing a body covered in an array of bruises, bites, and hickeys.

- “Beautiful,” Qui-Gon mutters. Coming to stand behind you, he absolutely towers over your smaller frame. The size difference sends a thrill down your spine. “You are more beautiful than the star filled sky.”

- “Bea-beautiful?” You whisper shyly, a dusting of pink on your cheeks.

- Big hands come to rest on your sore hips. Lips kiss the tender marks that litter your shoulders and neck. “Yes, beautiful. Bruised so perfectly. Forever bearing the evidence of who you belong to.”

- A gasp escapes your lips as he squeezes your thoroughly abused ass. He chuckles darkly at the sound. “Tell me, who is it that you belong to, sweet padawan of mine? Who makes you cry out in ecstasy each night?”

- “You… I belong to you, master,” you whimper. Pressing back into his rough touch. “Inside and out.”

- “Don’t you ever forget that,” Qui growls. Nipping harshly at your neck, making you moan. “Now why don’t we make you more beautiful?”

- “Please,” you beg. Body growing warm. “Please, make me more beautiful for you.”

- Lifting you effortlessly, he sets you on your shared sleep couch. Joining you, he smacks your bottom. Pain rippling through you tenderized flesh as he says the single command of… “Arch.”

- Without hesitation, you obey. Kneeling, your head down and cheek pressed to the mattress. Your back curves, posture perfected under Qui-Gon’s training. Hands splayed out before you, held in place by the force.

- Hips twitch instinctively to his bulbous tip sliding through your wet folds. His pre mixing with your slick, coating his massive cock.

- You’re practically shaking, body still sensitive from the previous night’s escapades. From him fucking you ruthlessly. From anticipation of the sweet ache, the ache that you crave so badly. “Master… Need it…”

- “Shhh, it’s all right. I’ll give you exactly what you need.” Snapping his hips, he buries himself to the hilt. A pleased rumble coming from his chest as you yelp out from the burning stretch.

- His grip on your waist tightens. Yet you stay poised, never faltering. Despite the hard slaps he delivers to your ass and thighs…even your poor clit. Cries of pain escape you.

- “So lovely. Your screams are like music to my ears, little one,” Qui groans. Long fingers digging into your blemished skin, cupping your breasts. Pathetic mewls falling from your lips.

- Your mind is becoming hazy. Thighs are trembling. Walls fluttering and clenching around him. You wonder how much longer you can stay upright, your orgasm fast approaching. All you can do is whine desperately into the sheets.

- Qui-Gon’s grunts fill you ears. You can feel his cock pulsing deep inside of you. His hips bucking wildly, heavy balls slamming against your bottom. “That’s it. Cum for me. Cum…with…me!”

- Squealing out in pleasure, shuddering waves of ecstasy crash through your body. While he moans low, thick spurts of cum filling your pussy. Overflowing, dripping down on your thighs.

- Releasing his force hold on your wrists, you nearly collapse. Hands now holding you gently, kissing lovingly down your spine. Muttering soft praises into your bruised skin. “Beautiful…absolutely beautiful.”

- “Bea-beautiful?” You stammer, the ache beginning to set in.

- “So beautiful for me. With each new mark, your beauty only grows,” he murmurs. His grip slowly tightens. “Shall we add some more then, sweet padawan of mine?”

- “Yes…please, master.” The words barely leave your lips and Qui starts pounding into you again. Further bruising you, marking you forever as his.

#qui gon jinn #qui gon #qui gon jinn x reader #qui gon x reader #star wars qui gon #sw qui gon #qui gon smut #dilf qui gon #qui gon jinn fanfiction #qui gon fanfiction #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #qui-gon jinn #qui-gon #qui-gon jinn x reader #qui-gon x reader

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lamaenthel · 5 months

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Good Big

Obi-Wan's morning meditation is interrupted by a little Togruta youngling who wants some attention.

|AO3|

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn

Total Word Count: 1,443

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Obi-Wan let his mind go as flat and tranquil as the surface of a still pond. It was imperative that he get his thoughts in order before his mission. He reached out, as Master Qui-Gon so often reminded him to do, to the Living Force; he surrounded himself with the soft, green whispers of the plants that echoed through the Room of a Thousand Fountains and used them to anchor himself to the present moment.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

Despite his best efforts to stay in the here and now, doubt crept in like a fog around his presence in the Force. It brought a sticky layer of apprehension with it; was it a warning from the Force about his mission, or something else? It was frustratingly omnipresent. It felt like eyes were watching him from the dark, like bubbles of a cailpeach were breaking upon the surface of a loch. There was no definitive scream of danger he could identify, just a vague sense of dread.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

Obi-Wan rolled his shoulders and straightened his spine. The feeling of being watched intensified and split off into something more tangible; he cracked open his eye and glanced to the right. A bush of aura blossoms shook and he heard a distinct, tiny, ekekeke noise come from somewhere within. He bit down a smile and pretended not to hear it. The bush growled and shook again, then an orange and blue blur launched from within the iridescent flowers and landed on him.

"Hi Bobi!" Ahsoka said, giggling madly. She settled on her back in his lap like a tooka begging for belly scratches and blinked up at him with her big, blue-rimmed porg eyes.

"Hello, mo nighean." Obi-Wan gently booped her nose. "Were you hunting me?"

"No," she said innocently. "Just, um, just making sure nobody else was."

"How very thoughtful of you." Obi-Wan lifted her up, recrossed his legs, then settled her upright in his lap. "And who should we expect to come looking for you? Plo, or Vereixem?"

"Vereixem," she admitted. "I can be here, though. He put up the squashes for me."

"The squashes?" Obi-Wan rapidly searched his memory for what she could possibly be referring to.

"Full of meats." She pointed straight up; Obi-Wan followed her finger to a blue sǫnkë squash with pink stripes hanging from a tree branch high above their heads. He squinted and thought he saw a sausage poking out of one of the hollowed-out sides. "He said I can hunt 'em. I'm not 'posed to hunt the birdies because it, um, it hurts 'em, even if I careful."

Obi-Wan was impressed by the creativity of the casualty-free enrichment activity for the tiny huntress. "Would you like to meditate with me? I've a very important mission to prepare for."

"What's a mission?" Ahsoka asked, tilting her head.

"It's a task that the Council gives a Jedi when they're grown up," Obi-Wan replied. "I'm headed to Naboo. Have you ever heard of Naboo?"

"Naboo?" She slipped her chubby little hand behind his neck and played with his Padawan braid. "I like that name. Naboooo—"

"Yes, Naboo," Obi-Wan chuckled. "Perhaps I should bring you along. We can use your Empathy to make trade negotiations smoother, hmm?"

"Negoshins?" Ahsoka asked worriedly. Her face screwed up in thought. "I don't know what they is."

"It's when people want to do things in different ways, but they can only do it one way," Obi-Wan explained. "So they have to talk it out and decide what's fair for everyone."

"Oh." Ahsoka still looked worried, but she raised her chin bravely. "If you, um, you need my help with 'em, then I help."

"It would make things easier, but I believe Master Qui-Gon and I will be able to handle them." Obi-Wan rested his chin between her montral nubs. "I leave in a few hours. Would you like to help me meditate, or would you prefer to keep hunting your squashes?"

"How long will you be gone?" Ahsoka asked, disappointment heavy in the Force around her.

"I don't expect the negotiations to take too long. A few days, perhaps."

"Then I can help you, with, um, do this." Ahsoka closed her eyes and matched his breathing. "There is no emotion, there is peace."

"Good girl." Obi-Wan pressed a kiss between her montrals before he closed his eyes and allowed the Living Force to envelop him again; this time, with a small, purring anchor in his lap emanating happiness in a way that felt oddly… blue. "Is that you helping, mo nighean?" he asked her with a quiet chuckle.

"You wanted help, so I give you special 'Soka help," she said. She brushed his arm hair back and forth against the grain with careful little fingers. "I not pushin', don't worry."

"I didn't think you were pushing, dearest," Obi-Wan assured her.

" 'Cause we talked about it and you said it wasn't nice." Ahsoka craned her head back and looked at him upside down. "I don't push feelings anymore."

"That's because you're a very good girl who listens." Obi-Wan kissed her nose, making her giggle. "But why are you giving me special 'Soka help?"

Ahsoka reached up and gently touched the mole on his forehead. "You got all buzzy and… and, um, light. White, I mean. Why you nervous, Bobi?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I just have a feeling that something very big is about to happen."

"Bad big, or good big?"

Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek. "Both, I think," he said softly. "It's hard to say right now."

"I think it'll be good big," Ahsoka decided. "It's gonna be really, really good, and it'll make us smile and make us happy."

"I certainly hope so." Obi-Wan suddenly felt the strong urge for a nap, but its abruptness made him suspect that it wasn't an urge that belonged to him. "Are you tired, mo nighean?"

"No," Ahsoka lied, yawning.

"Mmm. I think maybe you're a little more—"

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's voice was so unexpected that it made him jump. "Didn't you tell me you were coming here to meditate?"

"I did, Master," Obi-Wan said defensively, immediately blushing. "I got a bit… distracted, is all."

"Mmm. You seemed to have picked up a little tick again. I did warn you about going through the brush, did I not?" Qui-Gon's hair fell forward around his face as he bent over. "Hello, Ahsoka."

"Hi, Kai-Gon," Ahsoka said cheerily. Though her Basic had strongly improved since she had come to the Temple a year ago, she hadn't quite mastered the first syllable of his Master's name yet.

"Are you distracting my Padawan, little one?" Qui-Gon put his hands out to pick her up.

"No, I helpin'," she insisted, settling on his hip. "Special 'Soka help."

"Ah. The very best kind." Qui-Gon rubbed his nose against hers gently and made her laugh. "Vereixem asked me if I'd seen her when I arrived. Given that I knew you had come here to meditate, Obi-Wan, I had a feeling that she wouldn't be far." He looked down his nose at her knowingly. "It's nap time for you."

"Not tired!" Ahsoka protested, fighting not to yawn again.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "That, little tick, is a fight you'll have to have with Vereixem. Now say goodbye to Obi-Wan."

Ahsoka reached a hand down to Obi-Wan. "Bye, Bobi," she said sadly.

Obi-Wan kissed her fingers. "Goodbye, little one."

" 'Member, it's a good big." She waved at him over Qui-Gon's shoulder as he walked away with her, taking away the warm blue feeling of happiness with them.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the Force. By the time his Master returned, he'd begun to gently float a few inches off the ground. "So what is this, ah, good big I've heard about?" Qui-Gon asked lightly as he rejoined him.

"I'm not sure," Obi-Wan answered honestly. "I have a feeling things are going to change, Master, but I'm not sure for the better."

Qui-Gon crossed his legs on the ground across from him with a quiet grunt. Obi-Wan could tell by the way he leaned to the side that his back was bothering him today. "Stay in the present, Obi-Wan. The Force decides what will come next. All we can do is make sure that we are in the place where it needs us the most, and that we let it guide our hands when the time comes."

"Of course, Master." Obi-Wan bowed his head and ignored the way that the loch in his mind bubbled.

MÁOR-GRASTA TRANSLATIONS

Mo nighean: my girl

Cailpeach: an equine ambush predator that lives in lakes, native to Stewjon

MORE NOTES

Vereixim: Veh-RAY-shim

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @soliloquy-of-nemo

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

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starjones-on-ao3 · 1 year

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Shout-out to fanfic writers from twenty years ago...

One late night in December 1999, I stumbled by chance of a Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan slash story. I didn’t know fanfic was a thing, and suddenly I found myself in the most wonderful rabbit hole. I quickly switched to reading het featuring one or both of my favorite hunks.

This was at a time where you either read the stories on your home computer, or printed them. None of them can be found online now. They were from various Geocities websites, Yahoo Groups, Listservs, defunct archives such as Jedi Hunks, Corellia, and others...

I gradually stopped reading fanfiction a few months after I had started. But through the years and many moves, I kept my precious binder with my favorite stories, even if I was not going to open it for years at a stretch.

I wanted to aknowledge the work of some writers whose names I can track in my binder : Emmy, Ambur, Kayla, Eiluned, Jenn.

To you dear writers, thank you :)

#fanfiction readers #fanfiction writers #Ao3 #star wars fandom #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #obi wan fanfiction #qui gon and obi wan #Qui gon jinn fanfiction #qui gon fanfiction #smut fanfiction #quiobi

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fanfic-obsessed · 2 months

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No Memories, Just Vibes

There is a part of the Jedi Apprentice series that has sparked two different ideas, of which this is the first.

Early in one of the books, before Obi Wan is taken as a padawan, Qui Gon Jinn witnesses a duel between him and another initiate. Qui Gon perceives that these two pre teens (if I remember correctly, Obi Wan is a few weeks away from turning 13 and Bruck Chun was a few months to a year younger) are too angry and tells Obi Wan that he is destined to fall, that training Obi Wan would be a waste of time.

As traumatizing as this speech is, when we take into account Obi Wan’s entire story it is also, objectively, the single most hilarious thing that Qui Gon Jinn could say to Obi Wan Kenobi.

From this Two ideas were born.

IDEA 1

The first is that as soon as Qui Gon tell Obi Wan that he is destined to fall, the Force drops post Death Star Qui Gon into current time Qui Gon’s head. Except there are no memories, just vibes. So between one moment and the next Qui Gon goes from ‘I will not teach you. Get away from me’ to ‘this is my baby padawan, my little boy! Isn’t he precious?’.

And the Masters watching, particularly those responsible for assigning the Master/Padawan pairs, go ‘we were going to let you take the baby, until just now. Now we need do a psych eval’

And Obi Wan (twelve years old) is a mix of emotions that he is not sure there is a word for. Ten minutes ago he was hopeful that Qui Gon Jinn would take him as a padawan. Three minutes ago the same master shattered that hope and left him devastated. Now the Master who devastated him is now hugging him and babbling about a padawan braid and how Obi Wan is his son.

Nothing makes sense.

Eventually, after innumerable medical and psychological tests, Qui Gon is allowed to take Obi Wan as a Padawan. At some point, during the evaluations, Qui Gon comes to two ‘realizations’ (based on nothing but vibes). The first is that he decides that Obi Wan must be the chosen one, but Qui Gon cannot tell anyone, believing that Qui Gon would not be allowed to teach him (left over vibes from the High council not letting him take Anakin as a Padawan) and to not put excess pressure on the baby. He also decides that Obi Wan’s goodness (the vibe that Obi Wan is incapable of falling) is just what is needed to bring Xanatos back to the light.

It should be noted that Qui Gon communicates this plan poorly to Obi Wan, who perceives that Qui Gon took him on to be bait for Qui Gon’s fallen former padawan. Obi Wan, though lacking in much of the trauma that we associate with him, is fairly fatalistic and just shrugs, thinking ‘well, this might as well happen’.

As soon as Qui Gon is released from medical, he takes himself and his shiny new padawan haring across the galaxy looking for Xanatos. It takes long enough to find him that Feemor hears about what is going on and, out of concern for the child involved, goes to find them. When he arrives Qui Gon is waving Obi Wan at Xanatos going ‘I got you a baby brother.’

Feemor, somehow both too young and too old for this shit, goes ‘For Kriffs sake, Qui Gon’ and briefly steals Obi Wan.

At some point Obi Wan and Xanatos bond enough that the next time that Xanatos tells Qui Gon that Xan is going to kill him, Obi Wan pipes up saying that Qui Gon was the only master ho would take him and Obi wan really wants to be a Jedi.

Xanatos now has a new mission, to find a new Master for his little brother, so he can go back to trying to murder Qui Gon. (For handwavy reasons, we’ll call it the repudiation, Feemor is not allowed to take Obi Wan as a Padawan-Xanaots asked).

So now we have the weirdest chase in history. Qui Gon is vibing and chasing Xanatos. Xantos is leading Qui Gon on a chase and looking for another Jedi Master without getting skewered (because of the darksider thing). Obi Wan is being dragged along with Qui Gon, hoping that he gets to learn something about being a jedi before he is killed? He is not even sure. Feemor is following Qui Gon and Obi Wan, occasionally confiscating Obi Wan, because he is not sure anyone should be exposed to this much Qui Gon over any length of time.

They are also utterly ignoring both the senate and the Jedi council. Well Feemor and Qui Gon are ignoring the Jedi Council and the Senate. Xanatos, since he is not part of the Jedi Order any longer, is not bound to either. Obi Wan is actually filling out the required reports to the best of his abilities but the information boils down to ‘We continue to ignore the assigned mission, I am thirteen (having had a birthday in the interim) and cannot change that. Feemor is quite kind when he abducts me.’

You may or may not have guessed but this clusterfuck lands on Galidraan. Just before the fighting between Jango Fett’s True Mandalorians and Dooku’s Jedi is due to erupt. Qui Gon wanders through the tense standoff, stops and with no context whatsoever goes ‘Oh, everyone here is being tricked’. With him is thirteen year old Obi Wan, a tiny child. Xanatos, who beat them to the planet by about an hour strides dramatically as fuck from the other side of the potential battlefield shouting out ‘Qui Gon Jinn, you ass…’ before clocking the Jedi and going ‘Jedi’.

Feemor also lands and exits his ship from yet another direction, already looking like he had a headache, going ‘Qui Gon, what he Kriff’.

Now the tense standoff between the Madalorians and the Jedi is derailed as everyone involved goes from violent rage to baffled rage. Also everyone recognizes that there is now a kid on the battlefield and no one wants to be the one to fight a tiny child. This does eventually defuse things enough that contacts can be exchanged and everyone gets to realize that the governor is the asshole.

Qui Gon refuses to elaborate (and frankly is unable to elaborate, he has no information only vibes) on the ‘Everyone is being tricked’ thing. Or what he meant when he wandered up to Jango Fett, peered at him, and told him ‘You’re not the right one, but I won’t hold it against you’ (what Qui Gon means, even if he doesn’t realize it, is that Jango is not Cody). At some point or another during the time that they are figuring this out, everyone in the combined party of Jedi/Darksiders/Mandalorians/Other says ‘For Kriffs sake, Qui Gon’ (This includes two Deathwatch prisoners captured during the campaign).

Throughout this Xanatos keeps trying to corner other Jedi to get them to take on Obi Wan, except he is also not great at communicating his intentions, so it is perceived that he is trying to get rid of Obi Wan so that he can have Qui Gon to himself. No one is willing to question any further, though most are a little freaked out.

IDEA 2

The second idea is not quite as detailed. It’s a Read/Watch the series. Again we start from Qui Gon telling Obi Wan that he is destined to fall. The Force pulls everyone (initiates, knights, Masters, and the Council members) in the area outside of time where they watch the Movies and shows (Starting with TPM and watching in chronological Order: The prequels, The Clone Wars, Kenobi, the OT) with a focus on Obi Wan Kenobi.

So everyone gets to go ‘Oh, Obi Wan is actually awesome’. Except of course for Obi Wan, who nearly has a breakdown believing that this is proof that he should not be a Jedi knight (somehow convinced that the Purge/Order 66 is actually his own fault).

So now Obi Wan has a plethora of Masters who want to train him (including Qui Gon, who again believes that Obi Wan must be the Chosen One) , additional trauma of survivor's guilt before the events that he survived, and a shiny new appointment with the mind healers. He also has the admiration of the initiates that had previously bullied him.

The Jedi council is able to piece together enough information on the Sith to try and change things, with varying results.

#star wars #star wars au #obi wan kenobi #fanfiction prompt #qui gon jinn #qui gon and obi wan #xanatos du crion #feemor #jango fett #yan dooku

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giotanner · 7 months

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Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Master Qui-Gon Jinn | 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥

Cover art for Tautology of Loss by ScarletJedi on AO3 | @qobb

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#obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #anakin skywalker #star wars #giotanner #ahsoka #qui gon and obi wan #master and apprentice #star wars art #illustration #quiobi #drawing #quiobi big bang 2023 #my art #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanart #obi wan needs a hug

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cerulianvermillion · 11 months

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Jedi culture is so fascinating... I'd love a post-war everything is okay AU where we get a taste of Jedi culture. Not the clone wars-era jedi culture that we know of...but actual jedi culture. Like the one obi-wan grew up with, something ahsoka and even anakin never got to experience because of the war. Like the ones we see in the books about obi-wans padawan years, of course, combining canon and legends in a way that makes sense- maybe we can have the younger ones of the disaster lineage learn a bit about Tahl, more Tahl is always a good idea. Maybe we can delve into Mace and Qui-gon's years of padawanship and being initiates- or maybe even old jedi culture, the one Yoda is familiar with.

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thedynamicworm · 5 months

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I see all your “anakin was found by the sith as an infant” AUs and raise you:

Everything’s the same in Star Wars except the roles for the main cast in TPM are reversed (ie. Qui gon and obi wan are sith, while darth maul is a Jedi, though the Jedi order is still the same) but the events still play out largely the same (maul kills qui gon, obi wan takes anakin on as his apprentice, with palpatine keeping a close eye on his training, though the rule of two would be pretty much ignored by palpatine here, and padme is still saved, this time by maul). Basically the entire disaster lineage are sith in this, barring yoga and ahsoka. I want ahsoka to still be a Jedi in this, so maybe she’s mauls apprentice here.

I can see Obi wan still becoming a general, maybe he is masquerading as a regular military general, so he still gets to interact with the clones. When obi wan is sent to infiltrate the army, palps ends up taking anakin as his full apprentice. Also, I want ahsoka to be the one to

This can either make the prequels more tragic or less tragic, depending on how it plays out. The cast could have something like an almost redemption arc, only to have it ripped away at the last moment, falling back into darkness.

Or, by the end of the clone wars, with Padmes pregnancy and ahsoka convincing him, anakin turns back to the light, killing Palpatine. By this point, Obi wan would have already been secretly turned by either Cody or maul (yes I am a multishipper), so he’s also becoming a Jedi with anakin.

Yeah, I don’t really know where I’m going with this, so anyone feel free to add on :)

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mostthingskenobi · 8 months

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THE JEDI AND HIS DUCHESS

SUMMARY: Satine Kryze is a pacifist because of the Mandalorian civil war. But the idea first takes root in her mind after watching something terrible happen to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The story of how Obi-Wan and Satine fell in love when they were young, and how their feelings reemerged when they reconnected during the Clone Wars.

Told in dual timelines. Graphic Violence. Takes place pre Phantom Menace/post Clone Wars episode Duchess of Mandalore.

TEASER:

“Calm yourself, young one.” Qui-Gon’s large hands stroked her cheekbones. “Where is Obi-Wan?” She stared at him with wild eyes, tears still running down her face. “They took him.” Qui-Gon’s look changed instantly, his features fell as fear gripped his heart. “Where?” “Down the mountain, by the river.” “Who was it?” “Five bounty hunters. Obi-Wan could sense them coming. He told me to run.” Her chin began to tremble. “But I heard him scream so I went back.”

SPECIAL NOTE 09/01/23: A friend recently told me that Star Wars now says Obi-Wan and Satine were 15 years old when they met. I was shocked to hear this, so I researched it myself. In a recent article on StarWars.com, they do, in fact, claim this. When I started writing this fic many years ago I did extensive research into Obi-Wan's timeline. I wanted to make sure I was getting everything right. By the time he reconnected with Satine during the Clone Wars he was 35. It had been approximately 15 years since they had seen each other. That puts him around 20 years old. I don't know why Star Wars decided to change this particular detail, but I want it known that I would never write a story like this about children. I always intended Obi-Wan and Satine to be 20-ish years old (aka consenting adults) in this fic. So, no matter what canon says, please know Obi-Wan and Satine are 20 years old in the flashbacks of this story.

READ IT ON AO3 - Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1

READ CHAPTER 2

READ CHAPTER 3

READ CHAPTER 4

READ CHAPTER 5

READ CHAPTER 6

READ CHAPTER 7

READ CHAPTER 8

READ CHAPTER 9

READ CHAPTER 10

READ CHAPTER 11

READ CHAPTER 12

READ CHAPTER 13

READ CHAPTER 14

READ CHAPTER 15

READ CHAPTER 16

READ CHAPTER 17

READ CHAPTER 18

READ CHAPTER 19

READ CHAPTER 20

READ CHAPTER 21

READ CHAPTER 22

READ CHAPTER 23

READ CHAPTER 24

READ CHAPTER 25

READ CHAPTER 26

READ CHAPTER 27

READ CHAPTER 28

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thesassypadawan · 4 months

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It's Exciting (Master Qui-Gon x KnightReader)

Summary: It’s been more than a hot minute since you’ve seen a certain dilf jedi master and you’re in need of Qui bad. What started out as a sweet reunion, quickly turns into something more heated.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni). A little bit of the fluff and a bit of the smut.

You hadn’t seen him in months. Sent off on another crazy mission with his faithful padawan. He wasn’t allowed contact with anyone during his travels, not even the Council.

You tried your best not to worry about him, he was more than capable of taking care of himself. However, that didn’t mean you still missed and needed him terribly. Needless to say, when you caught wind of him returning today…you made sure to send a message via private commlink. “Come find me, Master Jinn. You know where to look.”

Now here you sat, tucked away in a very secluded corner of one of the temple’s many gardens. Hidden by lumbering trees and a cascading wall of flowering vines. This was your secret spot, the place where you two always met after a mission or when you wanted to be alone with one another. And alone you still were, even as twilight began to settle in the sky.

“Where is he?” You grumbled to yourself. You had been trying to pass the time, but were failing miserably. Your mind was too clouded with thoughts of him…of what you were going to do now that he had returned.

Breathing deeply, you tried to tamper down your unrestfulness. “Calm down, he will come,” you muttered reassuringly. “Relax.”

Just then, you felt a subtle shift in the force. A gentle wind swirled around you and the concealing curtain of foliage parted.

Standing before you, hands on his hips, was none other than…

“Now relaxing sounds like a good idea to me,” Qui-Gon playfully said.

A grin crossed your face and your eyes fluttered open. “Well, took you long enough.”

He smiled softly back and, with a slight wave of his hand, closed the opening behind him. “Sorry, the debriefing with the Council was lengthier that I had hoped.”

“I’m only joking,” you giggled. Giving your leg a quick pat, you added. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters. So why don’t you stay awhile and rest for a spell.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he chuckled. Needing no further encouragement, Qui sat down beside you and happily laid his head in your lap. He then let out a content sigh. “You have no idea of how much I missed this.”

Gazing down at him lovingly, you began to gently stroke his hair. “Oh, I don’t know,” you mused. “I think I might have a bit of a clue.”

Reveling in your touch, he practically purred. “Stars, you spoil me, little one.”

Biting your lip, you could feel the warmth rise up inside of you. It spread to your cheeks and other regions. That kriffing name got you every time and he knew it.

“It’s exciting to have me back, isn’t it?” Qui-Gon muttered seductively.

“Whatever do you mean?” You coyly asked, trying to act like you weren’t already soaking wet for him.

Tapping the side of his nose, he smirked up at you. “You can’t hide it. I know that heavenly scent all too well.”

Squirming from his words, the heat intensified. “Is that so?”

He pressed his face to your aching core and inhaled deeply. “Yes, sweeter than a milla flower…and all mine.”

You let out a small moan, as he gave your thigh a gentle nip. “Qui,” you whispered, fingers lacing through his locks. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why? I only speak the truth.” Taking your other hand, he pressed a kiss to your palm and then placed it on top of the considerable bulge in his pants. “You are as much mine. As I am yours.”

Your eyes gleamed with a hungry glint. “Oh, my. Is this all for me?” You teased, giving his thick cock a firm squeeze.

Bucking his hips up into your touch, he lustfully growled. “All for you, dear one…to do whatever you please.”

Leaning down, you captured his lips into a passionate kiss. One that he deepened by placing a large hand on the back of your neck and sliding his tongue into your mouth. It was brief, yet it left you both breathless and craving more.

“What I please,” you panted, forehead pressed to his. “Is to show you how much I missed you. Over and over again…until neither of us can move.”

You could see it, something snapped deep inside of him. “Well then, let’s not wait a minute longer.”

The next thing you knew, Qui-Gon had you thrown over his shoulder and was racing through the garden.

“Qui, slow down!” You giggled, trying your best to hold on. “What if someone catches us?!”

“Then I’ll tell them I’m rushing you to an urgent meeting in my room!” He laughed back, giving your butt a good smack.

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liam-neesons-best-girl · 1 month

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Caught {Qui-Gon Jinn x Reader}

Summary: You and Qui-Gon share an intimate morning that gets interrupted by Anakin who harbors a secret crush for you.

Warnings: 18+, mdni, F! reader, breastsucking, nipple play, being caught in the act, age gap (Qui-Gon is in his 40s, reader in their 20s, Anakin in his 20s), angst, nsfw

You were the first to wake. Eyes called open from the warmth of the sun cascading through the large window pane of Qui-Gon's bedroom. You stir from where you laid on your back to now face the handsome Jedi as he sleeps, free from stress and disturbances.

What better way to wake up than with kisses? You thought. Ever so lightly, you press soft pecks over his cheeks, chin, jaw, forehead and lastly on his lips. The final peck seems to pull him from the depths of his dreams and flutter his eyes open to see the goddess he has managed to call his own.

He couldn't help but stare at you. The sun projecting a hallow of light around your head. Skin so soft and warm from slumber, naked from the previous night's activities. He lazily kissed you back, mixing in words of affirmation and silly pet names.

As your movements became more passionate, you decide to sit up and lean your body over Qui-Gon to continue kissing and grant him access to fondle your plush breasts. The blanket that was once covering you slipped down to pool at the base of your hips.

Qui-Gon used his large hands to run down the length of your back to feel as much of you as possible. His kisses to your mouth turned to kisses and sucking at your nipples, causing your back to arch, pushing your ample breasts further into his face.

So enraptured by the feeling, your senses were delayed as you turned seconds after you heard the large wooden door creak open to see Anakin there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

His eyes were as wide as could be and the heaving of his chest was notable to you across the room. He couldn't look away from the ethereal figure before him.

He had always thought of you as beautiful but this was a revelation to him. You looked like the marble statues he saw in museums. You had the supple breasts of a breastfeeding mother, the tousled hair of a woman freshly fucked and the glow of an angel.

You however were mortified and screamed as if you were running around with you head cut off. Instantly dropping down into Qui-Gon's embrace you shake from self-consciousness and he grips you tight to his chest.

Now aware of the pain you are feeling and angry he has towards the young Jedi, Qui-Gon falls back on his protective nature and is darkened with rage.

"Anakin you must leave at once!" Qui-Gon all but barked at Anakin, which was enough to shake him from his thoughts of desire and envy to leave the room running.

All Anakin is thinking about is you. I want to be under her as she kisses me awake. I want to softly caress her skin, only I touch. I want to claim her as mine.

Turning his attention back to you, Qui-Gon hears your sniffles and hiccupped breathing. You were trembling with embarrassment.

Qui-Gon coos you up from the cave you dug between his chest and arm to reveal your red eyes and puffy lips. Qui-Gon held you close. His arms felt like a sanctuary of warmth and reassurance while he gently stroked your back in soothing circles, whispering words of love and understanding.

Later on he will give Anakin a stern talking to and remind him of the importance of privacy but for now, the two of you will lay in bed sharing a level of intimacy designed for only two souls.

Qui-Gon's thoughts are loud, but he picks up on louder ones coming from Anakin who is stoked with desire and craving a moment alone with you.

#liam neeson #liam neeson fan fiction #qui gon jinn #liam neeson x reader #liam neeson fan fic #qui gon jinn x reader #star wars #qui-gon jinn x reader #qui gon #love actually #star wars fan fiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #jealous anakin #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin x fem reader

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starjones-on-ao3 · 1 year

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Qui-Gon : the OG man with thick fingers, a commanding presence and a deep gravelly voice

#No this isn't a picture of Jesus #I'm so sorry Mr. Neeson #Qui gon jinn fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #smut fanfiction #Party like it's 1999

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fanfic-obsessed · 10 months

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What the Fuck

You know, I have a fair amount of fondness for what could be considered light Qui Gon bashing, specifically in regards to how he raised Obi Wan. I wonder if any of you could tell?

Along those lines I there is one thing I would love to see more of, the High Council finding out much later (like during the war) the fucked up parts of Obi Wan’s padawanship and just go ‘Fucking what????’

Walk with me for a minute while I explain. Also this is an idea for an AU not a commentary on any version of cannon.

There are 10,000 Jedi. There is no way the high council could be personally involved with all the Master Padawan pairs, not to mention not all the members during the war were members during Obi Wan’s padawan years. So let’s start from the premise that Qui Gon and Obi Wan had the normal amount of interaction with the High Council. This is, in part, because Qui Gonn lies like a rug for 90% of their reports to make them seem more normal than they actually are. In this idea Qui Gon is also at the very least emotionally abusive and negligent, if not physically abusive as well.

So Obi Wan grows up thinking things like being left in a Cantina for hours to days is normal Master behavior, or being lost in bet (both intentionally to track slave rings and just because Qui Gon did not have as good a hand as he thought), or being forced to meditate his needs away for days, or the crippling anxiety that Qui Gon seemed to be deliberately instilling. Obi Wan never does these things to Anakin (Obi Wan just cannot convince himself to treat Anakin like he was treated, but justifies it to himself that it was Anakin that had the strange padawanship because he came to the temple too late and too early. He does always feel like a failure of a master for the fact that he couldn’t do it).

Obi Wan doesn’t talk about it to other Jedi, not out of shame but out of the sincerely held belief that every padawan faced the same, that it would be boring. He does not tell Anakin because he does not want to make his padawan feel bad for having a strange padawanship.

He does give utterly horrifying answers to any member of his battalion that asks questions about his padawan years, which convinces the clones that the Jedi need to be protected from themselves.

Now that we have set the stage, I think this should be a random time not tied to any specific set of events. Though It should be after Ahsoka is assigned to Anakin. I kind of want the Anakin, Ahsoka, Cody, and Rex present and the High council has just finished the “official” part of the meeting and have moved on to just chatting, or maybe it was before the meeting began, or perhaps it is semi official where they are talking about some Cantina in the mid rim that would be useful in an upcoming mission.

No matter the situation, Obi Wan fondly reminisces about the proprietor and how they (the proprietor, Obi Wan, and some of the regulars) had worked out a routine where Obi Wan would lure in slavers that targeted children, the proprietor would drug them, and the regulars would steal their things and figure out where they were hiding their ‘product’.

There is confused silence among the jedi present. At last Plo Koon goes ‘I know you looked young without your beard, but I didn’t think it was that young’ while thinking that he didn’t think he was that bad at judging near human ages.

Obi Wan laughs and goes ‘oh no. This was when I was 14, though I was a bit stunted after Melida/Daan so I did look a few years younger. Master Jinn like to gamble around the corner whenever we had a mission that brought us to that sector, he got great tips about the slave trade. I was so scrawny that I didn’t make good collateral until I was 16. So he left me in the Cantina’. He then muses thoughtfully that the proprietor always seemed angry with Master Jinn when he came to collect Obi Wan.

There is a dead silence, every member of the High Council turned silently to stare at Obi Wan. Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex looked shocked while Cody looked somewhere between tired and murderous as he stared into the middle distance.

Mace Windu asks, in that careful voice people can get where they don’t want to let on that there is anything wrong, about being ‘collateral’. Obi Wan answers with the air of someone who thinks their experience is much more universal than it was. Every answer he gives sparks more questions and more horror.

Obi Wan is so used to thinking that his experiences were universal that it takes him several questions before he realizes that no one is reacting as if this is normal. He starts to try and explain, you know trying to make himself understood because he assumes that it is merely him explaining badly, which makes it worse and worse and worse. Anakin is near hyperventilating because that was decidedly not how his own padawan years went (and explained some of the strange questions that Cody has asked him over the years).

Cody is actually relieved that the Jedi appear to be just as horrified over all of this as the clones were.

Each and every other member of the High council is both internally and visibly going ‘Fucken what????!!!’ with every statement Obi Wan is making. Just a straight up hour of being horrified, not evening being able to move onto guilt that no one noticed because of the sheer volume of WTF. Interspersed with various Jedi thinking about how they are going to need to get a therapist that is dedicated specifically to Obi Wan, and probably a therapist for the therapist to avoid burnout.

#star wars the clone wars #star wars au #fanfiction prompt #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #mace windu #star wars #mentions of abuse #qui gon jinn bashing #mentions of sentient trafficking

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cerulianvermillion · 11 months

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Do the jedi have like. the star wars equivalent of sword dances? I mean lightsaber fights already look like dances, but like what about the ones that are actually intended to be dances? like imagine dancing with a lightsaber- that would be sooo pretty to look at. I imagine that obi-wan isn't like super good or an expert or anything, but there's a couple that he knows and loves and does really well, especially when he's on his own. Qui-gon was really good at many and taught him to do them and it stuck, and on those nights he was grieving he just dances listening to the force. Nobody dances quite like obi-wan, though. Like he doesn't know a lot of dances but he's really really good on the ones he does know, and plus points to the fact that obi-wan is probably also musically inclined.

Anakin is really good, too, like qui-gon, he caught it much more easily than obi-wan did. It probably started out as him accidentally seeing obi-wan do it when he was younger, and then trying to emulate and failing lmao, and then it became like, and alternative way of meditating for Anakin? like at some point Obi-wan realized that dance could totally work as a way of moving meditation and decided to teach anakin himself and enroll him in classes, and I think anakin would really get into it especially during the war. Padme would like it, she has an eye for stuff like this so sometimes she helps point out details to anakin.

Ahsoka learns from anakin because anakin is definitely the type to add sword dance into ahsoka's curiculum, but he prefers teaching her himself because he just so happens to be really good at it. Ahsoka would like it! like she's not as into it as anakin is but sometimes she practices when there's a lot on her mind or like, when she wants to show the clones what she learned. oh, the clones would absolutely enjoy watching ahsoka dance, and ahsoka would totally convince anakin to do it with her. Sometimes they'd convince obi wan. When she leaves the order she still practices, it's her way of staying connected even though she'd never come to realize it herself. And when (if?) the whole oder 66 thing happens, the sword dance is one of the few jedi culture bits that not many outside of the order knows, and she preserves it.

I like to think that she'll teach luke, one day. like maybe directly, or maybe she'll leave him a set of holo-recordings that he finds, and then luke would try to emulate and learn, and because he's Padme's and Anakin's son, he'd catch on and learn quickly. It won't be a perfect imitation, so Luke just uses his gut (the force) and adds new bits into the missing portions of the dance. He'd teach leia too, like leia is not super interested as luke is, but this specific aspect is actually super fascinating to her, so maybe she'll learn a bit, while also assisting him in doing some research about it. It surprised her how it helps her clear her mind.

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yourneighborhoodporg · 4 months

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The Guardian

Chapter 9: Ancient Implements

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, banter, medical scans/lingo, reference to injuries, exhausted Reader, descriptions of violence, anxious/concerned Obi :(

Summary: Following a rainy conversation, Obi-Wan accompanies you to the Jedi Infirmary in hopes of finding some answers about your condition from Healer Rig Nema. Consequentially, in the face of new discoveries and futile coping mechanisms, the Master Jedi is driven to finally intervene. Through an unconventional strategy, nonetheless.

Song Inspo: Broad-Shouldered Beasts — Mumford & Sons

Words: 9.4k

A/n: Hope everyone celebrating enjoyed New Year’s! Some references to events/thoughts in Star Wars: Wild Space here. No context needed, just some short moments not covered in the Prequels/TCW. So, this chapter very much sets us up for the absolute DOOZY that is the next one, so best to buckle up LOL. My bad about the delay in this one. I had to teach myself brain chemistry 🤪 (sorry to any med students reading in advance). Made up for it in length 💀

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Series Masterlist

The earth laughs in flowers — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Obi-Wan reclined, allowing his back to press against the inner glass of one of the Infirmary’s privacy dividers as he folded his arms snugly across his chest.

Internally, the Master Jedi was hoping to disguise the slight unease that crawled up and down his spine for deep concentration, furrowing his brows as if he’d entered a profound state of thought or meditation.

But no matter how carefully he postured impressions of levelheadedness in the face of your paled features, Obi-Wan couldn’t ignore the low thrum of concern that occasionally tugged on his sternum. He couldn’t help but feel the air around him thicken from newly discovering a weeks-long affliction impacting The Guardian.

Impacting you.

A being, that if ever unwell, could place a critical prophecy in jeopardy.

A being, on account of those responsibilities, he promised to protect.

It was to the point where his steadily swelling desire for some answers had languished passing minutes into what seemed like hours. All while he waited across from you for your examination to be completed.

However, once Kenobi glanced at the chronometer’s green glow on the opposite side of the observation room, he soon realized the actuality of how much time had elapsed. Obi-Wan couldn’t believe it’d only been twenty minutes since he escorted you to the Infirmary. Twenty minutes since you were both welcomed with open arms by one of the Temple’s prime physicians, Master Rig Nema, at the facility’s main entrance.

As a Healer known not to waste time, she immediately submitted an inquiry into why you were visiting. But it wasn’t until Master Nema took in your slightly sluggish form, that the doctor was quick to usher you both into a private cubicle, barely enabling the bearded Jedi to finish his symptomologicol report as he was whisked away alongside you.

Clearly, the presence of painful headaches pervading for weeks on end had stoked the Master Healer’s intrigue just as equally as it steamed Obi-Wan’s smoldering wariness. A fascination so zealous, that she pointed to and instructed the infirmary’s only two available medical droids to carry out a number of cranial scans as you all walked down the hall. Their wheeling bodies materializing by your side once the three of you entered one of the far observation rooms. Whirling and weaving to gather that first set of images before you even had the chance to sit down.

Master Kenobi couldn’t argue with the efficiency with which Master Nema accomplished her work. Nearly all of the ordered scans had been completed in a relatively short time.

But the urgency with which the doctor questioned you, while a whirlwind of droids circled your head like a pack of strike-Vultures, still had the repercussion of stoking Kenobi’s apprehension to the point of slowing down time itself. The longer Master Nema professionally fired query after query while dissonantly beeping droids traveled to and fro, the more Obi-Wan’s mind drifted to the idea that something really was wrong. And his anticipation of that theory swelled enough to knock each minute beyond his reach. As if shore waves towed sequential seconds farther out to sea.

Of course, as a broader consequence, Master Kenobi could already feel the delicate kindling of a faraway guilt emerge in his gut. Especially once he considered his delay in approaching you.

Had he spoken to you sooner, would the doctor have found her concerns to be less pressing? Would the results you were both still awaiting have proven to be more favorable?

But these thoughts only had the effect of stimulating a dull ache throughout Kenobi’s already tensed back, tightening around his spine like sentient vines as your short conversation with Master Nema reached its end.

Even as the Healer excused herself, his constant mix of disquiet and curiosity about your condition drove his eyes to follow the doctor, all the way up until her marbled head crest disappeared around the corner framing the narrowed doorway. As if her vanishing figure held the answers he sought.

Still, your mysterious affliction was not the only item that’d stoked an air of unease in the resting Jedi. Returning to the inside of the Infirmary’s borders had yanked back memories of his last dalliance with its muted decor and antiseptic aroma. The wounds he’d earned from the Battle of Geonosis were tended to by a similar set of droids in the chamber parallel to this one. A sliver of glass scarcely separated him from recollections of bruised ribs, broken bones, and an exceptionally disorienting concussion.

And, transparently, with reminders of discomfort came booming echoes of the harrowing days that bookended that medically invasive afternoon.

Memories he didn’t want to explore again.

Admittedly, in addition to masking this compounding unease, Master Kenobi had other motivations for his steadily declining posture, amplified as he leaned further back into the sturdy, sleek dividers that bordered you both. It happened to also be the only way Master Kenobi could offer you any semblance of space in such a cramped compartment. One that was so obviously designed for a single patient and no visitors.

You were tiredly perched on the infirmary bed’s side, legs dangling loosely. All while the last stubby medical droid completed a few final, even waves around your head with its hand’s built-in scanner. Yet, despite being planted in the opposite corner from the Master Jedi, the two of you still stood mere feet away from each other. A fact that was further highlighted by that same, pesky droid bumbling into Obi-Wan’s resting elbow for the fourth time as it maneuvered between you and the short wall of green luminescent data screens installed to his right.

Indisputably, it would’ve been easier to vacate these tight quarters to solve such a matter.

But Obi-Wan decided against it. He was still reticent to leave you completely alone.

Both of you knew Master Nema would be returning soon. The Healer had assured you that she’d only be gone down the hall for a few minutes to scan your results from the datapad in her private office. Yet, despite this mutual understanding, Obi-Wan immediately clocked from your shifting eyes toward the empty doorway that her brief withdrawal had fueled second thoughts about your decision to come here. This, in combination with the subtly doubting expression that stuck to your face the whole journey here, had easily convinced the Jedi Master that stepping out would’ve electrified that arch as a beacon of escape, driving you to follow those faintly perceptible impulses.

So, hence this observation, Master Kenobi decided it best to instead act as a tenuous deterrent, marking his territory between you and that sweet exit with an additional cross of his legs as he settled further into the glass wall.

The quiet beeps of scanning droids and ding of pinging monitors faded into a duller tone as Obi-Wan released his mind to wander through the events that led up to this point. It was true, that the Master Jedi had long been pondering what exactly was plaguing you in the time since you’d arrived at the Temple.

The bearded man was quite observant, first catching signs of sleeplessness during those few days on the shuttle back. And in those instances, the occasional flicker of despondency that cursorily contorted your features at the mention of his former Master’s name.

But those rare moments had never succeeded in dulling that reassuring spirit and attuned presence he’d become so accustomed to these past few weeks. It’d never challenged the composed strength that saturated your being so absolutely that it leaked from every inch of exposed skin like water from a wringing towel.

At least, not until the last week or so.

It was around then, Obi-Wan soon realized, that something had changed. And while he didn’t quite understand what exactly was occurring, he did know that some undisclosed element was uniformly snatching away threads of light from those two bright, silver eyes of yours. A physical feature that he’d recently registered as having one unintended effect:

They refreshed his senses from a mere glance alone.

Master Kenobi couldn’t deny to himself that after only a month or so of war, he’d become exhausted by not only the newly amplified duties placed upon him, but also by their militaristic, warlike nature. Missions of peace and humanitarianism had quickly devolved into defending free territories from heavily encroaching enemy lines.

The Council meetings that followed only stoked more of the same. Strategizing troop movements, assigning interplanetary campaigns, addressing casualties…

Had Obi-Wan had the ability to expose his former Padawan self to this future, he knew that young Kenobi would’ve never believed that the Jedi could ever be so entrenched in the politics and military responsibilities of a conflict at this scale.

But when he caught a flash of silver reflection from down a hall? At the corner of the refractory closest to his quarters? Near the edge of his vision in the Temple Gardens?

That weight suddenly felt just a little bit lighter.

The General wasn’t entirely sure why he became so overwhelmed with this sensation just at the mere sight of you. A sudden ease, a calmness that permeated his being in a way he’d never been able to summon on the battlefield.

Though he did have a few guesses.

You had always carried an air of serene confidence, of compassionate power, that struck at Obi-Wan’s core. Yes, these were all attributes expected of a Jedi. But your being didn’t simply carry these characteristics, Kenobi maintained. It was as if you had the artistry to will these qualities into existence from deep within your being. Like the vivid, lapping flames that encompass the entire mass of any radiant star.

And, to him, you wielded such strengths with absolute grace.

It was one such instance that Obi-Wan was still trying to wrap his head around. During your first duel with Anakin, the inclusion of one, brief conversation about his emotionally-charged behavior seemed to have knocked more sense into his impatient former Padawan than Kenobi had ever personally precipitated.

When he later inquired about the dialogue, The General readily respected your decision to keep the specifics of the exchange private. But it was when you relayed to him the vague takeaway of the power of compassion that Obi-Wan realized the reality of your statement.

That had he been in your same boots, applying that same dogma, Master Kenobi still wouldn’t have had much success.

The blue-eyed Jedi had always tried to be considerate with his former Padawan. He was hard on him at times, sure. And the two of them certainly had their many rows. But in the end, Obi-Wan always aimed to keep Anakin’s past in perspective.

He’d tried to protect him by teaching him of the importance of letting attachments go. Dispelling his fiery emotions, his ruffled history, and the people that were now a part of his past.

He tried to be a friend to him. A gentle reminder here. A reference to the Code’s importance in the life of any Jedi there. Yet still, the results were never so transformative.

And it was hard for the Master Jedi not to blame himself for that.

Though that load was slightly lifted by the hope your presence imbued.

Truly, Kenobi was thankful that one of Qui-Gon’s previous Padawans had emerged to partially aid him in fulfilling that deathbed promise he’d made to his former Master so long ago. Even if it was during a time following Anakin’s Knighthood.

Training the boy encompassed not only combat, but also the mastery of softer elements pertaining to becoming a wise Jedi capable of realizing The Chosen One prophecy. It was those latter skills that Obi-Wan never found complete success in communicating as Master to Padawan, having himself become an instructor the very same day he’d completed the Knighthood trials.

Yet, it seemed that addressing those weaknesses in his teachings came to you with relative ease. Something that made him wonder how things may have differed on the day of Geonosis had he discovered your existence earlier.

It was his inability to properly drill the importance of patience in the young boy that later led to the loss of his arm. Obi-Wan was convinced deep down, despite Anakin’s self-punishments, that in the end, it was his own fault. Kenobi’s fault for not equaling your effectiveness in addressing these matters.

Kenobi’s fault for the loss of Anakin’s arm.

Had he found you sooner, could it have all been avoided? Would you have made a connection with little Ani and trained him out of that nearly fatal mistake before he made it?

And what of the days that followed? When Anakin was recovering from that calamitous wound in this very Infirmary.

Obi-Wan vividly recalled the striking images from when he first visited his former Padawan after the battle’s devastation. He could never forget the complete agony that radiated off Anakin’s gnarled face as he stirred from a nightmare. He could never shut out from his mind those words that chestnut-haired Jedi screamed at him, red-veined eyes pulsing as he let slip his mother’s passing.

“And it’s all your fault!”

His heart clenched at the memory.

He didn’t know the details of her death, but he understood vaguely the visions which plagued Anakin in the leading days. Specters that he didn’t realize pointed to a surmounting danger.

And Anakin blamed him for it.

Would you have figured it out faster than him?

If so, then maybe, things could’ve been different.

The possibilities dashed by the delay in rescuing you from that desolate ice planet only lengthened the Jedi Master’s perceptible regret. Possibilities that would’ve become attainable through some mastery of connecting with Anakin’s being. Some familiarity so remarkable that it must’ve been willed by the prophetic elements of the Force itself long ago, Obi-Wan convinced himself.

A conclusion that left him to wonder why you were having an oddly similar effect on him.

Perhaps it was due to your separation from the war. Your lack of experience on a real battlefield freed your being from the weights chained to every Jedi who’d experienced its turmoil. Because even when news of ongoing skirmishes trickled in through visiting clones— tempering moods and gradually effervescing the bubbling anxieties among him, Anakin, and Ahsoka— you still appeared to ignite the surrounding air with sparks of anti-gravity the moment you entered the room.

When any one of them expressed concerns about the front, your soothing smile, teasing jabs, and intelligent reassurances had soon acclimatized the bearded Jedi to associate those hopeful eyes with your comforting existence, and the relaxation it imbued in him.

It was probably also why now, much like the last week in a half, Obi-Wan felt particularly disconcerted.

Without fail, he would be the first to catch on to those subtle dips in your lips in the refractory. The uncomfortable quirk of your brow in the Archives. Sometimes, even, an unexpected twitch of the nose while strolling down a Temple walkway. Always to be followed by a quiet farewell and your quick yet controlled retreat, leaving him without the opportunity to inquire about your condition without necessitating chase.

So it goes without saying that the Master Jedi was particularly relieved when Anakin approached him. Of course, not by the story of your incident in the Starfighter. But by the fact that he finally had a valid excuse to seek you out and investigate this ongoing issue. A trouble that he’d originally surmised as related to Qui-Gon before he was proven to be severely wrong.

Your reality was quite more bothersome.

Honestly, had you not been a force-sensitive being, Obi-Wan would’ve been less concerned. Headaches can be quite normal for the average individual.

But for a Jedi?

It had far more serious possibilities.

Pain in the mind could’ve pointed to an imbalance in the Force. And considering your true identity, and Qui-Gon and the Council’s reasons for hiding it, Kenobi had reason to take note.

Still though, you‘d been through a lot these past few weeks. The death of a Master. Leaving a home you’d known all your life only to be thrust into a far busier and more complicated environment. Finally facing down a dangerous legacy with galactic implications. It was an existence far more demanding than was expected of the average Jedi. Perhaps these migraines were simply a reflection of that fact, he considered.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan wanted to make sure. He was no specialist in the medicinal aspects of the Force nor in how its energies physically manifested. And that meant the only other option was to consult someone with more expertise. Someone he equivocally trusted to make the right determination.

Qui-Gon was right. Kenobi did think about the future a little bit too much.

“Obi-Wan, if you keep staring at me like I’m about to drop dead, I’m gonna kick you out.”

Master Kenobi’s vision instantly refocused, lips parting slightly as he realized his gaze had accidentally wandered and stuck to your subtly dulled, silver orbs.

Immediately, he used his back to push off the screen, summoning a hand to check his beard’s placement in hopes of hiding the chilly embarrassment that ever so slightly crimsoned his cheeks. No matter, he doubled down, approaching you in a few steps with broad shoulders declaring self-assurance.

“You’re not getting rid of me quite that easily,” he casually quipped, dropping his arm loosely to the side once certain that brief flush drained from his ears.

At the same time, the pine-green medical droid stationed before you embraced this sudden split in the previously long-held silence as his cue. The machine wheeled around Obi-Wan, this time rudely knocking into the back of his leg in its scurry toward the screens spread out on the far wall. All the while releasing a flurry of affirmative beeps to signal the examination’s completion.

Of course, Obi-Wan’s eyes were careful not to reflect his mild agitation at the droid’s lack of spatial awareness while his gaze followed it.

Continuing to observe the green machine, Kenobi spoke, paying careful attention to its arm’s mechanical tendrils that extended into the wall’s receiver.

“I was taking the time to consider your situation.”

“What situation?” You emphasized rhetorically.

Obi-Wan’s features sobered in an effort to remind you of the potential gravity of your symptoms.

But you brushed aside his hardened brows, instead bouncing your gaze toward the uncoordinated droid as it finished retracting its arm from the console. Your vision remained locked, following its triangular head while the machine spun toward the room’s doorway, clipping the frame with an unfortunate clunk and shocked beep before reorienting itself to swerve down the parallel hall.

Even then, you extended the interval, allowing its buzzing gears and occasional clicks to grow more distant before continuing with a lowered voice.

“I went from living my life on an ice planet to now spending weeks in a much warmer climate. I’m probably not used to this environment yet. That’s all.”

The unconvinced man spied your eyes soften.

“I’d rather not be wasting medical resources for something that’s probably nothing. Especially in the middle of a war.”

Master Kenobi’s mouth twitched into a frown. “It’s not a waste if it provides the answers you’re looking for.”

“I’d agree if I believed the answers were medical,” you argued.

“This is a Jedi Infirmary,” he spotlighted. “Master Nema will be considering all phenomena that may affect a force-sensitive. Even an imbalance.”

Your brows fluttered inquisitively at this. “Is that what you think is happening? Some sort of imbalance?”

He hummed, hand reaching for his chin as his eyes drifted in thought. “I’m not quite sure. The mind of a Jedi is a complicated thing. The way in which it realizes our connection to the Force is often unpredictable. But headaches resulting from an imbalance are not unheard of,” he exhaled. “Although, I don’t feel anything strange in the space in or around you.”

Obi-Wan cocked his head, stretching out to the swirling energies around you both to confirm his observations from the last few weeks before meeting a familiar wall in the connecting strands.

“But I must admit, I do have trouble sensing your mind within the Force. So, I may be wrong.”

The nearly imperceptible sigh that escaped your nostrils drew his searching orbs back toward your lowered gaze in an instant.

“However,” he readily subsisted. “These are no ordinary scans. If these headaches are related to an imbalance, Master Nema would be the first Healer I trust to make that determination.”

But the one-sided stillness continued. The General spied your eyelids fold shut while you breathed deeply into the emptiness, kindling your despondency in such a way that it intensified Kenobi’s own discomfort. Mostly because he was growing more and more convinced that his reassurances were clearly making things worse.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear—“

“That’s ok, Obi-Wan,” you smiled at him tiredly, legs stretching as your gaze drifted toward your knees. “I heard something similar from Master Windu. If these scans don’t reveal anything, I’ll just return to those meditation sessions he suggested. They’ll have to reveal something eventually, medical or otherwise.”

Once again, Obi-Wan crossed his arms, a silent protest to the security you placed in that impractical solution. Assuming he’d properly understood your version of events from that earlier, rainy conversation, meditation had only made your migraines more unbearable.

A notion that certainly disturbed the seasoned Jedi.

Throughout his life, Master Kenobi took great comfort in connecting with the everlasting serenity that was the Force. Even as a youngling, when his imagination wandered less and less into daydreaming realms, he’d cherished these moments of silent outreach as a way to center his mind and hone his presence in the Galaxy.

But for you, in the last few days, it had only caused you pain. For you, these headaches actualized a blockade, sequestering your being from one of the most sacred acts known to any Jedi. Isolating you from peace.

And he refused to allow that to continue

Obi-Wan was dragged from his thoughts as your straightened legs limply fell back against the bedside, drawing his blue eyes toward spots of perspiration on your now stretching neck and sinking eyelids.

Seeing you like this, pushing yourself to the physical brink as a last-ditch attempt to tame these incidents, heaved upon him a draining atmosphere similar to those that weighed him down more heavily in these months of war.

Sensations he was still trying to put a name to.

But Obi-Wan didn’t need a title to know that his being was firm in at least one judgment— he didn’t want this affliction to torment you any longer.

Those words…

Name. Title.

It drudged up an abrupt thought in the ruminating Jedi. It was something you’d said. Or more, he soon realized, something Mace Windu had instructed you to do.

“Remind me,” he began with a punch, drawing your sparkling eyes toward his as he unstitched his shoulders. “Master Windu advised you to give a name to these incidents, yes?”

You nodded, eyes wandering toward the doorway as Obi-Wan continued steadfastly in his speech

“Silvey,” he called softly, drawing your attention back to him.

“What was the name—?”

“I’ve had a chance to review your scans, Silvey.”

Master Nema spoke resonantly as she materialized, carrying a polished bearing while pivoting through the open-aired doorway and toward your seated figure. Her cerulean-tinted eyelids and lips stood in stark contrast against lime-green shoulders, a distinction emphasized by bowed eyes that held affixed to the blue glow of the datapad in her dominant hand.

Regardless of the thickly sliced air, the Healer continued to evenly scroll through the device, having unknowingly cut off the previous exchange before you’d even had the chance to absorb Kenobi’s inquiry.

“And I don’t see anything of note. Just some heightened activity here.”

Obi-Wan watched as the gray-robbed Halaisi finally raised her gaze, extending the datapad toward your now curious form.

Taking the device, you scanned it quickly, eyes squinting while you mulled over some image stamped at the screen’s center beyond Kenobi’s view. Though you only mulled over the datapad for a few seconds before glancing up at the Healer candidly, a somewhat sheepish expression attempting to push through your unbending forehead.

“I’m not very familiar with the anatomy of the brain,” you admitted.

Shimming to your side without bumping into the bedside, Master Nema pointed a long, viridescent finger at the datapad. “This brighter, center portion here consists of your amygdala and hippocampus. They are responsible for several functions related to memories and emotional processing.”

She glanced at you.

“May I ask you to describe the weeks leading up to these migraines? Primarily, I’d like to know which locations you’ve visited and the activities you were engaged in.”

Obi-Wan sighed internally, biting his tongue. Even before Master Nema had finished her inquiry, the bearded Jedi was swift to realize a new issue— that your inevitable yet necessary response may undermine the accuracy of the Healer’s determinations.

And for an instant, Kenobi nearly imagined that you’d read his mind.

Not a second later, you subtly glimpsed at The General’s now very watchful stare, only to confirm with determined eyes that you knew what you needed to do.

And that he had no chance of changing your mind.

Because Master Yoda and Master Windu advised that such truths must remain hidden. As revealing your real identity could amplify the very real threat to your life. So, without their permission, your predetermined fabrication needed to become the truth to Master Nema as well.

“I’ve recently returned from a years-long mission for the Council,” you dispassionately parroted. “However, I’m unable to discuss it in detail.”

Master Nema nodded unflinchingly, having become long accustomed to the importance of discretion in most Jedi matters.

“I understand,” she relayed, retrieving the datapad from your outstretched hand. “Can you share if you’ve had any occurrences similar to these during your assignment?”

Unblinkingly, you confidently answered.

“I did not.”

“Good,” she expressed, satisfied. “Further details will not be needed.”

Lowering her arm to rest the datapad by her side, the doctor angled herself more fully toward both you and Obi-Wan as she delivered her diagnosis.

“From these symptoms and affected regions, and with no other indications of illness on your scans, I understand that you are experiencing a side effect of prolonged stress.”

Obi-Wan covertly peered at your reaction, curiously taking in the unexpected neutrality that characterized your countenance.

“Stress?” You repeated, asking for confirmation.

“Yes,” Master Nema established, unbothered by your unconvinced manner as she turned away and strolled toward the gentle green glow of busily flashing screens plastered by Obi-Wan’s side.

“It’s quite common,” she maintained, her exposed upper back greeting you both as the displays’ ceaseless stream of looping data commandeered her sight.

“But I must admit,” she noted. “I’ve only seen these cases more recently, since the war began.”

Cunningly rearranging several charts of what Kenobi saw as an assortment of disparate numbers and calculations, the Jedi Healer soon centered on a corner window before beginning the long trial of analyses inputs, gathered from the occasional glance toward her purposefully angled datapad as she expounded.

“The Jedi are involved in prolonged duties of war that they were never meant for. And without time for meditation, it has caused many to internalize these experiences. This is why the symptoms of these strains usually begin after returning to the Temple. When their bodies are given a chance to rest and connect with the Force, the effects of prolonged stress are then allowed space to materialize.”

“Materialize as headaches?” Obi-Wan questioned from his once quiet perch.

Master Nema broke away from the left screen mid-data entry, angling to face the bearded Jedi with golden-rimmed eyes and a forthright manner.

“This is the first time I’ve heard of headaches as a symptom,” she admitted. “But from the general history described, the causes appear to be the same. Also, the hippocampus and amygdala are known to respond to stress-inducing environments. And headaches are not a far stretch from the primary indicators. Lack of focus, exhaustion…”

Master Nema stretched to eye your figure thoughtfully.

“I believe you’re showing the latter.”

At that remark, Kenobi immediately noticed a chink in your impartiality as a flake of disappointment slipped past the corners of gently pursed lips.

His forehead crinkled at the trickle of confusion dripping down his hairline. Obi-Wan thought you’d be relieved to hear that this affliction was not as dire as it had the potential to be.

It appeared that the Jedi Healer must’ve noticed the same shift in expression as she offered you a diplomatic smile. Those that are often reserved by doctors for their more unfamiliar patients.

“Rest, Silvey. Meditate. Do something to take your mind off of the stresses of your mission. It’s over now.”

And, in response, you offered a simple nod.

“Thank you, Master,” you relayed sincerely, offering a flash of amicability. “I’ll try to do that.”

You pushed off the medical bed with sudden haste, toes landing on the floor gingerly as your legs briskly steered through and out the doorway. The skilled maneuverings easily drew Obi-Wan’s attention, compelling him to detect a precise shift in your most noticeable features as you passed by.

How your eyes submerged into a subtle, gray glaze, and how your jaw inappreciably tightened.

It was enough to provoke him to launch a pursuit of his own, hoping to make up for the past few weeks of mistakes in not doing exactly this. All with the intent to close the distance with your quickly departing being after exchanging a parting nod with Master Nema.

“Silvey,” he projected, pacing toward your weaving form beyond the last few cubicles that pointed to the Infirmary’s exit like an arrow.

He caught your gate slacken as you entered the connecting Temple walkway, casually pivoting toward his quick steps while you waited for him to catch up. Still, you didn’t give Kenobi a chance to finish his approach before beginning to speak unapologetically, offering a straight face and a hand on each hip as you made a particularly bold statement

“It’s not stress.”

Had he not been present in the observation room, Master Kenobi would’ve unequivocally believed your statement right then and there. From three, fearless words alone. Spoken with such sheer simplicity that it was as if you were reminding him that Coruscant’s sky was, in fact, blue.

Still, disregarding the momentary speculation your confidence imbued, Obi-Wan held onto the reality of your situation. Or, more accurately, the relative soundness of Master Nema’s diagnosis while his pace effortlessly eased by your side.

“You don’t know that,” he contested as you pivoted, carrying on your trek down the pillared and lilac-carpeted walkway while his legs seamlessly moved in sync with yours. “The history you provided may not be accurate, but that doesn’t mean stress isn’t the source. Master Nema said the scans support her diagnosis.”

“It’s not stress,” you reflexively repeated, the same, unshakable conviction as pulsing as before that locked Kenobi’s gaze onto you while you continued.

“Stress is natural. It’s our being’s way of telling us something. Reminding us to take a break. To take time for ourselves. But whatever this is,” you gesticulated into the air, hand twirling as if it was conjuring the very affliction from the surrounding pillars’ essence. “It isn’t natural. It’s different. Deep inside me, but not. Disconnected—“

From a lightning flash of sliver, Obi-Wan was temporarily taken aback as he was forced to absorb your stilled yet rich perseverance. Bleeding through eyes that whipped over to challenge his stare, drawing you both to a sudden halt.

While emphasizing each consonant, you calmly declared once more your obstinate verdict.

“It is not stress.”

For a few seconds, the Master Jedi searched your face, keeping an eye out for any inkling of a quiver in your fortitude. Any sign of withheld doubts. Any indication that there was something you weren’t comfortable sharing.

But quite immediately, The General realized that even if he’d stood there for days, all would’ve remained the same. There were no hints that you could’ve been convinced otherwise. No way for him to persuade you that stress affected the body just as mysteriously as the Force.

So, he acquiesced.

“Alright,” he acknowledged, a gentleness enveloping his tone. “For now, let’s agree that it may not be stress. You’ve been managing them with the same approaches Master Nema suggested, no?”

“I have…” you skeptically concurred. “But it’s not sustainable.”

The sound of your exhale roped Obi-Wan’s attention as you reached up to rest a palm on your eye. Your cheeks sagged in resignation, subduing your voice while you spoke.

“I guess I’ll just try to get some rest.”

Obi-Wan’s brows creased in an unpleasant recognition.

Those disjointed eyes? The carefully constructed monotonousness you’ve held since making your escape from the Infirmary?

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan was quickly becoming a master at pinpointing the signs.

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” He delicately inquired.

You shook your head incredulously, a small smile inching out of the corner of your mouth as you peeked at him.

“Is it that obvious?”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure exactly why he did it. Why his arms reached for your shoulders, grasping their cold frames with a pleasant squeeze. As if some foreign entity now controlled and commanded both limbs with a set of knotted strings. A mind other than his own that believed the only way you’d hear his words was through physical and visual touch alone.

For a split second, at the base of his subconscious, with eyes locked onto yours, Kenobi speculated that perhaps it was a piece of Qui-Gon left behind that commandeered his actions. You’d mentioned to Obi-Wan that your former Master believed your stubbornness to be a considerable strength, yet a ramifying weakness. Something the bearded Jedi certainly recognized as he spent more time with you in the past few weeks.

Knowing the dearly departed, your at times cloaked stubbornness on such affairs plausibly necessitated Master Quinn to rely on similar measures to finally break through.

So why not do the same?

“Let me help you. You’re not on Hoth anymore. There are beings that can assist you here,” he frustratingly exhaled. “You told me yourself that rest has done nothing. I can provide a suitable distraction, if you’d allow me.”

Kenobi’s careful gaze caught the minute disorientation that blinked from reactive brows. You clasped your hands and, for the first time since he’d known you, an air of timidness encircled your ears.

“I appreciate the offer,” you began conscientiously, displaying a thankful smile “But that wouldn’t be fair to you. I know that there are probably a number of Council tasks you’ve sacrificed to check on me, which I appreciate. But I shouldn’t keep you away from those responsibilities any longer.”

“You and I both know that the Council’s activities have laxed since the incident with the communications system,” he securely reminded you as the bud of a perfect excuse blossomed into the puff of levity that captured his voice.

“Besides, this would be more of an exchange than a sacrifice.”

“Oh?” You uttered.

Your demure smile stretched into an infectious smirk, which only amplified Obi-Wan’s gaiety through brightened cheeks.

“You seem to have forgotten your promise,” he bantered.

Your head tilted.

“My promise?”

“The Muntuur?”

The bottom half of your face instantly transformed into a broad grin.

“Ah, yes,” you exaggerated teasingly. “How could I’ve forgotten a promise as dire as that.”

“Then you agree?” He quickly inquired. “You instruct me on how to use the device, and you can be confident that I will ask enough questions to keep your mind occupied.”

“I believe you may be on the better side of this deal,” you poked.

Kenobi watched as your eyes wafted toward the far-reaching Temple ceilings in thought. And in pondering his request amidst the absurdity of this exchange, Obi-Wan was fortunate enough to just barely catch your attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Alright,” you feigned defeat, silver orbs flickering as you glanced at him.

“I agree.”

—

Kenobi drifted deeper into his settled posture, legs folded in angled balance as he extended his deliverance into the swirling energies of the Force. Straightening his back, his focused mind welcomed the omnipresent stream to encircle him in the empty training dojo, never to be hindered by its milky white walls nor wood-bordered panels.

Wherever he was, The General sensed this to be true. That the Force would always be with him.

Rationally, Obi-Wan knew that any second, you’d be strolling through those two gray sliding doors to join him, Muntuur in hand after retrieving it from your quarters per his request. Yet still, Kenobi found that even in the most cursory of moments, meditation proved to always be a feasible endeavor. Despite sometimes having only a few seconds to fully connect with his surroundings, Obi-Wan found that stretching into the constant flow would still center his mind in a manner that could last for hours. Perhaps days, if he’d found particular focus.

But he hadn’t always had the aptitude to enter those cavernous reflective states so rapidly. Especially as a Padawan, when his mind took a little bit more tugging to wrench it away from concerns of the future so to focus on the here and now. It was a realm he always had to strive toward. A speedy existence he’d been further compelled to master had he any hope of engaging in such comforts during the ceaseless activities of war.

A lifestyle he knew he’d be returning to soon.

From the final review of the Temple’s security system this morning, it was ultimately discovered that there had, in fact, been a leak in the communications system. Specifically, an exposed transceiver code. And, of course, of the many technical specialists and machines tasked with rooting out the issue, Artoo, Anakin’s prized blue-and-white droid, was the one to discover it.

Due to Count Dooku’s formerly wide access to sensitive Temple data, Master Yoda had decided to alter all related security measures so to ensure that the Separatists were not given a tactical advantage after The Battle of Geonosis. That included identifying and deactivating the extensive array of transceiver codes that Dooku was aware of.

But, unfortunately, it seemed that one was missed. A single line of digits once only privy to Council transmissions during Dooku’s short stint as a member, long before Obi-Wan’s time. An easy mistake that proved to have significant consequences, setting back the Republic’s stance by forcing the Jedi off the battlefield as clone battalions temporarily took command.

And just after they’d finally gotten one step ahead of the Separatists following the Republic victory on Christophsis, no less.

Either way, The General understood that he’d soon see the damage himself once given his first return assignment. A mission that would include you, considering Master Yoda’s decision to separate you from Anakin on the battlefield for the time being.

But there wasn’t time for such considerations any longer. No more musings about what the future held. Not in a time when he should’ve been blending his mind with the rippling stream.

A time cut short.

The whoosh of an automatic door releasing tickled his ears, followed by a cool gust of creeping air that further drew Obi-Wan out of his concentrative state. A quick wrench akin to similar interruptions by Commander Cody during those off-world campaigns in the months prior.

His eyelids peeled open at the new, subtle presence before him. And in the moments that followed, it didn’t take long for Kenobi to take note of your more upbeat figure, revitalized by the prospect of the coming distraction in the form of teaching a lesson on ancient implements, Obi-Wan hoped. A divertissement to be governed by The Muntuur whose glint caught the bearded Jedi’s eye.

“Excellent,” Master Kenobi expressed, raking his gaze over the half-circle metal headpiece that hung loosely from your fingertips while he untangled, placing a hand on his knee to help him stand. “Now tell me how it works.”

Obi-Wan spotted a quirk in your brows as you steadily approached, a token of entertainment at his eagerness, no doubt.

You hummed flippantly. “It would be easier to just show you, you know.”

And Master Kenobi wholeheartedly agreed, but that wasn’t why he was doing this. He couldn’t deny that he’d been ardently waiting since you told him about The Muntuur to put the apparatus to the test. But, right now, he had more important matters to address than his budding curiosity.

To focus your mind on easier topics. On the intricacies of a long-lost Jedi device. And on the concentration required to explain it to him.

And that meant putting some skin in the game.

“I’d much rather hear it from your own voice,” he contended, nonchalant gaze somewhat lowering to meet yours as your shorter, slightly amused figure stalled within arms reach of his chest.

And with your quick-beat response, it was clear to Obi-Wan that you’d in some measure caught on to his ruse.

“Well, how could I deny such a charmed request?”

A tickled smile crawled across Kenobi’s features at your faintly sarcastic tone. An expression that persisted fervently despite noticing a sincerity wash away your brief masquerade.

“I must warn you, Obi-Wan. What I’ve learned about this device was through significant trial and error. Not even Qui-Gon really understood it.”

Still, the Jedi Master’s encouraging regard never quivered. A long-held desire to grasp and digest your knowledge radiated from his being. Strong enough, it seemed, to persuade you to continue as you held up The Muntuur for easy viewing.

“If you have the imagination, and the specifications, you can program it to simulate virtually anything. Any drill or duel you can imagine. Any environment. Any foe. As long as you know the strengths, behaviors, and appearances involved in your desired program, then it can be created by inputting them here.”

Obi-Wan adjusted as you turned your back toward him to display the device’s rear. Specifically, the small, anciently designed input panel whose miniature screen emitted an amber gleam between your secured fingers.

He craned his neck farther over your shoulder, the fragrance of star jasmines wafting from your loose hair and into his nostrils as he strived to take a closer look.

“My holobooks often provided enough information for me to recreate their contents for training purposes,” you continued to explain. “Honestly, I’ve used The Muntuur so much that I still have a number of designations memorized. Including…”

Master Kenobi scrutinized the tiny display as your fluttering fingers tapped away, making selections and adjusting parameters so expeditiously that it was as if an invisible memory bank of numbers and terms were stored in your wrist. You readied the device so expertly, in fact, that the brief trailing off of your voice was smoothly picked up following the short, concentrative pinch.

“…this little guy.”

He watched while your thumb danced to the small, circular black button resting in the panel’s corner, pressing and holding it down until a startling beep cheered from the device. An unexpected noise that swiveled your figure back toward the Master Jedi, arm outstretched in offering as a barely hampered enthusiasm elevated your features.

However, with an undetermined inspection narrowing on the instrument, Obi-Wan suddenly felt hesitant to accept.

He often found comfort in understanding the more nuanced aspects of unknown technologies before diving right in, unlike his former Padawan. Consequently, The Master Jedi had honestly been anticipating a more detailed explanation. But from the rapid fire of input codes and language specifications that manifested from your exceptional proficiency, Obi-Wan now realized that, even with your guidance, such in-depth adroitness was sure to take weeks if not months.

Time he, unfortunately, did not have.

“Don’t worry,” you brightly assured, arm still extended with the gleaming metal headpiece. “The safety protocols are engaged. It won’t bite.”

Kenobi’s stare snapped toward yours as he cautiously took the device.

“Safety protocols?” He inquired, turning over the cold metal in his palms as he observed its ornate craftsmanship. “I’ve never heard of a simulation creating a safety issue.”

“It’s more than a simulation,” you elucidated, jutting a thumb toward his grasp. “Notice how there’s no visor?”

Obi-Wan flipped the device, realizing the accuracy of your statement as his befuddled eyes met its rather barren fore.

“It functions by triggering the electrical impulses in your neurons. Because it creates the simulation with your mind, certain programs need to be active to prevent the more subconscious parts of your brain from confusing artificial injuries with reality.”

“That is…quite fascinating…” Obi-Wan uttered, taking one last scan of the unique instrument before glancing at your intrigued features, captivated by a typhoon of ruminations on the device’s remarkable functions, he assumed.

“So I won’t feel pain?”

You shook your head heartily, emphasizing each word that followed. “No, you’ll certainly feel pain. But you won’t receive any grievous injuries.”

And the General’s spine stiffened from shock at this. Eyes wide as he searched your matter-of-fact countenance for clarification.

“Silvey, are you saying this device can cause real-world harm?”

“Only if the safety protocols are off,” you undauntedly reminded before your voice relaxed into a fonder, more reminiscent timbre.

“I learned that piece of programming the hard way,” you chuckled. “Qui-Gon almost threw the whole thing away after I nearly bled to death from a stab to the shoulder. A fairly treatable wound in the likes of Coruscant, I’m sure. But when you have no choice but to work with a few, expired bacta pads, it can become a little dicey.”

Master Kenobi’s once intrigued disposition had slowly devolved into a frown.

He knew this implement was old. Likely used by ancient Jedi who followed a widely contrasting set of rules in a lawless world of dark adversaries. But he never predicted that their training equipment would allow for such risk in the name of growth. There was a reason younglings learned on training sabers. So that they need not face the same life-threatening dangers that you seem to have faced every day at their age. Whether through an unpredictable apparatus or the nature of your icy asylum.

Obi-Wan barely noticed the thickening of a faintly simmering temper, mixed with frustration and confusion as he finally considered the reality of your upbringing. The bearded Jedi cared for his former Master deeply, and he clearly understood that Qui-Gon had done his best to protect you under severe circumstances. But the auburn-haired man couldn’t get over the sheer recklessness that characterized his decision-making as your custodian.

Had he not checked this device thoroughly before handing it off to a child? That didn’t sound like the wise man he’d known for all his life. Though Qui-Gon did have many responsibilities on top of your secret existence. Most of which likely prevented him from imparting the same thoroughness and circumspect to which he gifted Obi-Wan.

Still, it was no excuse.

And the longer he sat with that realization, the more your recollection ruffled Obi-Wan. Especially when your cavalier attitude proved your innocence to the underlying issue that Kenobi was so peeved by.

A reaction that you just seemed to notice, but failed to correctly attribute.

“Obi-Wan.”

You spoke gently, reaching out a cold, comforting hand to rest beneath his, providing a little extra lift in supporting the gadget’s portable weight. His eyes followed your arm, naturally landing on the two, strikingly silver orbs that relaxed his tensed muscles and unsettled thoughts with mollifying memories of uncomplicated talks and silent company.

“I promise you, you’re not gonna get hurt. I would never have agreed to share The Muntuur with you had I believed for a second it would cause serious harm.”

And there it was again. Those gentle, sparkling features that cozily blanketed Obi-Wan’s line of vision with honest poise. Accompanied by relieving words that freshly astounded him in every instant they fell from your lips.

Your life. Your upbringing. Devoid of connection and saturated with harsh dangers in an inhospitable habitat. Yes, a Jedi was expected to forgo all attachments, but this isolation had been to an extreme.

Yet every day. In every moment he had the chance to grace your presence. To get to know you. You’d shimmer like a being who’d known unconditional love from the galaxy, and was simply acting as a conduit to relay that benevolence onto others.

But that wasn’t your reality, Obi-Wan reminded himself. Besides Qui-Gon’s disbanded guidance, you had only known the cold.

Still, even that jarring refuge was likely more enticing than the prospect of facing a dark nemesis too soon.

You’d only known struggle, yet diffused compassion.

You really were something.

“I trust you,” Master Kenobi finally spoke, raising The Muntuur to secure its chilly, rigid form atop his head.

While his hands lowered, Obi-Wan felt a slight dig as the device morphed to fit his skull’s dimensions. A low, mechanical purr was followed by strange tingling sensations that danced across his temples like docile Endorian ants.

But after a few, stagnant seconds, in which a stillness recouped the air, nothing else occurred.

The Jedi Master knew that you’d intended for some program to run, yet he saw nothing. Just the dojo’s durable, cream-tinted walls supported by pillars of hickory brown wood.

“How do I know if the simulation has begun?” Obi-Wan questioned, eyes glancing toward your figure as you purposefully ambled backward to grant more clearance to the focused Jedi.

A delighted smirk tugged up at your countenance from chin to ears as you slowed to a halt about twelve meters away.

“Oh, trust me. You’ll know.”

A deep, guttural roar bellowed from behind, provoking a somewhat startled Master Kenobi to detach his lightsaber mid-whirl as he faced the blare with the blade’s instantly ignited, blue glow.

Coiled into a stalking pose at the opposite wall was the brown-gold body of a particularly irate Nexu. Its four, beady red eyes pierced Kenobi’s senses, drawing considerable attention to the broad set of dagger-like teeth that stretched across half its face as the beast soon began to circularly prowl. The inchmeal movements of its sharp claws and flicking tails quickly compelled Kenobi to step into a cautious counter, sidestep after sidestep so to avoid closing that precarious gap.

“I believe we have different definitions of what qualifies as a ‘little guy!’” Obi-Wan sarcastically called out, his readily extended saber maintaining the standoff while he kept a slow, methodical distance.

“I think he’s kinda cute!” You gushed.

Obi-Wan’s head whipped to stare at you in utter disbelief, hoping to communicate his complete disagreement with such a statement. In fact, he manifested with his eyes alone the question of whether you were truly seeing the same ghastly brute as him.

But any answer he sought would have to wait, it appeared. The momentary glance at your chuckling figure was cut short by the beast’s consciousness of Kenobi’s brief distraction.

Its paws struck the ground with a sharp crack, signaling the Nexu’s powerful charge toward Obi-Wan as the latter’s attention snapped back toward the rapidly closing-in creature. One, he now noticed, whose approach could be viscerally sensed, further persuading the Master Jedi to poise himself for the coming strike that he felt through the surrounding flow.

“I can feel its movement within the force!” He called out while dodging a quick slash of the right set of claws. “How is that possible?!”

“It’s part of the programming,” you leveled candidly while Obi-Wan sprinted for a better vantage point toward the far wall, slithering beast on his tail.

“I think that’s why Qui-Gon assumed it was built for the Jedi,” you continued. “Never could figure out how that part worked.”

Drawing on the stream around him as he reached the dead end, Kenobi leapt onto the wall, maintaining his momentum while he followed its architecture around the training room.

Still, the slobbering huffs of the Nexu stayed close behind, especially once the creature’s biting claws lodged into the same partition, empowering it to launch into a rather slippery chase while its talons fought against the smoother sectionals.

However, the agile Jedi persisted, formulating a plan as his eyes locked onto an abruptly nearing corner.

With the blustering beast just a few steps behind, Kenobi broke away toward the opposite intersecting wall. Then, with cold air resisting against his face, Obi-Wan exercised the boost to reach and thrust against this new push-off point, barreling into a flip back toward the growling beast that still struggled to skitter across this raised vantage point.

Swiftly, while the Master Jedi glided midair, Kenobi brought down his blue luminescence to slash at the Nexu’s back. It was in that instant, that he successfully severed several of its sharp quills, a pink ooze soaking the creature’s fur while it wailed out in agony.

Embracing the Force to cushion his descent, Obi-Wan partially floated to the stone floor, toes centering his landing as the beast once clawing across the dojo wall writhed into a short plummet, striking the floor with a boom just meters beyond his feet.

Kenobi watched on while the Nexu pitifully rolled to its side, emitting a flurry of pained squeaks and whimpers in its parade to expose its underside, a symbol of surrender.

But that white flag wasn’t what prompted Obi-Wan to abruptly unfasten The Muntuur from his skull and end the program, leading the now docile Nexu to fade into nothingness as the device hummed through its deactivation.

No.

Instead, the slightly panting Jedi’s attention was seized by a sudden burst of laughter from the far corner, flinging his bewildered yet slightly curious gaze toward your bent-over form leaned against the dojo’s gray doors.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just, this is the first time I’ve seen someone use The Muntuur from an outside perspective and I’m—” Another fit of giggles poured out of your gut, squeezing Obi-Wan’s brows to raise in delight at the sound.

“I’m just now wondering how Qui-Gon kept a straight face! With nothing there for me, it just looks like you’re running around in circles, and—“

Another howl of laughter colored the air, touching his chest with a strangely familiar sensation. One that he couldn’t quite clearly recall, but knew still that it had been something he’d experienced a couple times a year as a young Padawan.

On those few evenings in the fall when his training had ended early for the day, young Kenobi would run off to the Glitannai Eslpanade to experience the Festival of Stars. And while he appreciated the joy of dancing beings and the artistry of performative acrobatics, he’d only really had one motive for sneaking off with a nut brown robe tightly concealing his Jedi identity amongst the bustling crowds.

It was to gawk at the falling Ithorian rose petals, flung from the sky like euphoric tears at each year’s parade on Coruscant.

A sight he could never drag his eyes away from, no matter how hard he tried.

This wasn’t exactly what Obi-Wan had planned when he decided to focus your mind on matters separate from those stress-induced headaches. But he certainly wasn’t going to complain about finding success through other means. The undeniably beaming expression on your face meant that something he did had lessened the headache that’d emerged following your infirmary visit, at least.

Perhaps that was what gave rise to his inner appreciation for your enlivened state. Because when he heard your laughter spring throughout the room, it confirmed for him that he’d finally taken a little bit of your pain away.

And that idea alone tugged fiercely at his facial muscles, coaxing him to give rise to a smile.

But Obi-Wan shoved that down, instead adopting a rather unimpressed gaze as his voice oozed with sarcasm.

“I’m pleased you find my defensive techniques so amusing.”

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