itâs the first thing I wrote in ages, and the time Iâm posting a fic here so please be nice.
Actually itâs a one-shot, posing as a potential chapter in imaginarykatâs wonderful sith!obi-wan fic wicked thing. I hope the author doesnât mind! (@imaginaryanon or associates, please contact me any time if you want me to take it down!)
So here goes⌠(be nice)
Please tag and reference if reblogging. thank you!
Anakin finds himself in the Templeâs archives, ears still ringing from the Councilâs exasperation after his most recent failure.
Letting two Sith Lords escape, returning to the Temple with empty hands. Itâs more than he can take right now. He doesnât need Mace Winduâs voice in his head, berating him, beating him down, calling him out on being a worthless example of a Jedi. He doesnât need Master Yodaâs disappointed silence, even less the curious stare that seems to pierce right into his very soul.
The sight of Kenobi, no, Darth Lumis, vanishing into the ship right after Dooku, without even a glance back at Anakin. Kenobi running from the battle, no hesitation at all. He will never forget it. Mere hours after asking Anakin to run away with him, Kenobi has made his choice very clear. He is a Sith Lord after all. Why does it, why does Anakin need so many incidents to drive this realization, this fact, home?
Anakin lets out a stifled groan, leans onto a wall and buries his face in the palms of his hands. He doesnât really feel the wounds from the battle anymore, the red imprints from the shackles, the burns inflicted by lightsabers. Anakin lifts his gaze again, realizing at once that he is alone in the archives, a few busy drones and one or two droids the only thing keeping him company. It is late at night, and even the scholars need their sleep. An unwarranted smile tugs at Anakinâs mouth. He has spent so much time looking for the comfort of loneliness in the Jedi temple only to find it here, in the most unlikely of places. A place actually, that he usually never visits, that he actively avoids most of the time.
Anakin pushes himself off the wall and wanders idly through the countless rows of shelves, letting his mind soak up the peace and quiet surrounding him, letting the cool air sooth both his body and this thoughts. He walks for what seems quite a long time, his eyes darting to and fro, half reading the inscriptions on holocrons, and, much much older, written on sheets of paper and parchment scrolls. At the end of the line, he turns a corner and walks back slowly, parchment turning to paper turning to datapads and holocrons, forward in time again.
I have been an idiot not to come here sooner, Anakin ponders. Well yeah, an idiot all the way, but still. The silence is comforting and Anakin doesnât want to go there just yet. He turns at the front row to walk around the corner as something catches his eye. Practically yanks his mind right into the present, more like. Itâs a holocron, gingerly resting in its spot on the shelf, the inscription on it screaming into his face.
Operation Varactyl. Directive: Capture of Sith Lord Count Dooku. Status: failed.
And below, Operative: Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, deceased.
Almost entranced, Anakin reaches out and takes the holocron device into his hand. It feels cool against the palm of his hand. Anakin looks around, he is still quite alone, the droids at work somewhere in the back. Anakin takes a measured breath, opening the device using the Force. It contains little more than a hologram recording and some other written data. Consciously refusing to think any farther than his next step, Anakin carries the holocron to one of the projectors and carefully lets it float into place. The hologram comes alive with a start, spreading its projection wide into the room. Anakin finds himself smack in the middle of the Council Chamber again, of all places, just the place he escaped from earlier.
He starts as he hears a voice behind him and quickly steps aside as he stares at the figure sitting there, his left knee where Anakinâs right hand has brushed the air seconds before.
âAnd how do you intend to break through the Countâs defenses?â Mace Windu inquires.
Anakin follows Winduâs gaze, his breath catching in his throat as he sees him.
Tall but slender in his simple Jedi tunic, he stands upright, a stature of modest pride. He looks the prototype of the ideal Jedi, Anakin notes, his features composed but stern. His eyes, not the familiar golden hum, but a greyish blue, innocent and cold.
âOur informants have told us enough to get to his lairâ Kenobi, Obi-Wan, replies, âI am sure I can overpower him if I get the chance to catch him off guard.â
âVery sure of himself, Master Kenobi isâ, Yoda chimes in from his seat, exchanging a look with Mace Windu as the young Jedi does not reply.
Anakin looks on as murmurs fill the room, members of the Council leaning into each other to discuss the matter. Obi-Wan stands very still, his arms folded in front of him, waiting for everyone to finish their debates. The blue in eyes turning to shades of grey as the sun outside the windows tilts behind the cityâs buildings in the distance. Itâs strange to see him there, composed and focused, not a hint of his sly humor showing in his face, no waves of heat ebbing and flowing off him; a Jedi general â and nothing more. And yet there he is, Kenobi. Somewhere in there, potentially right below the surface.
âYou will not have the advantage of surprise, Obi-Wanâ, a familiar voice states matter-of-factly. Anakins guts churn as he glances over to find his master Qui-Gon Jinn there, standing in second row as a non-member of the Council. âDooku is more than aware that an attack is coming, and soon.â Concern is audible in his words, softening the edge in his warning. Obi-Wan doesnât react, still facing the members of the Council.
âIt is all under wayâ he ventures, âand I sense that the Councilâs decision is already made.â
Qui-Gon opens his mouth again, but falls silent. He can sense it, too, and even Anakin can see the resolve in the Council membersâ faces.
âGo there, you willâ, Yoda confirms, âand find Count Dooku. Bring him here, you must, unscathed. Counting upon you, the Council is. The Force be with you.â
âThe Force be with youâ, the Council choruses, before getting to their feet.
Anakin looks back at Kenobi, now turning on his heels as the hologram slowly starts to deteriorate. He quickly closes the distance between them, determined he wouldnât lose the connection till the hologram blows out. As Obi-Wan Kenobi walks to the door, a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks. Itâs Qui-Gon, leaning close to him, entreaty in the lines on his face.
âBe careful, Obi-Wan. For the Darkness is closing in on us.â
Anakin watches, as Obi-Wan looks up at his old master for the first time. His stern face softens a bit as he acknowledges Qui-Gonâs concern; itâs the first hint of familiarity Anakin sees in his features, the slightest sign of emotion and recognition.
âThank you, Master Jinn, I will.â And with that, he is gone.
The pain on Qui-Gonâs face as Kenobi refuses to address him by his first name is the last thing Anakin sees clearly before the hologram dissolves, leaving him freezing, wrapped in darkness again.
