thinking about how obi-wan probably always thought, always hoped, that eventually the war would end and if, force-willing, they survived, he and anakin could just be regular jedi together in a time of peace.
that the tension and grief and anger of anakin’s padawan years would settle (anakin had grown into a jedi obi-wan was incredibly, terribly proud of, after all) and when they no longer had to be generals, they would go on missions together, normal missions where they would negotiate treaties and investigate minor problems off-world and weren’t locked into endless, bloody battle.
that his grand-padawan would be knighted, the padawan he and anakin had trained together, that she would maybe take a padawan on her own someday and his lineage would continue, healing over the broken branches of dooku and qui-gon.
and this, growing old with anakin, leading a normal jedi life with him by obi-wan’s side, living at the temple and eating in the refectory and teaching the initiates, would be obi-wan’s reward for all his grief, all his pain, all he had sacrificed for the order. a humble reward, he would never ask for more, just a simple life with the only family he had ever imagined himself having, the life anakin and ahsoka deserved but hadn’t seen since the start of the war.
and then none of those things happened because of terrible machinations that had been in place, unseen, for decades inside which they were all just pawns on a playing board to be moved and sacrificed in meaningless cruelty
