GOOD MORNING, THIS IS TOM NOOK SPEAKING..... 

his hands cling to the back of bail’s shirt,  as if he were the last tether to safety.  as if letting go would make him drown. 

the jedi allows himself to be moved easily,  following bail’s lead ;  theirs is a slow dance of exhaustion and need and hope.  with leaden limbs he acquiesces and curls against him,  closing his eyes.  beneath them a soft violet that may have been a beautiful colour,  had it not been a smear of pain.  every part of him aches,  and now,  encircled in the safety of bail’s broad arms,  he shatters piece by piece  —

shatters the way he always does.  he’ll break himself apart,  and silently beg bail to put him back together before he has to leave this room. 

‹ it feels as though this war will never end.  even if we win. ›

a hand over bail’s sternum,  catching that steady heartbeat beneath his fingertips.  love,  outpoured,  the silent way that only obi-wan kenobi can. 

‹ you make me less afraid . ›

bail  can  breathe  easy  with  obi-wan  sitting  next  to  him,  pressure  against  his  side.  it’s  most  welcome.  he  feels  empty  in  these  vast  senate  apartments  without  the  jedi  master.  his  lover’s  words  echo  sentiments  that  he  himself  has  thought  many  times.  a  third  presence  benefitting  from  this  war  that  is  neither  republic  nor  separatist.  but  whom  ??  he  can’t  wrap  his  heart  around  it  but  has  a  feeling  deep  in  his  gut.  “  i  don’t  see  a  road  to  victory.  “  he  tried  to  be  optimistic,  believe  in  their  fight,  but  as  he  found  himself  more  &  more  on  the  front  lines,  he  saw  just  how  corrupt  their  views  had  become.  

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆  moments pass before the jedi replies,  moments spent trying to gather breath that keeps hitching in his throat.  his clothes are still wet,  and he keeps trying to find some sort of sense in all this. 

bail’s voice is full of unspoken panic,  but the cadence of his words ground obi-wan amid the hurricane of pain that has settled behind his ribs.  he looks at the perfect clear blue of hyperspace flickering past,  blurred from the tears he keeps having to wipe from his face. 

the clones  —  they had  —  it had been a trap   —  all of it,  everything   —  he couldn’t save them,  couldn’t save them   —

‹ yes,  bail.  i’m here. ›

a pause,  in which he rakes a hand through his hair. 

‹ i’m alive .  i don’t know what’s  — ›  he breaks a little more under the weight of it.  under the horror,  the feeling of pitching forward into a bottomless ice - cold void that swallows everything.  dark,  open water.  he,  alone.

‹ i don’t know what’s happening.  i’m sorry .  are you…  are you safe ? ›

the  senator’s  office  is  in  a  disarray,  his  cloak  thrown  at  the  desk  as  he  had  forced  his  holo  to  work.  everything  was  turning  into  a  disaster.  bail  knew  not  who  he  could  trust.  but  the  man  in  front  of  him,  clothes  dripping,  there  was  no  doubt  that  bail  could  trust  him.  

bail  tries  to  memorize  every  stress  line  on  obi-wan’s  face,  every  quirk  of  his  brow.  it  could  be  the   last  time  he  saw  the  jedi.  no,  don’t  think  like  that.  the  war  has  harshened  you,  made  sharp  edges.  you  love  each  other.  you  will  figure  it  out.  “  you’re  alive.  “  a  harsh  breath  is  taken  &  he  reaches  out  instinctively  with  his  hand  before  remembering  that  won’t  get  him  any  closer  to  his  lover.  

he  had  been  going  through  reports,  twi-leks  with  no  food  &  a  blockade  by  the  banking  clan  forcing  their  hand.  they  would  starve  without  aid.  there’s  a  heaviness  in  his  heart  as  he  gathers  the  appropriate  senators  to  discuss  a  diplomatic  mission  that  he  would  head  the  next  morning.  it’s  been  a  long  day,  an  exhausting  one,  &  he’s  tiredly  reading  more  reports  when  the  door  to  his  private  apartments  slides  open.  only  few  have  access  without  needing  permission,  so  he  doesn’t  bother  to  look  up  for  a  moment.  but  obi-wan’s  voice  startles  him,  the  exhaustion  leaking  through.  his  data  padd  is  abandoned  as  he  stands,  crossing  the  length  of  the  room  to  take  the  smaller  man  in  his  arms.  he  wants  to  shield  him  from  this  way,  take  him  to  the  peaks  of  alderaan  where  they  can  watch  the  sunset  together,  surrounded  by  nothing  but  alderaanian  wine  &  fruit.  nothing  but  their  love. 

a  bright  chuckle  escapes  from  bail’s  lips,  turned  upwards  as  he  gazed  down  at  his  wife.  he  relished  in  these  moments  together  when  their  lives  were  so  hectic.  “  you  say  that  every  year.  has  it  become  criminal  to  want  to  spoil  you  ??  i  shall  alert  the  authorities  of  my  misdeeds.  “  a  press  of  his  lips  against  her  head,  arm  wrapping  tighter  around  her  shoulders.  for  now,  all  was  quiet.  who  knew  how  long  that  would  last.  for  now,  he  would  relish  in  the  comfort  of  breha’s  weight  pressed  against  him,  her  voice  lulling  him  into  contentment.  it’s  not  often  that  he  can  feel  like  this,  the  stressors  of  the  senate  melting  away  as  she  talked  about  things  in  their  home  world.  oh  how  he  loved  her.